Another hard slapshot, another puck whizzing into the top of the net, and then the satisfying sound of the buzzer. Nothing helped better my sour mood than scoring goals. Even if it was just practice.

Just then Coach blew his whistle, stopping all activity on the ice. "Take a 15-minute break!"

Skating over to the bench, I took my helmet off, ruffling my sweat-damp hair. The bite of the cold air in the rink was refreshing after a hard-fought scrimmage for the past hour and a half.

"Damn Griffin, who pissed you off this early in the morning?" Dylan, our goalie, asked as he skated over from the net, propping his mask up on his forehead.

Honestly? I had a list of people I could rant off, but I wasn't about to air my dirty laundry in front of the entire team. Shit happened all the time, and I dealt with it. No one had time to crib about it.

"Is it because you didn't get your solo ice time in the morning?" one of our defensemen, Kris, asked as he joined us.

That was just one of many reasons. Since my car was in the shop, I was not only late to my board meeting yesterday, but also to practice today.

And all of it was because of Evelyn and her crappy driving skills.

A scowl formed on my face as I remembered the parking lot incident and then the judgmental looks I got from the old farts in the boardroom, all whom should have retired long back. They could barely walk with their canes but still wanted to pick a fight with me.

As if they had a chance to win against me with their stick-like bones and non-existent muscles. The only reason they got away with all the shit they gave me was because my dad and uncle respected them, and my mom taught me better than to rough up old people. But one of these days those vicious old bags were going to push me over the edge for sure.

"Who was the girl back at the house this morning? I thought we had a rule not to let the one-night stands stay the night," I said, changing the topic. The more I thought about the board meeting, the angrier I got. Right now, I needed a distraction, not a reminder of the shit going on in my life outside the rink.

"Dylan's girl. Josie... Jacky something," Ethan said. He was a defenseman and one of my many roommates along with Kris and Dylan. The entire team living under the same roof had some benefits, like quality bonding time that carried over onto the ice, but it wasn't without its drawbacks.

Like having to deal with the drama of their messy girlfriends or one-night stands.

"Jamie," Dylan quipped, "and she is not my girl."

I was pretty sure her name was Jennifer, but whatever. If he didn't care about her name, I didn't either. I placed my hands on my waist and narrowed my eyes at him.

"Yeah, her. Why was she in our kitchen in the morning ?"

We had clear house rules, and I didn't appreciate them being broken.

"Oh puh-lease," Dylan said, rolling his gray eyes. "She didn't go anywhere near your precious bathroom. You can calm down."

"You wouldn't be saying this if you had been the one witnessing the traumatizing scene," I accused.

Sophomore year one of the guys' one-night stand had spent the night over and used my bathroom in the morning when she couldn't find an empty one, I was scarred for life. Not because she used my bathroom but because she used my bathroom while on her period and didn't bother cleaning it properly after that.

Don't get me wrong. I'm very supportive and understanding of the pains the women have to go through but the bloody scene I had witnessed then had me feeling queasy for days. Hence the rule.

"It's never happened again, though. I think we can lift that rule. I heard the freshmen complaining the other day," Kris piped in.

Leave it to the team softie to get worried about freshmen complaining. As far as I was concerned, they could make changes after they'd lived in the house for at least a year and understood what it was really like. Those kids were still living in their "college is all party" delusion.

Huffing, I spun on my skates to face Kris. "Well, Jamie used that pink mug that your sister gifted you on Christmas."

Kris' head immediately snapped to face Dylan, who shifted to face Ethan.

"Snitch," Dylan muttered, showing me the finger.

I grinned wide, displaying all my teeth as Kris dashed after Dylan, bombarding him with questions. If there was one thing that he cared about more than anything, it was the tiny trinkets his younger sisters gave him.

"Why did you let her use it? Why didn't you stop her?" Kris asked.

"I couldn't. The mug is bright pink for fuckssake. She thought it was for girls," Dylan yelled as he skated circles around the rink with Kris on his heels.

I threw my head back and laughed when Coach pulled them both aside to chide them for their behavior. It was extremely entertaining.

Ethan cleared his throat beside me to gain my attention, stopping me mid-laugh. I raised a brow at him when he refused to speak.

"Spit it, Maverick. I know you have something to say."

He pressed the heel of his left skate down, crunching a little divot into the ice. "You had a board meeting yesterday. Is... is everything okay?"

And just like that, all the happiness I was feeling got sucked out of me. My body tensed up as the void inside me opened again, clawing at my guts.

"Fine," I bit out.

"Your face says that it was anything but fine."

He was right. It wasn't fine. Nothing in my life was fine.

Because I played hockey, the board members thought I wasn't serious about the family business. Nor did they think I had a chance to make a career out of it. To the board, hockey was a distraction that proved I didn't deserve a seat at the business table, and I knew they were just waiting for any opportunity to kick me off the board.

On the other hand, my sports agent thought I was spending too much time on the business to commit to hockey. He wasn't sure if I even wanted to go pro. He never said it outright but growing up I'd learned the art of reading between the lines.

Our conversation earlier this week told me enough about where he stood. If I didn't show him that I was serious about the sport, he would drop me for the next up-and-comer.

Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"I'll deal with it," I said, pursing my lips.

I had helped Ethan get an internship at my family's company last summer, so he knew more about the drama going on in my life than anyone else. He was a good friend and never spilled anything to the other guys on the team. But he did grill me at times to make sure everything was okay.

As much as I appreciated his concern for me, I liked to keep my shit to myself. It wasn't like whining about it to someone was going to be of any help.

Ethan opened his mouth to say something, but Coach blew the whistle, resuming practice. I met his eyes once more before skating off to take my position. I really didn't want to discuss things with anyone.

I just needed a distraction.

***

"Huddle up!" Coach yelled, blowing his whistle half an hour later.

On cue, everyone skated to the bench, taking their helmets off and grabbing towels and water bottles. "There's a meeting about the new project the university wants to run in an hour in the conference room. I want everyone to be there and on your best behavior."

He looked at each of us as if wanting to drill it into our brains with his eyes and only continued once he was sure everyone was on the same page. "I don't know much about it but it's important so do not act like buffoons in there. Now go shower! You stink."

"Yes, sir!" There was a chorus from everyone accompanied by military salutes that made Coach shake his head but the smile on his face was unmistakable.

The old man loved us.

One by one, we got off the ice and headed to the locker room which was immediately filled with mindless chatter.

"Wasn't the meeting tomorrow?" Ethan asked as he pulled his jersey off.

"It was," Kris confirmed. "Maybe it got preponed."

The guys nodded in understanding while I looked around cluelessly. It seemed like I was the only one who didn't receive a memo about this. "What am I missing?"

"The university is planning a promotional project for the team. I guess they want to attract more attention to the sports department," Kris replied.

"It's basically going to be some sort of photoshoot. I heard the volleyball team had one a year or so ago," Andre, one of our sophomore players, supplied.

"Think of it as a practice for all the brand contracts we'll be signing when we go pro," Dylan quipped from his spot in the center of the room in all his naked glory.

When I had first met him, I, like the rest of the team, was shell-shocked by his disregard for decency in front of the team. But now, no one would bat an eye even if he would dance naked while standing on the bench with his dick swinging in the air.

Which he had done on a couple of occasions after an important game. I tried to erase that memory from my brain every day.

He then turned around and spread his arms out on either side. "I'm going to be a superstar!" he announced before marching off to the showers.

"Well, at least someone's excited," I said, shrugging and the other guys snickered along. "But how come I didn't know about this?"

Suddenly, Kris and Ethan tensed up as they exchanged worried glances between them. "Uh...it was a few days ago when you had gone home and missed a few practices."

The relief I had been feeling since I stepped on the rink vanished immediately and an all-too-familiar heaviness settled on my chest.

"Right. Makes sense," I said, nodding briskly before heading to the showers too.

I needed to get a grip on myself.

Forty minutes later, I was the first one to step inside the conference room while the other guys lagged behind. There was a tall, burly guy setting up the projector with his laptop on the podium while Coach talked to a woman in front of the room.

With her back to me, I couldn't see her face but something about her seemed familiar. My eyes scanned her fit body, taking in her figure. She was wearing a baby blue shirt tucked into black jeans that accentuated her narrow waist and wide hips. Not to mention her long legs. Her reddish-brown hair was tied up in a messy bun, giving me the perfect view of her delicate neck.

Maybe working on this project wouldn't be half bad. I did need a distraction, after all.

Coach met my eyes from across the room and beckoned me in.

"Griffin. C'mon in," he said. "Where are the rest?"

"Still getting ready," I said, stepping inside.

Coach sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's a fucking meeting. Not a bloody fashion show," he cursed before turning to the woman again with a surprisingly gentle expression. "I'll be back with the rest."

She nodded and he swiftly walked out of the room, grumbling something under his breath about kids these days.

The woman still hadn't turned to face me, so I walked closer until I was standing only a few feet away.

"So, this is going to be professional, huh?" I said, trying to start small talk.

"I suppose," the woman said, and another hint of familiarity hit me. But it didn't occur to me who this was until she fully turned around. And boy, was I in for a surprise.

"Hello, Atlas," Rosy said, a wry smile on her pink lips.

Oh, shit.