Page 122 of A Little Secret
“Yeah, well, I asked Uncle Henry if, uh, if they’d be interested in trading with the Rockets for me, and after tonight’s win?” I catch his grin in my periphery. “Let’s just say I think it looks good.”
Fuck.
Unease floods my veins as I stare at my gloves hanging in my locker. “I heard.”
“And?” He shoves my shoulder, forcing my attention back to him. “Come on. I know we have our shit, but I thought you’d be happy for me.”
“Look.” I sigh. “You’re not the only one who, uh, who thought it might be a good idea to stay in Lockwood Heights.”
He frowns. “What are you saying?”
Fuck!
My hands tighten into fists at my sides as I fight to findthe right words, knowing there aren’t any. “I, uh, I wanted to tell you before the game, but you wouldn’t listen.”
Moving closer, he demands, “What did you do?”
“After I found out about the baby, I knew I had to do…something, so I…”
“What did you do, Griff?” he growls.
Sensing the shift in the air, the teammates start filing out of the locker room, grabbing their shit and getting the hell out of dodge. Part of me wishes I could do the same. The other part? Well, I’m pretty sure this conversation is long overdue.
Facing Ev, I force out, “I asked Uncle Henry if he’d be willing to trade for me, but I didn’t know you reached out to him, too, all right? I didn’t know until I’d already asked.”
“And you didn’t back off?” he challenges.
“Your sister is pregnant.”
“Raine’s entire family is here.”
My head falls forward. “I know.”
“Her nieces, her nephews, her parents, let alone her job.”
“I know,” I repeat, lifting my head and holding his gaze. “And if the circumstances were different, I would’ve kept my head down, but?—”
Teeth grinding, he slams the locker closed and leans against it, staring blankly in front of him. “Did he make a decision?”
“Uncle Henry?”
Everett gives me a jerky nod, but refuses to look at me.
“Not yet. Or at least, not that I know of,” I clarify. “You kicked ass on the ice tonight, though. And if you make the team, you know I’ll be happy for you, but…” I scrub my face from forehead to chin. “But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t sit by andnottry for the spot, too.”
“Of course, you couldn’t.” He scoffs. “When did you ask him?”
“As soon as I found out Finley’s pregnancy was high-risk.”
Turning to me, his expression falls, his frustration melting into concern. “What do you mean, high-risk?”
The memory of the doctor’s appointment floods to the surface and leaves me queasy, reminding me how helpless I really am. “The doctor wants to keep a close eye on her and the baby.”
“Are they okay?” he demands.
“So far, so good,” I answer vaguely. “But it’s still early, and I couldn’tnotdo something, man. I’m sorry, though. I feel like shit.”
He closes his eyes, his defeat matching my own. It swirls around us. Ruining the high from tonight’s win and leaving me hollow as I stare at my best friend.