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“WHAT’S UP WITH you?” Noah asks me.

We’re sitting in the hotel bar in Chicago after our game. We spent most of the game down by two goals and working our asses off to keep the score as just that. There were a few near-disastrous moments like when Savage for some ungodly reason skated away from his net just enough that he was out of his position and a goal was almost scored on him. Or when I turned over the puck three times all on my own. But we came back into the third and tallied three goals for the win. Thank goodness we won and it’s over.

“Nothing. How was Christmas?” I don’t want to admit that I’m worried. Elizabeth didn’t talk to me yesterday. She hasn’t responded to my texts today either.

Noah sighs, but there’s a bit of a grin on his face. “I tried to spend all my time with my nephew, but Mere kept dragging me into wedding planning. How much fucking planning does it need? I’m over it already, but she’s insisting I have an input on almost everything. We did decide to have it in the backyard of her house, which is now our house.”

“She miss me?” I grin.

He shakes his head, but begrudgingly answers, “Yeah. I’m supposed to convince you to come over Wednesday and to tell you that you can bring Lizzy if it means you’re coming over.”

“Is she making pasta?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there.” I check my phone again. Still nothing.

“Lizzy not talking to you?”

“Since yesterday,” I admit. “I don’t know why, though. Yesterday was Roger’s birthday, so maybe that’s why? I don’t know. She seemed fine when she left my house.”

“How are things with you two, other than that?”

“Good, I think. She loosens up more and more, but he still haunts her.”

“And what about you?” he asks.

“What about me?”

“Does she know about your ghosts? Have you told her you’re in love with her yet? Have you told Scotty yet?”

I stare at him for a moment before laughing. “I don’t have any ghosts, Rams. What makes you think I’m in love with her? I haven’t

told anyone I’m in love with her.”

“Don’t give me any bullshit, Marc. I know you better than you think, or better than you’d like me to. There’s shit no one knows about you. Meredith once asked me if I knew anything about your family and I told her no, because I don’t, and then I had to tell her to stop thinking about why I don’t know a damn thing about my best friend’s family. You have ghosts. I don’t need to know them. All I wanted to know is if Lizzy does.”

That’s when I feel bad. I know all of this stuff about Elizabeth, and she still knows so little about me. “She only knows a tiny bit.”

“How come?”

I shrug. “Not my favorite thing in the world to talk about.”

“And I’m sure talking about Roger is a walk in the park for her,” he fires back sarcastically.

My mouth opens to retort, but my phone rings in my pocket. The caller ID says it’s Sam, my agent. Fuck. It can’t be good if he’s calling me this late. I walk away without excusing myself and answer.

“What is it?”

“Francis wants to see you. He’s been annoying the hell out of me, Marc. You know I don’t call unless I need to. I’ve told him it’s out of the question, that your schedule is busy and you’re too focused on the season right now, but he’s not hearing it. I had to talk him out of flying down to see you on Christmas Day. He had bought the plane tickets, Marc. Have you talked to him? I think that’s what you’re going to have to do in order put an end to this.”

I lean against the wall and nearly slide to the floor. I can only imagine the disaster that would’ve been to have my father show up on Christmas when I was spending it with Elizabeth.

“Have you talked to him?” Sam repeats.

“No. I’ve been ignoring his calls.”

“Talk to him, Marc. He’s not listening to me. I’ve done all I can do.”

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