"Drink the damn shot, Diego." Ethan shoved a glass of clear, cheap vodka into Diego's hand.The post-game air in the locker room was thick enough to cut with a dull skate blade. Nobody was talking. The 2-1 loss to the Dallas Stallions felt like a funeral. Usually, I'd be the one barking about the next practice, but my eyes kept drifting to the door."Shotgun is mine," I barked as we hit the parking lot."Man, you know I get carsick in the back," Ethan groaned, dragging his gear bag toward my SUV."Five minutes," I snapped. "Kol sits up front."Kol gave me a small, grateful look as he climbed in. It hit me then—the way he looked in my oversized hoodie, shivering. He was a distraction. A beautiful, high-stakes distraction that had just cost us a game. But looking at him, the guilt felt distant."So, you're the one who finally tamed the captain," Ethan leaned between the seats as we pulled onto the street."Is that the rumor?" Kol laughed. The sound was bright, out of place against the h
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