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This afternoon is apparently just full of shit I do not need.

First my downstairs neighbor complaining that my ball bouncing woke up his overly chatty cockatoo, then my car having a flat, and now running into the person that should be put in the box for her constant unsportsmanlike conduct as well as her delay of game tactics.

“ Frossskkyyyy ,” Audrey happily sings during my exiting of the elevator. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Keeping my composure is an award-winning feat. “Please know that the feeling is mutual.”

“Aw,” her giddy bounce in place informs me she has no idea what I said wasn’t a compliment, “you are the charmiest.”

I thoughtlessly twitch a glare.

“So…” she tugs the white t-shirt I’m wearing underneath my open coat, “now that you’re single-”

“I am not single.”

“But-”

“You think your very fucked up stunt was enough to simply end me and your sister?”

“It should’ve been.”

“And yet it wasn’t.” My backing away not only creates space, it causes her to pout. “More importantly? Even if it were, I would never choose to be with you, Audrey. You are not my type.”

She proudly plops a hand on her hip and snips, “ I’m everyone’s type. ”

“And that is the problem.”

Bewilderment doesn’t hesitate to be seen in her expression.

“You mold and manipulate yourself to be whatever or whoever you convince yourself you need to be in order to please the world around you rather than just who you are; although, if I’m being completely honest, I do not believe even you know who you really are because you spend so much time being who you think everyone else wants you to be.”

Her nude painted lips fold together to suppress whatever emotion has been stirred.

“I have no interest in someone like that.” An innocent shrug bounces my frame. “I never have.” On a slight lean forward, I reiterate my point, “ And I never will. ”

Audrey’s mouth noticeably begins to tremble, yet she continues to remain silent.

“You need to respect that, my relationship with your sister, and maintain your space regarding non-work-related purposes or I’ll file a restraining order, which will make holidays together quite uncomfortable.”

“Frosky!” Margot calls from where she’s reviewing something on her tablet at the front desk. “In.” She cuts me a firm glance over her shoulder. “ Now. ”

I nod my understanding and maneuver away from the gawking woman for the GM’s office.

Unsure of whether to sit or stand when I stroll inside, I linger near the back of the room, beside the leather couches, like a soldier waiting for an order.

“ Sit ,” is hissed through gritted teeth prompting me to drop my ass on the nearest piece of furniture.

Huh.

This is probably how Bear feels, isn’t it?

“ There ,” she instructs with a sharply pointed finger to one of the seats directly on the other side of her desk.

Quickly crossing the room is followed by sitting in the chair.

Folding my hands in my lap.

Pressing my tongue to the inside of my cheek to maintain my silence as much as my composure.

I’ve been traded before.

I know what to expect.

I know what to say.

I even know the call I’m gonna get from my agent and when.

However, knowing all those things doesn’t make it any easier.

For an untracked amount of time, all Hennington does is stare.

Whether she’s reading my soul or casting a curse on me to last a thousand games is anyone’s guess.

Either way?

She is still one of the most attractive, most terrifying snipes I’ve ever crossed.

Coach abruptly bursts into the room on a loud muttering, “Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Our trade had issues and then it didn’t and then it did and now, we’re good again or at least I think we’re good again.” His hands roll around one another to emphasize the commotion. “We fucking should be. And this close to deadline I know you need us to be. So, I’m gonna say we are.” He stops his frame on the side of her desk and firmly folds his arms across his chest. “I’m gonna believe that we are.”

“I’m gonna believe that shit too because I cannot handle one more fucking headache, Blanc. For four days… four…fucking…days… I’ve been in more meetings with legal and public relations than when I took over the fucking team, on top of having to renegotiate that deal for some college kid that hasn’t even graduated yet and magically find cap space needed to for all three playoff runs to have their necessary trades.” She gives her long hair a frustrated ruffle. “One more problem with this team, and I’m just gonna set the barn on fire. Call it an accident.”

He struggles not to smirk. “ Arson, boss.”

“Not if they can’t prove it.”

“They can.”

“But we don’t know that they would. ”

Seeing the mirthful twinkle in her expression convinces me now is probably the best time to hear the news.

Rip off the bandage.

Thank them for my time in Dalvegan and ask when I can expect a ring from my new GM.

“Alright,” clearing my throat gathers both sets of eyes, “where exactly am I going?”

Hennington leans back in her seat and gives her Dalvegan green cropped suit jacket a tiny tug. “You tell me.”

“Pardon?”

“Where exactly is this shit with you and Hoss going?”

Confusion crinkles my forehead.

“Was it wheeling that went on for too long and you two needed an excuse to stop but couldn’t come up with one or are you secretly in love with her like Khurana who quit after she knocked out one of his teeth in the parking lot of the new LMC?”

“She knocked out one of his teeth?!”

“I was actually planning on firing him,” the owner continues onward as if I hadn’t interjected, “but him quitting saves me so much paperwork, so he’s got some of my gratiskies for that.”

“Why were you going to fire him?”

“Fraternization really isn’t an issue for me like it is the league.”

Hope threatens to light up my entire complexion.

“It’s the lying and the deceit and not being able to fucking trust the people we need to trust that’s the problem.”

Culpability shoves me back down into the chair.

“And Khurana hit the hat trick in his efforts to bag Hoss. He lied about you. To the boys. The dancers. To the press. To the department. He misspoke about directives in an attempt to keep Hoss with him rather than you. And then the three seconds to go gino to top it all off is the fact he conspired with Hoss’s twinskie to trap you both and expose what wasn’t their business to expose, ultimately embarrassing this team publicly and at the worst fucking moment costing me clout I could’ve used for trade negotiations.”

Why does it not surprise me that those two were working together to try to split us up?

“This organization couldn’t trust him,” she casually leans back in her chair and tosses one leg over the other, “and now I need to know if it can trust you .”

An audible gulp can be heard around the room.

“I need to know,” Hennington pauses to motion a pointed finger between her and Blanc, “ we need to fucking know if we can trust you.”

“You can,” I quietly proclaim to both.

“ Can we ?” Coach promptly counters with a skeptical head tilt. “Because the last two games were an embarrassment, Frosky.”

“I admit, I didn’t play my best-”

“I don’t a give shit that you didn’t play your best,” he effortlessly bites. “No one always plays their best. No one is always one hundred percent on top of their game, aye?” His body inches a little closer. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t bother showing up on the days that you aren’t.”

Befuddlement bounces my lower jaw in a wordless nature.

“You weren’t there for the boys when they needed you and it was felt. ”

Shock continues to run wild.

“They needed a leader in that locker room. They needed a leader out on the ice. They needed a leader to rally them after a loss – especially with Cap on leave – but because your ass was too caught up in your own bullshit you didn’t deliver. You didn’t do your job, ” he stabs his finger in my general direction, “as alternate captain. And that’s where the issue of trust comes into question.”

“And that’s why I need to know if I can trust that wheeling Hoss won’t be a problem.”

“That you can still be trusted to do what it is you need to do on the ice regardless of what’s going on off. ”

“That wheeling Hoss isn’t more important than doing your fucking duty.”

“I’m not just wheeling Hoss, Hennington,” leaves me in an aggressive tone. “I’m bloody in love with her.” Flying to the edge of my seat is a mindless action. “I’m beat my own head against the boards, skates over bucket, retire before I’m thirty, want to put a bloody ring on her finger right now in love with her.” My attention swings back and forth between them. “She isn’t just some random rocket that I don’t mind seeing when we’re in the same town. She is the rocket. She is my rocket. She is my Slayer and will be whether there’s a dragon on my crest or something else.” Additional fierceness fires through my tone. “And you’re right, Coach. I didn’t do my job. I let my personal shit spill into my professional one and wasn’t there for my mates like I should’ve been; however, one blunder… one. Bloody. Blunder. Doesn’t negate all that I’ve done or do for them or mean that you should trade me. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Trade you?” Hennington’s scoff shoots me back in my seat. “Why the fuck would I trade you?”

“The…Hoss and me…scandal?”

Her eye roll hurts my head which is impressive. “Do you how many pylons have scandals in this league?! You wheeling someone in a different department – who you’re probably gonna marry – barely warrants the phone call I got asking me to send in documentation that this was not an abuse of power situation unfolding.”

Bobbing of my jaw occurs once more.

“In fact…your commitment to not letting it be a focal point of this team, to going above and beyond to keep the media’s attention on what we’re doing right on the ice as much as off it, is not just admirable, it’s deeply fucking appreciated.”

More movement with no words.

“You are my stud, Frosky,” she states with passion and pride. “You are my top scorer. You have just crushed this franchise’s goals record. You’re in the top five of the league for points for the season. You’re typically a cap when you need to be, an assistant cap when Cap needs you to be, an enforcer when the defensive needs an extra body, and support whenever or wherever the boys need it most – on the ice or off. You have always given your best for this team… this family. It’s one of the things that makes you so fucking irreplaceable.”

New waves of awe keep me stunned silent.

“But we need to know that we can trust you to get your shit together.” A quirked eyebrow is shot in my direction. “That this shit with Hoss-”

“ My relationship. ”

“That your relationship ,” she sassily corrects, doing her best to not smirk, “isn’t going to be a problem for your focus and isn’t going to interfere with your ability to do your fucking job because if it is… then you’ll no longer be the stud I knew you were when I signed you. You’ll just be another fucking pigeon; I have to figure out how to get rid of.”

“Such a way with words, boss,” Coach chuckles.

“It won’t be.” Yet again, I lean forward to reiterate my firmness. “ FERDA. ”

“Speaking of pigeons…we’ve traded Payne,” announces the GM.

“For a college rookie?”

“Sort of,” Coach scrunches his face while bouncing his head back and forth. “Your tilly a couple weeks back showed me the power in a heavy d that also knows how to assist, so our playoff focus is shifting that direction across the board. We’re fairly tight here – when all skates are laced – but Stroll’s needs more help and Payne is very centered on only what he can do versus what he can do for the boys.”

“We don’t need that,” Hennington needlessly reminds. “ Remember. ” Her pointed digit stabs the empty desk space in front of her. “ We. Don’t. Need. That. ”

“Understood.”

Both nod their heads in appreciation convincing me to finally let my shoulders sag in relief.

Alright.

I’m not cut.

Or traded.

Or really in that much trouble.

Which is amazing.

And very unexpected.

However…what does that mean for Arden?

Where does that leave her?

“How about Hoss?” creeps out in a mousy tone. “Do you…still…need… her? ”

“Fuck yeah,” grunts the owner without reluctance. “You boys aren’t the only reason our viewership steadily increases. Plus, we’re launching our streaming network to guarantee all of our games are accessible to fans and I need someone to run that division of the organization.”

“Meaning she’ll be in corporate?”

“Which is why I need you both to sign the liability paperwork that all couples – especially newly engaged ones, which I get the feeling you will be – must sign together in legal’s office when she returns from medical leave.”

It’s impossible not to excitedly grin over more than one notion. “Medical leave?”

“Her ear surgery.” An unexpected, sweet smile slides onto her face. “I assume that’s why you were scratched for the next two games and excused from pracky?”

Meeting Blanc’s gaze allows him to present me with a wink.

“Tell Hoss, to rest up,” Hennington warmly commands. “The boys need you both now more than ever.”