After dinner and a swim in the hotel pool, I joined Easton, Kaden, and Steele in the bar. Kaden had ordered a huge plate of nachos and was digging into them with the gusto of a man who hadn’t eaten in days. As my grandfather was fond of saying, the guy must have a wooden leg or something. He never put on a pound. When Kaden wasn’t eating out, he was cooking. And, man, could that dude cook.

“We’re a pathetic bunch of losers. I know why I’m sitting around here with only you clowns for company and nursing a beer. I have a fiancée. But why are the three of you hanging here instead of sampling the nightlife this city has to offer with Cave and Ziggy?” Easton took a long pull from his beer, set the bottle on the table, and swung his gaze from Steele to Kaden to me and back.

Kaden shrugged but offered zero explanation. He popped a hunk of chips dripping with cheese into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Steele yawned and fixed his gaze on the flat-screen above his head showing hockey highlights. I had nothing to say either, so I kept my trap shut.

“We’re the Puck Brothers. What’s happened to us? At least Ziggy and Cave are carrying the torch. They’re out partying it up, and here we sit.”

“More like the Hard Luck Puck Brothers,” Kaden mumbled, and we all stared at him, waiting for more of an explanation. He didn’t elaborate.

“You still seeing your secret lover?” Steele asked. Kaden had been “dating” this mystery woman since the beginning of the season. No one knew anything about her, and as far as we could tell, neither did Kaden. We weren’t even sure she was a woman or a real person. Maybe she was married or something else?

Kaden shrugged. “Yeah, sometimes. Are you still plugged in to your phone?”

“I guess you could say that.” Steele was known to have his head buried in whatever piece of technology was available at the time, either his phone, tablet, or laptop. But he hid the screen every time any of us tried to sneak a peek. Easton swore he was addicted to porn or something. I suspected he had an internet girlfriend.

“What’s your story, Axe? Why aren’t you clubbing it up tonight?” Easton centered his attention on me. I had a feeling I was walking into a trap, but I wasn’t smart enough to change direction. I kept walking. My ears burned with embarrassment, which was as good as waving a red flag in the faces of three bulls.

“Not feeling it,” I said, which was basically true.

“I don’t think you’ve been feeling it for a while,” noted Steele.

“I’ve had to deal with a lot of shit.” I hoped my response would be adequate, but I wasn’t so lucky.

“This doesn’t have to do with Jock’s sister, does it?”

I had one hundred percent of their attention. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. We’re friends.”