Page 13 of Total Shutdown

Most of the guys are silent as we change, and some head for the showers or straight for a cooldown.

I’m pulling on my sneakers when Archer flops down on the bench next to me, Jack on my other side.

“I don’t need you to tell me that final goal wasn’t my mistake. Because it was. I took my eye off their winger and should’ve anticipated the assist.”

“Yeah, true,” Archer says.

I turn my head to face him, finishing up on my lace. “Don’t hold back with the honesty, Moore.”

He just smiles at me.

I take a look around and see most of the guys have now filtered out of the locker room. “Anyway, you got an update for me on the …” I trail off on adding more detail since Jack’s sitting on the other side.

“He hasn’t told him yet,” my center confirms, he must’ve been clued in on what went down last week with Shane’s girl.

I stand, hands propped on my hips. “And do you plan on taking my advice or letting the guy marry a cheater?”

Archer throws an exasperated hand out in front of him. “I’ll tell him. I’m just not that hot on the idea.”

I know my mood has everything to do with how I feel about this series and nothing to do with my goalie, but I can’t shake my irritation.

“You were hot on her when you took her home, though, weren’t you? Playing around means, sometimes, you have messes to clean up. This is undoubtedly one of those times.”

Archer grumbles, picking up his towel and heading for the locker room door. “Always so fucking judgy.”

When the door slams behind him, I turn to Jack.

“I don’t need any kind of smart-ass comment right now …” I blow out. “Especially not one about how I’m a grumpy old man.”

I love this kid, truly. But the incessant smile he wears makes me want to wipe it straight from his face. And he knows it.

Jack’s smile fades, replaced with an empathetic look. He knows I’m struggling right now, and he’s all too aware that I’m reaching the limitations of my patience. He opens his mouth to say something when the door swings open and our coach, Jon Morgan, strides in.

“Bryce, why aren’t you in the mixed zone, giving the scheduled interview?”

I look down at my training gear. “I was headed for the weights room and then for a shower. I need to cool off first.”

He pushes a frustrated hand through his hair. Jon is a former NHL star, and several seasons back, he was the captain for our rivals, the Seattle Scorpions. He’s also Jack’s stepdad.

“The interview is due to take place in five minutes. They want to run this one earlier, so you’ll have to cool down and shower later.”

He braces the locker room door open, asking me to follow him.

I drop my head between my shoulders. I’ve been captain of the Blades for a long while, and most of the responsibilities I enjoy, though talking with the media is not one of them.

“I’ll be right out.”

Five minutes later, I’m in front of a multitude of cameras and reporters, waiting for their usual quick-fire session.

I look around the room and pick up a bottle of BodyArmor, taking a pull when the first reporter speaks.

“Disappointing result for you tonight. Walk us through it and what went wrong.”

I smirk and pull at the back of my neck.

Isn’t it fucking obvious?Jesus, who pays these people to ask such moronic questions?

Linking my fingers, I rest them under my chin, shouldering a professional demeanor. “The team put in a great performance, and the game was hard-fought and as intense as we’ve come to expect when we travel to Colorado. I take responsibility for the final goal; I was a second behind the play and didn’t anticipate the forehand pass Reid made. I should’ve cut it out, but I didn’t.”