Page 280 of Playing the Pucking Game
“Maybe that’s because I’m right?” I point out. “You need to get your ass in line and focus on your job.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
I stare at my best friend. Together, we might be a bit of a nightmare, but it’s not a secret that he’s the worst. Maybe if it weren’t for him and his wild ways, I would have been brave enough to fight for Parker all those years ago.
Rett’s always had stars in his eyes despite having Clark in the background, trying to keep him tethered to the ground.
He lives for the fame, the girls, the parties.
He also lives for the drama.
I swear, if there aren’t at least five stories about him circling online, he gets the jitters that he’s going to be forgotten.
Fuck knows where it all comes from. He grew up in one of the most stable homes I know—if you ignore Clark travelling for work. His parents are solid. They’ve given him everything hecould possibly want. He’s got the career of his dreams, but for some reason, it’s just not enough.
“You know they’ll trade you if you do too much damage,” I point out.
I’m pretty sure the words are unnecessary, but I say them regardless. He needs to hear them. Maybe they’ll hit differently coming from my mouth.
He just shrugs, making it look like he doesn’t give a shit, which I know is far from the truth.
He loves Seattle, and he loves his team. He’s worked too fucking hard there not to. But at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how valuable a player is on the ice if their behavior off it is hurting the franchise.
Conversation turns to tomorrow night’s game before we dive into the Vipers’ season so far and their chances for the cup this year. Despite Rett being a Bandit, the Vipers are his team. We were wearing green and white before we even knew what it meant.
He follows our season just as closely as he does his own.
He’s never voiced it, but I know for a few seasons at least, he was bitter as fuck that I managed to find a place on the Vipers’ roster and he didn’t.
Maybe one day there will be a place for him. I know Coach respects him as a player. How could you not? He’s one of the best defensemen in the league. He just comes with a lot of baggage and drama, and Coach isn’t down for that. I should know; he’s ripped me a new one a few times when I’ve got carried away on a night out in the past.
“I guess you’re staying here tonight?” I ask when Rett begins yawning.
“That was my plan. Although I wasn’t expecting you to already have a house guest.”
“It’s Parker,” I say. “She’s always been as welcome here as you.”
He studies me, a small frown between his brows.
“I thought you hated each other.”
A laugh tumbles free. “Rett, I’ve never hated your sister.”
“Right. Well, good, because she’s awesome.”
I nod, terrified that if I open my mouth, I’ll say too much and give myself away.
Before I risk doing any more damage, Parker and I need to come up with a game plan. And before we can do that, I really need to apologize.
“I guess I’ll take your box room then,” he mutters, getting to his feet.
“Oh, hardly,” I scoff. There isn’t a single room in this place that can be compared to a box. “See you in the morning.”
“Yeah,” he agrees as he walks off.
As he stops to pick up the small carry-on he abandoned in my hallway when he first arrived, he looks back over his shoulder. “Thank you for looking out for her. You were right earlier. I’d have fucking killed you if you didn’t.”
I smile in acceptance, knowing that he’s probably going to kill me anyway.
