Page 110 of Dangle

I swiped the screen, the cold no longer bothering me since my whole body when swallowing before saying, “This is Trey.”

“Hello, Trey. This is Craig Sorenson, with the Minnesota Norsemen. I’m here with Doug Halvorsen.”

“Hey Trey. Exciting game today.”

I cleared my throat. “Hello. And thanks. The team is really clicking right now.”

They chuckled. “No need to be nervous, Trey. Or modest. You were a beast today. We’re freaking ecstatic when New York offered you in the trade. Do you have time to stop by the office to talk about your contract?”

Holy shit. “Um…yeah. I’m just leaving the barn. I can be to you guys in half an hour?”

“That works for us.”

The phone disconnected, and I immediately sent Slone a message.

Me

I’m going to be late. Something came up.

Slone

Yeah, I got wrapped up in something downstairs. There are meals prepped in the fridge.

Me

You’re too good to me.

Slone

Not possible. I love you. Drive safe.

Two hours later, I let myself into Slone’s loft at EDGE, and I dropped my keys in the bowl next to the door, smirking at it while I ran my fingers around the edge. If the any of the team told me their person got them a bowl for their keys because they’d lost them, I’d have laughed them out of the locker room, but thenmybowl showed up.

I hung my coat on the hooks in the entryway closet, then slipped off my shoes and placed them on the shoe rack in the closet.

“Slone?” I called out.

The sound bounced back at me in the cavernous room. If Slone were here, he would’ve heard me. The loft bedroom opened onto the rest of the apartment. The only divider was the metal banister that ran up the stairs and along the edge of the upper floor. I loved this space. Big, loud, and open. Just like me.

My stomach growled, and I sighed. Exhaustion reigned supreme at this point in the season; eating came second to sleeping. I turned to the fridge, connecting my phone to the sound system with a few taps on the screen, and then hitting shuffle on my Slone playlist.

Music blared through the loft. I wiggled to the beat as I started foraging for food. Shuffling some things around, I found a few containers in the back with tape on them. Hockey tape. Pulling them out one by one, I lost it.

He’d written notes on them. Hands off notes.

Don’t touch

I’m talking about you, Ewen

This is for Trey.

Trey.NOTEwen. Trey

Keep looking, Ewen

It’s still no, Ewen

Hands off unless you’re Trey