Page 39 of Tough Guy and the Show Off

Before I can delve too deeply into these thoughts, my phone buzzes on the nightstand next to me. I have to peel myself off of Trav to roll over and answer it, my brow creasing when I see the name on the screen. It’s Coach.

“Hello?”

“Beau. I know it’s early, but I need you to be here in an hour for a meeting.”

“A meeting?” I repeat dumbly while my brain tries to catch up.

“Yeah, at nine. See you then.” He ends the call before I can say anything else.

“Who was that?” Trav asks, his voice hoarse from sleep.

“Coach. I have to go in for a meeting.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

Trav sits up quickly, suddenly alert. “It can’t be bad. You’ve been on fire lately. Gotta be some contract or salary bullshit.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “Of course. I better get up.”

Trav puts his hand on my thigh before I can. “Are we good?”

Searching his eyes, I smile. “I’m good. Are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then we’re good.” I lean in and kiss him briefly. He chases the kiss for a second. “We can talk more later.”

“I’ll go in with you. I could use a workout.”

“Cool.”

Nearly an hour later, we’re showered, dressed, and walking into the arena. We go in separate directions, Trav to the gym and me to Coach’s office. I knock on the partially open door, and when I see my agent, Spencer, sitting in a leather chair and looking very pissed off, my heart sinks.

“What’s going on?”

Coach looks pale and a little sick to his stomach as he gestures for me to take the seat next to Spencer.

“Management made some decisions,” Coach says. “I fought them as best I could, but it was above my head.”

My heart sinks. “What decision?”

“You’re being traded to Chicago,” Spencer says, his voice tight. “Tomorrow.”

“What?” The news hits like I just got slammed into a wall. “Traded? But I’ve been playing so well, and me and Trav… we’re amazing together. What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing, Beau,” Coach says. “Management wanted a solid goalie and we were at our cap. We had to let someone strong go to make the numbers work.”

I blink rapidly as the reality sinks in. This is the last thing I thought would happen. Coach is talking, rattling off a bunch of words that aren’t landing with me at all. Spencer is talking too, but it’s all just noise to me.

I have to leave Boston. Leave Trav. This sucks.

“Beau? Beau.”

Spencer’s hand lands on my shoulder, pulling me out of my trance. I look at him but I barely see anything, my eyes blurry.

“It’s a good deal money wise. Chicago is a solid team too, and they’re very excited to have you.”