Page 57 of The Rebound Plan

Max steps out onto the terrace. He’s shirtless, wearing shorts and nothing else, his feet shoved into slides.

She swims to the side of the pool and hauls herself out of the water. “How was your nap?”

“Long, since you didn’t wake me up.”

“You said you were tired.” She sounds resigned, and a bitterness starts to churn in my chest.

Max watches as she wraps herself in a towel. “Everyone else is at the party?”

If I were in his shoes, I’d be drying her off myself. Every last inch getting careful attention.

He doesn’t appreciate his wife nearly enough.

“Yeah, they’ve been gone an hour and a half.”

“You didn’t want to go talk to the podcast kid?”

“Don’t start again. I told you it’s just an idea I’m working on.”

“One you kept from me.”

“Because you never support me in anything I do.” Her voice raises at the end, sounding frustrated.

“It’s not that I don’t support you. It’s that I think we need to work together and have shared goals. If you’d asked me, I’d have pointed out why a podcast isn’t a good fit for you. I support you in good ideas, hun. That’s just not one of them.”

I ball my fists at my side, waiting for her reply. He’s fucking playing her. Saying things that sound reasonable until you actually listen to the words themselves.

But silence is her only response.

“Hey, so…” He clears his throat. “We haven’t had a chance to talk about this, but there’s some exciting stuff happening with a new league.”

Again, he waits for a reply. And even in the moonlight, I can tell she’s not going to say anything. She’s gone very, very still.

“My agent thinks I should consider a move at the end of this season, if the timing works out. If I can jump to the Ice League, get announced as the first star player, it could be a real legacy statement.”

What the fuck?

We share an agent, and I haven’t heard fuck all about this—but this isn’t a contract year for me, and I’m not really at the level to have any kind of legacy beyond being a legend to the two hundred people in my hometown back in Scotland.

“It’s just…it would need to be the right deal. Something that would justify the reputational risk.”

“Is anyone else going to the new league?” Shannon asks.

Max snorts. “Kieran won’t let them even discuss it. He shut it down as soon as the news broke. Says he doesn’t want anyone to get burned, but you know that guy just sucks the commissioner’s cock.”

You fucking idiot, I think. Kieran fucking tried to stop the chatter for this exact fucking reason. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

Blood roars in my ears and I miss the next exchange, but whatever they said, Shannon isn’t happy. “I don’t think?—”

“Hear me out.”

“It has nothing to do with me,” she whispers. Not to keep quiet, because there’s nobody else here. It sounds defensive and shocked at the same time, and raises my alarm.

“Well, it has something to do with you, doesn’t it?” Max sounds…smarmy. “When was the last time that you talked to Dumas?”

The billionaire? Confused, I lean forward, trying not to miss anything.

“I haven’t, Max. I don’t. I wouldn’t.” She puts a heavy emphasis on the last word.

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