CHAPTER 22MASONI did it on purpose.The kiss with the staff, every shove, every bump during drills, every time I cut him off mid-stride — all of it was to see if Tyler Reyes would finally snap.And oh, he was close.The guy’s jaw was locked so tight I half-expected to hear a crack. His eyes kept shooting daggers at me, even when Coach was looking. Which, for Reyes, was saying something. He usually played it straight in front of authority.By the end of the last drill, he stalked off the ice without a word.Perfect.In the locker room, I dropped onto the bench, pulling my pads off. Avery flopped down beside me, smelling like sweat and bad cologne.“You’re a menace,” he said.I grinned. “Thanks.”“Not a compliment, Grant.” Avery tugged at his jersey. “You were poking the bear all afternoon.”“I was just playing,” I said innocently.“Yeah, and I’m just a saint,” he shot back. “Reyes looked like he was about to swing his stick at your head.”Damien, across the aisle, smirked. “Would’ve
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