Page 71 of Facing Off
SONYA
Keep this up and I’ll block you, Hughes.
I debate showing up at her apartment, but I’m afraid she’ll block me for real. So instead I’m left wandering my house like a mute, robe-wearing ghost. I don’t eat. I don’t sleep. I’m replaying everything that happened with her—the falling on stage, being let go by Madame Kozlova, her panic attack afterward—and I can’t rest.
Worry seizes my chest.
Not that I can tell anyone else about it. She made me promise to keep this all to myself, whichfuck, I don’t know if that was the right thing to do. In the last forty-eight hours, my hands have stayed glued to my phone. I keep opening my chat with Quinn or Kavi, thinking I should tell them what’s going on with Sonya. Would that feel like an unforgivable betrayal to her? Should I do it anyway? I don’t know.
Our pinky promise tortures me.
In an attempt to distract myself, I try keeping busy. Working through the night, I put together a special skills document on our rookie, Jung. It covers how he goes for the highest risk plays, which are fun for our fans to watch, but a nightmare defensively when they go wrong. Jung has to fix his shot quality and spatial awareness.
There have been whispers that the GM is going after him soon. And yeah, hockey trades happen all the time, but I know Jung has so much potential.
His determination and dark hair flash in my head, nowhere close to being buzzed, yet still reminding me of…
“Meow.”
Diana has climbed onto the desk so she can lick my hand. The one that’s clenched around a pen so tightly it’s gone pale.
Forcing my fingers loose, I stretch them out and gently pet my cat.
“Sorry, D. I’m good.” My voice is hoarse. I scratch under her chin. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll take a break soon.”
Actually…
I should be on the rink training Jung. But he’s off the grid, partying hard. That’s not unusual considering it’s our off-season, but the rock in my chest can’t help but double in size. He’s doing what a lot of young athletes do, spending money he doesn’t have, as if he’s guaranteed to be playing forever. But if the GM releases his contract…
Diana bites the edge of my nail.
“Yes, yes, D.” I boop her nose, choked laughter straining out. “Don’t worry, I’m not spiraling.”
I fully fucking am.
But it’ll be fine as long as I reach Jung soon to warn him about the rumors of his trade. Information only management should have, and that I’d be punished for spreading but am going to share with him anyway.
Then we can work together and figure out how to prove to everyone that the Wings need him.
My cat sneezes. I pet her and also sneeze. She purrs and nudges my shoulder with her head as if prompting me to stand up.
“You know what? You’re right.” Glancing around, I take in my surroundings. The curtains are drawn, lamps are dim, and the brightest light comes from my laptop screen.
“Great advice! I should get out of here for a while,” Isay, psyching myself up to get moving. “Because you can’t keep a treasure like me locked away. It’s criminal!”
Diana paw-slaps my chin as if I’m acting like a fool. I grin and keep cuddling her. Then I get up and start getting ready. Dinner. Drinks. Dancing. A few teammates have messaged me, inviting me out. It’s the kind of night I always used to go for, but thinking about it, nothing stirs inside me. No excitement, no anticipation.
Fuck, am I completely broken?
I don’t make it out the front door. Because, I can’t make myself go out. Not when there’s only one person I want to see. One person I’m worrying about nonstop.
Sonya ignores my call.
There’s no choice but to text her another kind of message, right? I laugh nervously to myself. She’s going to be so mad at me.
An hour later, Sonya barges into my kitchen. I’d left the front door open, and now I’m stirring a pot of homemade tomato sauce.
She’s out of breath. Wearing a dark rock band T-shirt, black denim jeans, and boots covered in studs. Her makeup is more intense than usual around her eyes, but that’s because it’s trying to hide the fatigued shadows underneath them.
