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“Good.”

“But I know you and Delaney aren't just roommates.”

I rub a hand over my jaw. “Yeah.”

“And I know her brother's on the other side of the building.”

“Also aware.”

Mercer looks toward the locker room door. “Beckett's a good player. Hell of a temper when somebody gets under his skin.”

“He's my best friend.”

“Which probably makes it worse.”

I don't answer.

Mercer finishes adjusting his wrist tape. “Look, I don't care who you're dating. Neither does anybody in here. But if you're serious about her, you better be ready to deal with whatever comes next.”

I meet his eyes. “I am.”

He nods. “Good.”

Then he stands.

“Because if you get yourself suspended tonight, I'm not playing center for you.”

“You're a winger.”

“Exactly. Don't make it my problem.”

I laugh.

He walks off.

And for the first time all afternoon, I feel a little less like I'm heading into a disaster.

Ifind Declan outside the visiting locker room about forty minutes before warmups.

He's wearing his Archers warm-up gear, his hair still damp from the shower he apparently took at the hotel.

When he spots me, he grins. “Well, look who it is.”

“Beckett.”

“Bishop.” He pulls me into a quick hug.

“Ready to get your ass kicked?”

“You've been saying that since we were twelve.”

“One of these days it'll happen.”

“Keep dreaming.” He laughs.

For a second, everything feels normal.

Then he steps back.