“I’m sorry.” I hung my head and kicked an errant sock with the toe of my shoe.

His green eyes narrowed to hard, icy-cold slits. “I’m hurt. I thought we’d gotten beyond that.”

“We haven’t gotten beyond anything,” I bristled. I wasn’t even sure we were friends. I didn’t know what we were.

“If that’s how you feel about me, then I guess that’s true.” He shrugged as if my opinion didn’t matter. His lack of interest stung more than I cared to admit.

He sat down in the room’s only chair, his large, muscular body dwarfing the plastic chair to the point where I hoped it held his weight. He lifted his troubled gaze to meet mine, and I was shamed. I’d assumed the worst of him, and I’d been wrong. I saw the fear reflected in his eyes. This was serious stuff.

“What’s going on with him?”

“Here’s the thing. He’s not really saying other than he can’t find her.”

“The secret girlfriend?”

His response was a tired nod. Without even saying goodbye, he left.

Axel didn’t even ask me out this time, not that I blamed him. He was worried, and so was I.

~~Axel~~

I left Geneva, feeling empty and alone. I hadn’t been in a bantering mood, yet I missed the bantering. I was truly worried about Kaden. Something was really off with him. If I hadn’t been so wrapped up in my own drama, I’d have seen his problems sooner. I sucked as a friend.

I had to get my shit together. We’d sucked today.

First of all, I had an obligation to my second-line mates. I pushed the troubling thoughts from my mind and went in search of Coop. He was in his small office next to Gorst’s, and his door was open. I knocked.

“Hey, Coach,” I said.

He motioned me in, surprised to see me since we’d already met less than an hour ago with Gorst. He pushed his monitor out of the way, picked up his cup of coffee, and took a sip. Sitting back in his chair, he regarded me with curiosity. “What’s up?”

I sat down in the chair on the other side of his desk. “I know there’s a lot of non-hockey stuff going on right now, especially in my life, but I wanted to talk to you about something hockey related.”

He nodded and waited for me to continue.

I took a deep breath and dived in. “As you’ve no doubt noticed, the second line is struggling somewhat.”

“I noticed,” he said wryly.

“We were talking and were wondering if you’d be willing to work with us after practice for another hour, help us gel more as a line.”

His dark brows furrowed as he considered my request. I was asking him to pile more work onto an already overloaded day and, as a result, spend less time with his family. I waited for his response, my fingers digging into my thighs and my stomach ready to do a nosedive if his answer was negative.