Page 94 of Save Your Breath

“Then listen to me, listen well, and let me help you.”

His eyes widened. “You? Help me?”

“I won’t fucking repeat myself.”

“No, no, of course not, I — yes, please. Help me.”

He turned to face me more fully then, eager puppy dog that he was, and I took a breath on a smirk before launching into allthe shit I saw in this practice alone that he needed to work on. I gave him homework — video to watch, players to research, drills to run, and then I told him to meet me here early tomorrow to go through some things together.

By the time I was done, I swore I could see him jotting notes in his mind, his head bobbing like one of those fucking toys that you might see sitting on the dashboard of an old car. But the kid was smiling again, and he had a little bit of hope back in his eyes.

I preferred that to the moping he was doing before.

“Hey,” he said when we finally stood and started making our way back to the locker room. “I heard your fiancée will be at this game.”

I nearly stumbled at the mention of Mia, but somehow kept my cool, shrugging one shoulder. The locker room was empty already, save for a couple guys in the ice baths or getting work done by our trainers.

“Of course, she will be,” I said with what I hoped was a convincing smile. “She’s gotta show support for her sexy ass husband-to-be.”

“And then you’re going to her first concert in New York?”

I swallowed. “Yep. Just enough time to go before we play Toronto the following night.”

“That’s going to be so wild, man. She sold out not one, not two, butthreenights at the Garden.” He whistled. “Impressive shit, that is.”

“She’s an impressive woman,” I agreed, ignoring the way my ribs squeezed my lungs in a vise grip.

I couldn’t wait to see her.

And yet, I knew it wouldn’t really beherI’d be seeing.

It would be the new Mia — the ice queen with all her highest, most solid walls up. She’d been like that ever since the proposal, and no amount of me begging could get her to tell me why.

We met up for photo ops. We had a “secret” engagement party with close friends and family that ended up all over the Internet. We held hands walking side by side in Los Angeles, pretending to talk and laugh only to be completely silent on the drive back to the airport.

But that was it.

We no longer hung out outside of the stunts. She didn’t ask me to stay, and she declined me when I tried to get her to.

It was all business now.

And it fucking killed me.

Especially as we sped closer to our expiration date on this whole charade.

Giana was thrilled with the sponsorships that had rolled in for me this season. We’d filmed so many commercials in August and September that I already knew I was going to be sick of my own face now that they were all airing.

A fast-food restaurant, a shoe brand, an energy electrolyte drink…

Add in that my jerseys continued to sell like hotcakes and we’d sold out the first ten games of the season, and Richard Bancroft was more than tickled pink with this whole arrangement.

On my end, the deal was done.

And we weren’t far behind when it came to Mia.

Soon, I knew Isabella would be ready to pull the plug. Garrett Orange had already been silenced for the most part. The album was a success. The tour was already shaping up to break records. I’d served my purpose.

How much longer would they need me?