Ocean’s POVLosing always left a taste in my mouth I couldn’t wash out. It wasn’t just frustration, it was sharper and heavier than that.After a loss, it always seemed like something had slipped through my fingers when I should have held on to it tighter.The locker room buzzed with low voices, the sound of gear being tossed around, lockers slamming shut, and water running somewhere in the background. Nobody was loud.Instead, the atmosphere was filled with that dull, collective irritation that came with a bad game.I sat on the bench with my elbows resting on my knees while I stared at the floor.I hadn’t played like myself.My passes were off, my timing was worse and every time I tried to focus, my mind dragged me somewhere back to Astrid. Biting the inside of my cheek, I scrubbed a hand down my face.“Get it together,” I muttered under my breath.It was too late now.The game was done and we lost.And somehow, that wasn’t even the worst part of my night.I reached down, untying
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