Page 18 of Grizz

I smirk, slinging my bag over my shoulder.“I thought professionalism was showing up to practice sober.”

He grins, shameless.“You’re confusing professionalism with moderation.Entirely different skill set.”

We pile onto the team bus that will transport us to the hotel.The guys are joking, long legs stretched out after the flight.Everyone’s in good spirits because a winning streak early in the season can turn a locker room into the most fun place in the world.Downtown Dallas flashes by through tinted windows… glass towers, wide streets, cowboy hats mixed with Teslas and boutique hotels.

When we pull up to the hotel, a throng of Vipers fans are already there, pressed against metal barricades.Mostly kids and adults wearing our jerseys, holding Sharpies and iPhones.A few hold up signs.

One reads MARRY ME GRIZZ; another says GRIZZ MODE ALWAYS ON.

I smile politely and sign a few quick signatures.I’ve learned that giving them thirty seconds now saves me thirty minutes of guilt later.Besides, if there’s a group of people who are never on my fight list, it’s the fans.They’re why I do what I do.

Inside, the air-conditioning is heavenly, and our hotel is beyond posh.Langley only books five-stars because he thinks luxury translates to loyalty, and it’s not a bad bet.

I grab my room key and head for the elevators before Tanner can start recruiting me for his evening plans.

“Hey, wait up!”he calls, jogging to catch me.“You’re my roommate, remember?”

“Unfortunately.”

He laughs as we step inside the elevator.“You gonna nap or unpack?”

“I’m gonna not talk to you.”

Tanner presses the button for our floor.“Fair.But heads-up… I might have to use the mirror in the room for grooming purposes later.”

“Define grooming.”

“You’ll know when you hear the music.”

The doors slide open on the fifteenth floor and we walk down the hall to our room.I toss my bag onto the nearest sofa and collapse onto my bed.I always take the one closest to the window.The blackout curtains swallow the sun whole and I’m half-asleep before I even take off my shoes.

Thirty minutes later, I wake to the sound of Tanner whistling and the smell of expensive cologne.He’s wearing jeans and a tight white tee, his hair styled with too much pomade.

“Where are you going?”I mumble.

He’s scrolling his phone but looks up at me with a wicked grin.“Remember those girls from last season we met when we were here?Two locals, both gorgeous, both dying to meet the boys from New York when we were back.They said they’ve got tonight off from bartending and want to hit that new steakhouse I told you about.”

I roll my eyes.“I’m confident you want to hit something more than just a steakhouse.”

Tanner looks neither ashamed nor proud.“Exactly.I told them I’d bring a teammate.Double date.”

In days past, I would have been all over that, but for some reason, it’s not appealing to me tonight.“Pass.”

He freezes, theatrically wounded.“Pass?Bro, they’reDallas tens.You can’t pass on a Dallas ten.It’s bad karma.”

I consider his words, do a quick internal reflection.“Yeah… not in the mood.”

“You’re a menace to single professional athletes everywhere.”He tosses a shirt at me.“You need to loosen up.Zero press, zero stress—just red meat and women who don’t give a shit that you take too many penalties.”

“Take them both,” I say, rolling over.

He laughs.“Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m serious.Two girls, one Tanner.Sounds like your ideal wet dream come to life.”

He taps his chin and looks up to the ceiling as he considers.Gaze back to me, he asks, “You sure?”

“Positive.”