Page 92 of Clear Shot
And that pisses me off because I love this team.
I have friends, a family of sorts, people I can count on.
Thanks to Hana, I’m going to lose it all.
Serves me right for allowing myself to fall for a pretty face.
Dumbass.
I motion to the bartender to bring me another.
“Dude, it’s Aiden Barbeau!” I hear the words and steel myself.
I hoped I wouldn’t run into fans here at the beach on a weekday, but no such luck.
I don’t look up, merely shoot back another shot.
“Drinking on a game day—right on!” The guy sits next to me with a big grin.
“I’d like to be alone,” I say quietly. “Going through some family stuff.”
“Oh, shit. You okay? I’m sorry, man. Family stuff is the worst. My sister just found out she has breast cancer so the whole family has been up in arms. Going to chemo with her, a meal train…” He continues to babble but I just tune him out.
“You still gonna play tonight?” he asks when I don’t engage.
“Just leave it alone,” I mutter.
“But the team needs you!”
Yeah, the team I’m probably not going to be on much longer.
“You want another?” The bartender asks me.
I nod.
“Dude, you’re not going to be worth shit on the ice if you keep it up,” the fan says, a little censure creeping into his voice.
“And you’re not my fucking coach,” I snap, starting to lose my patience.
“Whoa, dude, chillax. I’m just a concerned fan.”
“I don’t need your concern.”
“Then maybe your coach needs to know where you spend your time before a game.” He pulls out his phone, and I mentally groan.
I really don’t need this shit.
Not today.
“Put it away,” I growl.
“Ha! Now you’re worried.” He points the phone in my direction, and I know this isn’t going to end well.
“I’m asking nicely,” I say, finally looking at him.
“Guess who’s drinking at the Elbo Room at 12:30 on a game day?” The guy is talking into the phone.
God fucking dammit.
