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I spin around, expecting it to be Jon, but instead, I’m greeted with a mass of dirty-blond hair and gray eyes.

The corner of Tyler’s lips tips up as he looks around at the rest of the room and then back at me. “Welcome to New York, Morgan.”

CHAPTER TWO

KENDRA

“Ithink we need to talk about that header. Seriously though, girl, you rose like a freaking salmon.”

My lip throbs as I bend down and unlace my cleats.

I face my goalie and closest friend, Jenna, and point to my lip. “And in the process, I took one for the team.”

“Yeah, well, you might’ve taken an elbow to the face, but you kept the ball out of the net and my run of clean sheets going, so drinks are on me tonight. Even if it is just Diet Cokes.”

Standing from the bench, I slip off one cleat and then the other. Swiping them underneath with my foot, I don’t respond to Jenna or even look at her. I’m not ready for the inquisition about to come my way when I tell her I don’t want to go out.

“Okay, I’ll upgrade it to a Mountain Dew,” she continues, pulling off her jersey and hanging it on one of the hooks lined up above our heads.

I remain quiet, undressing as quickly as possible so I can make it to the showers and then back home to my apartment across town.

When I wrap my towel around me and pull out a shampoobottle from my wash bag, I make to leave right as a manicured hand lands on my upper arm.

“You are coming out tonight, right?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. It was a nil to nil draw. There isn’t much to celebrate, and I’m tired.” I pull the topknot out of my hair, and several blonde strands come away with it, more than the usual amount. “I didn’t sleep well last night, so I was planning on going home early.”

Jenna’s eyes fall to the black tie in my hand, covered in blonde. “We could do pizza night at your place instead?”

“Yeah, maybe,” I say, trying to leave again.

“He didn’t show up last night, did he?”

I close my eyes and swallow thickly, my mind traveling to Tyler’s text, still unanswered on my phone. It was our fourth anniversary, and he promised me an uninterrupted night together. Just us. Turned out, he couldn’t even make it past my front door.

“He messaged me to say he needed to report for preseason really early and he couldn’t come over.” I leave out the picture I saw posted of him at Lloyd’s Bar later that evening. “He’s got a lot going on, and so do I with the soccer season in full swing. I’ll see him later in the week.”

Jenna makes a humming sound like she’s about as convinced of that as I am. I’ve been center back for the New York Storm for an entire season since leaving Seattle with Tyler, and in that time, I can count on one hand the number of date nights we’ve had together.

Sure, I knew dating an NHL player would be tough; the season is grueling, and there’s a lot of traveling involved. But no more than what my dad did when he moved to England for his pro soccer career. Since we stayed in the US to be around Mom’s family, he was backward and forward across continents. He always had time for my mom, always made the effort to put her, my brother, and me first.

“You cooked for him and everything though, Kend.” Jenna’svoice sounds sad as she releases my arm, and I let it fall to my side.

The anger, which was overpowered by adrenaline during the game, returns when I remember saving what I could of dinner and throwing the unsalvageable food into the trash. I earn sixty thousand dollars a year, unlike my boyfriend, who makes well over ten times my salary. Probably way more than that, but since he doesn’t tell me, I go with the minimum. The National Women’s Soccer League and NHL are very different worlds—not that I train, travel, or play any less hard.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I reply, twisting my long hair around my wrist, my towel still wrapped around me as the chill of the locker room hits my cooling body. “I don’t have the capacity to get upset with him again.”

“You can do way better, babe. Truly, you can.”

I flick the lid on my shampoo bottle and bring it to my nose, the honeycomb scent comforting to me and a reminder of my dad’s beehive back home in Ohio. “You’re still in your honeymoon phase with Lee. We’ve been together for four years.”

Jenna’s brows pull together. “And how long have your parents been married exactly?” She waves a hand in front of her. “Forget mine. My dad was a dick. But yours—they have been together since forever, right? I don’t think time has anything to do with it.”

I have zero comeback or justification to her logic, but I’m saved from the conversation when our center forward and captain, Hollie Browne, approaches me with a bright smile. “Nice work out there, Hart. I thought they’d snatch the three points right at the death, but you showed us exactly why we’d signed you.” She takes in my height—I’m not exactly small at five feet eight. “Genuinely, I’ve never seen anyone as good in the air. All their right back had to do was make any kind of connection with the ball, and we would’ve been done.” She offers me another smile and spins on her heel, making her way back to the other side of the room.

Jenna turns back to me. “I hope you gave him a good piece of your mind.”

“I haven’t replied yet,” I say, biting down on my bottom lip. “I have nothing to say to him right now.”