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“Hello? Ro. Where have you been? Are you with Flock?”

“No. I’m in the square, alone. But I need my bestie and a therapy slushie. Maybe a cinnamon roll. I’m feeling a little sad.”

Eve’s sharp intake of breath sounded down the phone. “You heard the news then?”

What news? I had my brain so wrapped up in Brody and skating that I hadn’t listened to the radio this morning.

“Flock’s contract.”

Eve’s words made my stomach churn, and a burn crept up my body. “What about his contract?”

“It’s all over the cable news.”

I swallowed away a solid lump. “Eve. What happened?”

“His team dropped him, and from what people are saying, he’s unfit to play at a professional level at all. Nobody’s gonna take him on now. They say he’s too vulnerable to injury.”

My breath caught in my throat. A canceled contract? Unfit to play? Vulnerable? I shook my head. This was crazy. Brody would’ve told me, wouldn’t he? “When did you hear this?”

“The news broke about an hour ago while I was at the diner. We all watched it on the flatscreen.”

I pulled in a breath before letting it out slowly. An hour ago Brody and I were at the derby track. I would have been storming out of the locker room, and he would’ve been… in the parkinglot. With his journalist friend. A friend who covered ice hockey. They’d hugged, and now, when I pictured it, he’d looked so sad. Did he know then? Why hadn’t he said anything?

I closed my eyes.

Because I hadn’t given him a chance. I’d gone all gung-ho on him. Accused him of all sorts. I let out a groan.

“Are you okay, Ro?”

I wasn’t sure yet. I’d potentially made the biggest mistake of my life.

“Eve, can I stay at yours tonight? I think I need some advice.”

26

BRODY

Iclosed my eyes, tipping back my head. The summer sun washed over my face, and the smell of coffee drifted over from the other side of the street. A murmur of traffic and chatter filled my ears. Just Tuft Swallow on a Sunday morning. Everyone was going about their business as if my life hadn’t fallen apart overnight.

I’d had the worst sleep yet on Maggie Swan’s couch. The call with my agent had left me numb. Drained like a flat battery. He’d apologized for the radio silence. Blamed work. Other clients. But then he’d delivered the body blow. The words I’d dreaded to hear. Denver Snow Storm wouldn’t renew my contract. He hadn’t even pretended to have other opportunities lined up for me. Other offers. I was dead in the water, and we both knew it.

I let out a breath, hissing into the air like a boiling kettle. When I’d run out of steam, the bench sank a little beside me, and I turned to see Mrs. Woodcock’s rheumy blue eyes staring back at me. She’d dressed in one of her awful turquoise windbreakers and wore a cap printed with the slogan “Tit Peepers Do It Better.”

The corners of her eyes crinkled. “Not with your friend today?”

I shifted on the bench. “Coop? No, he’s at work.”

She tutted. “Not Cooper, young man. Rowena.”

At the mention of her name, a searing burn hit my chest. I’d not seen Ro since she’d skated away from me yesterday. She’d left my helmet outside the den door at some point. I’d almost tripped over it as I came out of my room this morning. “No. She’s busy.”

Mrs. Woodcock cleared her throat, her jowls wobbling with the effort. “Well, from what I hear, you could do with a friend right now.”

Could I ever. Aside from my agent, I hadn’t spoken to anyone. Not team management, not Cooper, not Alex, not my parents, and not the one person I desperately wanted to talk to. Instead, I’d turned off my phone and lay awake all night, wondering what Ro was doing above me. Was she sleeping? Dreaming? Or was she tossing and turning like I was?

I’d fought the urge to creep up the stairs and knock on her door. Fall into her arms. Savor her warmth. But I feared the welcome I’d get.

“Do you want to talk about it? I know I’m not ‘hip and groovy’ like your fancy friends.”