Page 122 of Fighting Chance

“It’s your money.”

“Ourmoney.”

She rolls her eyes. “Stubborn hockey player.”

“Stubborn artist,” Grayson counters.

Bella glances over at Layla and something passes between them, a silent conversation. Grayson and I share those looks often, too. It happens when you’ve known someone for as long as we have.

While Emmy continues to eat the sausages, I catch Matteo frowning down at the phone in Ellington’s hand, his thumbs flying across the screen.

“Speaking of family, how are things with Evie?” I start.

Ellington lifts his phone as if in answer. “Not good.”

A muscle ticks in Valenti’s cheek. “What happened now?”

The sudden darkness in his tone has our end of the table falling silent. Bella, Cindy, and Layla pop their heads up, and even Emmy stops chewing.

Ellington looks back down at his phone, shaking his head. “This stupid prick she’s dating,” he growls in frustration, running his hands through his hair and pulling. “Apparently she picked him up from work and he smelled like his colleague’s perfume.”

Layla frowns. “Could the bottle maybe have spilled?”

Oh sweet innocent Layla.

Ellington snorts. “Like how his phone accidentally deleted the text thread between them?”

“Oh.”

Ellington shakes his head in frustration. “I swear to god, it’s like a switch flipped in his head and now he’s suddenly a boyfriend that treats his partner like utter garbage.”

“I hope you mean soon-to-be ex-boyfriend,” Bella mutters under her breath.

“Here’s fucking hoping,” Valenti growls, his fists clenching around his utensils in a white-knuckle grip.

Cindy leans forward, peering past O’Connor. “Is that why she stopped coming home? Over Christmas, right?”

Ellington sighs. “I have no idea anymore. I think my mom knows, because around that same time she got all weird and cagey.”

Valenti’s gaze snaps to his best friend. “You didn’t tell me this.”

“I honestly didn’t put it together until recently.”

The heaviness of his shoulders has me moving the conversation off the topic; he needs a distraction. “What’s up with the whispers in the league? Are there trades happening?”

Ellington sends me a grateful smile before putting his phone face down on the table. Valenti, on the other hand, can’t seem to tear his gaze away from it.

Grayson’s chin dips. “Lukas is retiring. This is his last season.”

O’Connor whistles. “Fuck, feels like he’s been around since the beginning.”

“Because he has been,” I snort. “He’s a dinosaur in the NHL.”

Layla elbows me and whisper-hisses, “He’s right there.”

“He can’t hear me.”

“She’s right, he hasn’t publicly announced it yet so let’s just keep it between us.”