~~Easton~~

We were one month into the regular season. I was playing well on the third line, might even be moved up to second. I’d scored a couple NHL goals and had multiple assists. Everything was going my way, yet I couldn’t shake this funk I was in.

Kaden, Steele, and I had leased a condo overlooking Lake Union within easy walking distance of the practice facility. It came fully furnished, and we didn’t add any personal touches to the place. Steele was a neat freak and always picking up our crap, while Kaden and I cared less about a tidy home. We did have a housekeeper come in once a week to do the deep cleaning. All in all, we were three bachelors living the good life.

After practice, I didn’t leave the ice when the rest of my teammates did. I stayed and skated along the boards at a leisurely pace, hands behind my back. I concentrated on the feel of my blades sliding along the slick surface, listened to the swish-swish sound, and tried to find the zone, which had eluded me recently. Skating had always been a form of meditation for me, but lately not so much. I stopped and stared upward at the Sockeyes logo on the wall in the practice facility.

Being here had been my goal, but now that I’d reached the top of the pile, I was vaguely disappointed. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I shake the feeling something was missing?

With a sigh, I skated off the ice. By the time I entered the locker room, everyone had left. I changed into street clothes but didn’t want to go home just yet.

I wandered around the team lounge, watched some game tape, and felt totally lost and alone. I slumped down in a chair and hugged my coffee cup, staring out the bank of windows at the Space Needle nearby.

I’d been out a little too late last night, drunk too much, and now I was paying for it. I’d been sluggish in practice, and the coaches had noticed. Cousin Coop had ridden my ass, constantly bitching at me. He was hardest on me, probably because he expected more from me and to prove he wasn’t showing favoritism.

The door opened, but I didn’t look up. I wasn’t in the mood for company. Hopefully, if I ignored whoever it was, they’d go away.

“You don’t seem overly happy for a rookie who’s taking the NHL by storm.” Ice sat down next to me at a table in the team lounge.

I glanced up at my captain, ready to deny I was anything but ecstatic, only no words came. Ice didn’t tolerate bullshit, and by the look on his face, any protest on my part would be just that. He saw right through me. The room was empty. I doubted anyone else would be crazy enough to be at the practice facility after the practice we’d had. They’d scattered to nurse their wounds or drink them into oblivion.