“How ya doing?” I said innocently, not understanding his irritation. He must be taking his throbbing head out on me.

“Considering I’m hungover and my roommate kept me up all night with noisy, headboard-slamming sex, I guess I’m doing as expected.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t fucking sound sorry.”

“Aren’t we cranky this morning?”

“And aren’t we Miss Sally Sunshine, you fucker.”

Now where did that come from? I’d never seen steady-as-a-rock Steele in such a foul mood. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“You.” He pointed a finger at me, his face filled with disgust. “You’ve got it made, you asshole. You’ve got a great career ahead of you, and now you have a great woman by your side. You’re a fucking lucky asshole.”

“Uh, thanks.” I navigated around a potential landmine, not knowing what’d set off my buddy, but I had the distinct impression his mood had very little to do with me personally.

He scowled at me as if my perceived good fortune was somehow detrimental to his mental health. I’d never seen him like this.

“What the fuck is going on with you, Steele? Your life seems damn good to me. You’re a professional hockey player. How many of us get to do that? How many of the guys we’ve played with from the time we could barely skate have made it this far? So we lost out in the playoffs. We’ll be back next year. We had a string of bad shit happen. Nothing you or I could control. We did the best we could.”

He looked away from me, his attention elsewhere. When he turned back to me, most of the anger had drained from him to be replaced by worry.

“What if I get cut?” he said.

Now I understood, or at least understood part of it.

“You’re our future star defenseman. No team is going to be stupid enough to get rid of you when you’ve shown such promise.”

He shrugged, unconvinced according to the look on his face. “I guess.”

Something else was wrong with him, but I didn’t want to delve into a potentially messy discussion when we’d need to leave in a few minutes for the SHAC.

He and I would have plenty of time to further discuss this later if Steele chose to unload. Knowing him, he’d batten down the hatches and go back to being his usual rigid, quiet, unreadable self.

~~Geneva~~

I waited outside Roy’s office, wringing my hands and tapping my toes, the picture of nervousness. My outward calm was one of my strengths, but that calmness in this current storm eluded me. Before I could stop myself, I caught a fingernail between my teeth and nibbled on it.

Irritated at my display of weakness and refusing to fall back on an old habit, I shoved my hands under my thighs and sat on them. I hadn’t bitten my fingernails since before I’d worn a bra. I wasn’t going to start now.

I was strong. I was resilient. I was a fighter. Whatever happened, I would make the best of any situation. I slapped myself mentally. Listen to me. I was already planning on being let go. I had to be more positive. I was good at my job, reliable and steady. I never balked no matter how shitty the task. I did it professionally and cheerfully.