Page 86 of Scoring Zone
“Dude’s not a doctor,” King responds, and I can hear the exasperation in his voice.
“Gray, we need you to cheer our captain up and give him some loving,” Lucky chimes in.
“I’m fine,” Austin growls. “I’m going somewhere else to video call you.” His face appears on my phone, and I accept the call.
“Sunshine,” he murmurs, and pets my cheek on the phone.
“You aren’t fine,” I blurt.
“If you let me tell the truth, I can make it better for both of us.” His face twists in frustration.
“It’s too late. Dumas is petty and won’t let it go. At the very least, they’ll prosecute me for lying to the police and charge you to make it worth their while. And they’ll dissect our relationship. We can’t let the team lie for us.” We’ve been over this, but the guilt is killing him, and it shows in his playing.
He got the nickname Ace for being a sharpshooter. He hasn’t had a goal or an assist in three games.
“We should come out now with a statement about us,” he says defiantly.
“I love you.” His face lights up at my words. “I love how much you love me…but…don’t do anything without running it by Finn, who will probably talk to Mr. Dimon.”
“You’re always so logical,” he grumbles with a grin. “You don’t want the world to assume my playing sucks because I miss my boyfriend,” he says sarcastically.
My face goes all soft and mushy in the camera. “I like it when you call me that. But don’t make me the most hated man in New York City. Enforcer fans will blame me for everything that goes wrong. Sports gossip sites already say the team—aka me—is withholding you have a serious ankle injury.”
“Fine. It’s completely fabricated, and we aren’t living in fear of Dumas or the fans forever. I’ll retire before I let that happen. This year if I have to.”
There’s a gasp behind Austin, and he turns, but I can’t see around him.
“Benzy,” Austin calls. “Shit.” He’s jogging, and all I see is the ceiling bouncing up and down.
“Ace said the R word,” Benz moans. From the little I can see, they’re in the locker room.
Austin remembers I’m on video and holds the phone so I can see Benz collapse on the bench as the team turns sullen with understanding.
Liska strides to the rarely used whiteboard. “This vord?” He writes “retire” in black marker and Benz nods. “Because of the lawsuit?” He stares at me and Ace like he’s looking into our souls. “I vill take care of it,” he announces, and leaves the locker room.
Lucky makes a call with his phone to his ear. “Hey, Trevor, quick question. Is your fiancé in the mob?” We hear a roar of laughter on the line. Lucky shrugs and hangs up. “Had to ask.”
We talk as he goes to dinner with the team until his phone dies mid-sentence. I get up and wander into the kitchen to find something for myself to eat.
My phone lights up with a text from Finn.
Finn: I heard a rumor Ace said retire
Finn: Is he serious?
I’m unsurprised Finn already knows. He hears ev-er-y-thing.
Me: We can’t let him retire
Finn: Don’t tell me the obvious, sugar britches. Give me solutions
Me: I got nothing
Finn: *middle finger emoji*
This is not the time to view myself as an anchor around his neck. Neither of us will be happy apart, and I promised not to cut him loose. It’s exhausting fighting the lawsuit and my mental chaos. I owe it to him to get my shit together.
My phone rings and it’s him. Austin is the best medicine I have.
