Yeah, I had millions, but there was a difference between having money and being rich.

Those who hired live-in personal chefs topped the list.

Fortunately, Heather loved her job immensely.

I went to call her when I was jolted from behind, and my phone fell to the floor.

“What the hell?”

“You coming out tonight?” It was Joey, our assistant captain and one of the best guys I’d ever met. Hell, his whole family was.

“I’ll be there.”

“Good. Good. It’ll be good to see you let loose a little bit.”

“I let loose frequently.”

“Sipping one drink when you show up at my house isn’t letting loose.”

He had a point. But the guy was smart.

“Gabby coming out with us?”

“Nah. She said she’d get the girls together, watch the kids so we could enjoy it.”

He scanned the locker room, eyes stalling on Bromann. “Team is different this year. I mean, we always have new guys. They come and go, but…”

“Max is gone.”

“Yeah. For such a loud asshole, he was the glue.”

I couldn’t argue. Max was the life of the party. The guy was always ready to pump someone up and cheer them on. Until his most recent injury, I’d never seen the guy not smiling. Life moved on though, and we had to adjust without him. Hell, based on his most recent text, he was loving his life out in California with his new girlfriend, Kimmy.

We’d still see him. Just because he wasn’t on the team didn’t mean he wasn’t still part of the team.

“Bromann will click soon.”

“He better.” Joey sighed, ran a hand through his already showered dark hair, and shrugged. “We’ll figure it out later. Who knows, maybe all we need is a night to act like idiots together to bond.”

I’d prefer a round of golf or a boating day. My ass was too old for clubs with the constant flashing lights and ear-piercing music.

“Maybe,” I agreed. Because hell, we’d already tried everything else.

I picked up my phone and headed for the showers. Heather was known to have a crisis a day, and god love her for it, but she could wait.

My team, on the other hand, could not.

“This round’s on me!”

Arlo had to lean in and shout over the massive table Alix had somehow secured in the VIP section of Piazza. An Italian-style dance club sat atop one of the casinos on the Strip, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been here. Yeah, when I’d first been traded, the Strip was cool to visit. Back then, I’d had Ava with me, though, and at twenty-five, we were growing out of the constant clubbing scene. We’d been talking about having kids, starting a family once I got settled in Vegas and with the team.

Then she left. I couldn’t blame her for it, not now, not when I took the time to look back, but God.

I fucking missed her.

I grabbed one of the shots one of our newer players, Calix Weekes, bought. Recently turned twenty-one and excited as hell to finally be able to buy his team a round, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face all night long. Bromann threw his arm over his shoulders, and they took a shot together.