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Her expression faltered slightly, and she tilted her head. “You good?”

Crap. She saw right through me. But I just waved the concern away as I slid onto a barstool. “I’m good. Tired, but not tired enough to go to sleep yet, apparently.”

“Well, this is as good a place as any to hang out, right?” She winked, unaware of what that did to my nerve endings, and then flagged down a server so I could order a drink.

Truthfully, I did feel better hanging out with my teammates than I did sitting up in my room and wondering about my dad, but I still felt like crap. I didn’t contribute much to the conversation, instead just sipping on my cocktail while I listened to my far more energized teammates talking. They were speculating about some trade rumors, and also discussing some of the prospects who were likely going to be in-demand during the upcoming draft. Pittsburgh had quite a few first and second round picks for this year, and if our GM was savvy, she could snag us some incredible talent.

“If the teams ahead of us don’t pick Stella Persson,” Sims said, “Chloe should snatch her up. She’s one of the best goalies in any of the major junior leagues right now.”

“She is,” Lila acknowledged, “but both Montreal and Omaha are picking ahead of us, and their biggest weaknesses are goaltending. I can’t imagine them passing her over.”

“I don’t know,” Val said. “They need goaltending solutions right now, not three or four years down the road when Persson is ready to play at this level.”

“Hey, stranger things have happened.” Sims shrugged. “The men’s league has goalies who’ve gone straight from being drafted onto the roster.”

“True,” Val said. “And she’s good, don’t get me wrong. But is she good enough to pick that early in the draft? Because there are someincredibledefenders up for grabs this season.”

As much as I didn’t have the energy to contribute, it was fun listening to my teammates debate the merits of various players. They all had some interesting insights, especially about prospects who played in their positions. Like when Laws thought Danielle Curtiss was a promising defender, but both Lila and Sims shook their heads.

“She’s good,” Lila said, “but she’s going to needyearsof development before she’s ready at this level.”

Sims nodded in agreement. “She’s a hundred percent defense. She’s not going to make it here if she isn’t solid offensively, too.”

“Unless she’s paired with a solid offensive defender,” Laws pointed out. “I mean, the two of you have a good arrangement.” She gestured at Sims and Lila. “Not that Sims can’t play offense, but your strength is in being a really strong defender. So then Hams can go on ahead and help the offense.”

Sims gave another nod. “The problem with Curtiss is that in those moments when sheneedsto be on the offense, she falls apart. It’s nothing that can’t be fixed with more development, and obviously she’s great defensively if she’s made it as far as she has, but that development is going to take time.”

“I hope we do draft her,” Lila said. “Even if she ends up in the minors for a few years, she’ll get opportunities to train with us.” She half-shrugged. “That can do wonders for a player’s development.”

At that, Sims smiled fondly. “Putting in some hours on the ice with you would do any young defender alotof good.”

Lila actually blushed, and suddenly my drink wasn’t nearly cold enough.

“Well,” she said with a quiet laugh, “maybe I’ll get a chance to work with her. Guess we’ll see who Chloe picks in the draft.”

The conversation continued like that for a while, and eventually, people started peeling away to call it a night. When I got up to leave, I was surprised that Lila did, too. We paid our tabs, then headed for the elevator. We exchanged smiles as we waited, and neither of us said anything on the way up.

When we stepped out, though, Lila stopped. “Hey, before you go…”

I halted too, turning to her. “Hmm?”

She studied me. “You sure you’re okay tonight?”

No.“I’m good.”Not even close.

Her skepticism should’ve made me angry. Should’ve had me lashing out defensively because what right did she have to grill me?

But the truth was… I was tired. Not just from the game and the flight and everything else.

So, what the hell. I took a deep breath and admitted, “My dad called earlier.”

Lila grimaced. “What did he say?”

“That’s the thing—I don’t know.” I rubbed the back of my neck as all this fatigue settled in hard on my shoulders. “I didn’t answer. And I haven’t listened to his voicemail.”

“From what you’ve told me, I don’t blame you.”

I appreciated that, but I didn’t feel much better. “I’m going to regret it. I know I am.”