Page 108 of Trick Shot

I take a long sip of beer I don’t even taste. The sound of laughter burns my ears. The music in the background might as well be white noise. Everyone’s talking about training, trades, pre-season plans—and I hear none of it.

I thought she was ready to know who Ghost is.

Maybe I should’ve waited more.

Maybe I should’ve told her right away.

Or taken it slower. Built a bridge.

Instead, I dropped her into the fire and fucked her in the flames.

The morning sun is brutal. Heat clings to my skin, heavy and wet like guilt.

I’m sitting on the edge of a lounge chair with a bowl of sliced mango in one hand, trying not to look like I’m seconds from throwing up.

Dom’s next to me, legs propped up, sunglasses on, chewing through watermelon.

“I’m telling you,” he says, “it’s going to be brutal once we get back.”

I grunt in agreement, stabbing another piece of mango.

“I want guys puking on the ice,” Dom adds, dead serious. “If they’re not seeing stars by week two, they’re benched.”

He says it with a smirk, but he means it. And usually, I’d be laughing right there with him, talking shit, planning drills, making bets.

But all I can think about is his sister and the way she said “get out” without raising her voice.

“You okay, man?” Dom asks, his voice cutting through my thoughts.

“Huh?” I say around the mango in my mouth.

Dom turns his head slightly toward me.

“You’re being weird.” It’s supposed to be an observation, but it sounds like an interrogation.

“Just really damn hot,” I lie.

“Hydrate, dumbass.” He shrugs, pops another piece of melon into his mouth, and tilts his head back. “Or go for a swim.”

“Yeah, I’ll get some water.” I push up from the chair, mutter something about water, and head for the outdoor bar near the back deck.

A few of the guys are there—half-drunk, half-sunburned, fully annoying. I grab a bottle from the ice bucket and crack the cap, but before I take a sip, I spot Tanner leaning against the post, sunglasses on, sipping a Budweiser.

“Tanner,” I say. “You seen Melody?”

“Still harboring hope, huh?” He lifts his brows behind the glasses and smirks.

“Her brother’s looking for her.” I lie and give him a flat look.

His smirk falters. He clears his throat, looking away fast.

“Uh... yeah, actually. Think she was heading toward the trail. The one through the trees.”

My grip on the bottle tightens.

She went to the cove.

“Thanks.” I drop the bottle on the bar and walk.