“It wasn’t a circus,” she scoffed, voice steady. “It did exactly what we wanted.”
“It made me a fucking joke.”
“No,” she whispered. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she seethed, “Your teammates made that choice.”
“Because you gave them something to work with.”
“Because they’re hockey players,” she shot back, sharper now. “They chirp. That’s what they do. That’s not on me.”
“It is when it walks in with me,” I bit.
Silence snapped tight between us.
The hallway stretched out in front of us, quiet, carpeted, insulated from everything that had just happened like it didn’t exist.
Our footsteps fell into rhythm without discussion.
“We have a job to do,” she sighed after a few steps. “You and me. Together.”
I didn’t respond.
“We’ll figure it out,” she continued, glancing over at me. “As long as you stop blaming me for shit I did not do.”
I let out a short, sour breath. “That’s convenient.”
“It’s accurate,” she corrected.
I stopped walking. She took two more steps before she realized it, turning back toward me with a look that was equal parts irritation and something else she wasn’t letting show.
“You’re a distraction,” I yelled at her.
Not to the team.To me.I didn’t say that part.
Her eyes held mine, steady, unflinching. “Then that’s your problem,” she growled.
Something in my chest pulled tighter.
She turned again, reaching our door before I did, keycard sliding in with a soft click before she pushed it open and stepped inside.
The room was dim, neutral, impersonal in the way all hotel rooms were. One bed. King.
I dropped my bag by the chair, rolling my shoulders once, tension sitting heavy and unmoving across my back.
Behind me, I heard her set her things down more carefully.
“We leave early,” she remarked, moving past me towardthe window, fingers brushing the curtain aside just enough to look out over the city below.
New York spread out in lights and motion, alive in a way that had nothing to do with us.
“I’ve never been here,” she added, almost to herself.
I glanced over. She was still looking out, her reflection faint in the glass, softer than the version of her that stood in front of cameras and locker rooms and chaos.
“I kind of wish we didn’t have to leave first thing,” she admitted quietly.
Not a complaint.
Just… a thought.