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And when I turned back around to check on Jack, he’d left.

Me

Honestly, I don’t know. But maybe a faulty ceiling isn’t all that bad after all.

CHAPTER TWELVE

JACK

Watching the replay of some of my games will go down as the most painful experience of my life. Like the time in college when I missed a wide-open goal to secure a win. Damn, that’s one memory that will haunt me for life.

Tonight’s game though? Well, I could watch that beauty every day, and it still wouldn’t be enough. I didn’t score, but somehow, my role on the ice felt more dominant than ever before. Tonight, I felt less like a rookie in headlights and more like I was meant to be in the NHL. Especially when I set Matt up for a one-timer to clinch the game zero to three.

A game that, based on our performances last season, we’d never expected to win.

So, it makes perfect sense for our goalie to be sitting next to me at the bar, wearing a wide grin. He killed it tonight.

My grin? Well, that’s as big as Archer’s, but for more reasons than just hockey. She might not be on the same page as me when it comes to birthdays, but she is wondering why the fuck we never spoke more in college.

And for me, that feels like another big win.

There’s just one thing tonight that’s bothering me …

“What’s the score with Sawyer?” I cock my head in his direction.

Our captain is sitting alone on the other side of the crescent-shaped bar. Most of the guys are gathered around tables, but Archer and I are watching NHL footage on the overhead screens. I’ve invited Sawyer to join us on a couple of occasions, but each time, he’s declined.

As he continues to stare up at the overhead TVs, the wince on Archer’s face is unmistakable. “How much do you know about our captain?”

I shrug and twist my pint glass around on the beer mat. “Aside from the very little he’s told me over the past three weeks … only what you and the general public has access to.”

“Hmm …” Archer responds, picking up his beer and taking a large pull. “So, you know about what happened six years ago then?”

When I don’t immediately respond, Archer assumes correctly—I have zero idea.

“Yeah, I guess you would’ve been like, what, sixteen when it broke?” He pauses and casts a quick glance Sawyer’s way. “Look, it’s not really my place to say since it’s his business, but as some of it is common knowledge I’ll tell you this. There’s a reason you don’t see Sawyer with women. When it comes to the fairer sex, he and I are polar opposites.”

As I lean back in my high stool, I think about the truth in that statement.

“Sawyer was married—and when I saymarried, I mean, they were head over heels in love and gave you all the feels from just watching them. They were, at one point, considered to be the power couple of the NHL. Sophie wasn’t a famous model or anything, but she was the reason Sawyer had made it to where he was—or at least that’s what he’s always said. Let’s just say, he hadn’t had a great early life until he met his wife.”

“Wait, was Sophie a redhead?” I ask, vaguely recalling something reported about her.

“Yeah, and I don’t think Sawyer will mind me sayinghot as fucktoo.” Archer clears his throat. “So, run the clock forward a couple of years, and they had their first baby, Ezra. There was a time when Sawyer was a very different person from the guy he is today. It all changed when Sophie suddenly passed away from a pulmonary embolism. One night, he had kissed her and his four-year-old boy good night to go on an away series, and the next, he got a call from family to tell him that when he got home, it would only be Ezra waiting for him.”

My eyes flick to Sawyer just as he pulls his phone out and begins swiping across the screen. “Oh fuck.”

Archer nods his head slowly. “Yeah. Sawyer has never recovered. He’s the greatest dad to Ezra, but all the guys on the team know what to expect when we travel to Colorado.”

“It happened when he was here, didn’t it?” I ask, already knowing the answer. The pieces click into place rapidly. “Do you think I should say something to him?”

Archer pulls his attention from the highlights and looks at me. “You’re a good guy, Jack. I think the team needed you for more than just your ability on the ice. In the three weeks I’ve been playing with you, I can already see you as a captain in the future. You’re like the glue that sticks a team together. But on this occasion, I’d advise you to let Sawyer be in his head. He’ll come through it, as he always does.”

Archer claps a hand on my shoulder, and I pick up my glass, taking a sip and giving Sawyer one more look.

“So, what’s your story?” I ask, changing course.

Laughter erupts from the tables behind us, and I watch as Sawyer empties the rest of his glass and slides off the stool. He nods once at us and the rest of the team and disappears out of the bar. When I get back to our shared hotel room, I expect to find him already asleep.