“Yep. Yep. They’re playing the Seattle Thunder, who seem to be the fucking team to beat this year. I kinda miss the old days when Johnston played, you know? He would’ve shut Forster down hard.”

I couldn’t help myself. “But Forster, Cartion, and Crusky?”

He sighed, resigning himself. “I know.” He settled into his seat. “Thunder’s stacked this year. They don’t usually have so many heavy hitters. Chasers are hurting. They need to plan better for their team, but we can get there. I know it. Give us another year, and Thunder wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“That’s your opinion.” I waited.

He registered the dig and looked over, his eyes wide. “You must be a Thunder fan?”

“Kinda.”

“Not Coyotes? We flew from Minneapolis.”

“Not this year.”

He groaned. “God, you’re one of those.”

I knew where he was going, but I wanted him to say it. I wanted him to squirm as he said it.

I blinked my eyes, so wide and pure. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right.” He snorted, facing forward again as the flight attendant came with the garbage bag. “You’re a fair-weather fan. Those are the worst.” He side-eyed me, smirking. “No offense.”

I snorted right back, clipping my seatbelt in place. The descent would still take a while, but I wasn’t going anywhere. “I’ve always been a Thunder fan, and I’ve always been a Forster fan. Don’t underestimate the Reese, man. He’s going to be the GOAT one day.”

He groaned, and a couple of the other passengers glanced over. He waved at me. “Sorry. She just told me Forster’s going to be the GOAT one day.”

A guy a few rows back yelled, “Reese Forster? You kidding? The guy can’t rebound for the life of him. He’s gotta depend on his teammates.”

Yeah. Oh-kay, my seatbelt was off, and I twisted around. I rested an arm against the back of my seat so I could properly see my target. It was a bigger guy who, no surprise, had a Chasers ball cap on.

“Excuse me? What are you talking about that he can’t rebound? Who cares? He’s not on the inside. Wanna know what he does excel at?”

“Everything else?” said a woman from the other aisle. She and her friend started laughing together.

“And he doesn’t look too bad, either,” her friend added as they collapsed in laughter.

I had to pause, fighting back a grin, before finishing, “He led in scoring five out of the last seven games. He’s led in steals most always. His balls skills are close to Stephen Halorry, another legend in the league, and his floater balls can come in damned handy—and yes, they can win an entire game. Thank you.”

I was not done.