Page 15 of Grizz

We stare at each other across the weight rack.

“You think you’re tough?”he asks finally.

“I think I’m necessary.”

He picks up heavier weights.“Let me ask you something, Turner.What happens when your fancy journalism background runs head-first into the reality of professional hockey?This isn’t some boardroom where you can ask pointed questions and watch people squirm.This is blood and bone and guys who’ve been fighting since they could walk.”

I move to the leg press machine.“I’ve been in plenty of rooms where powerful men thought they could intimidate me.It never worked out the way they hoped.”

“Hockey’s different.”

“Men are the same everywhere.”I start my leg presses, controlling my breathing despite the burn in my muscles.“They think they can bulldoze their way through problems until someone calls them on it.”

He’s moved to pull-ups now, his form perfect even as his frustration bleeds through each rep.“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know enough.”The weight feels heavier with each rep, but I push through.“I know you’re talented enough that everyone’s been willing to overlook your behavior.I know you’re good enough that you think the rules don’t apply to you.And I know you’re scared that one day, your talent won’t be enough to cover for your attitude.”

Grizz jolts and drops from the pull-up bar, landing with a thud that echoes through the gym.“I’m not scared of anything.”

“Everyone’s scared of something.”

“Yeah?What are you scared of?”

The question hits differently from what I expected.I finish my set and stand, wiping sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand.“I’m scared of watching someone throw away everything they’ve worked for because they’re too proud to accept help.”

For a moment, the only sound in the gym is the hum of the ventilation system and our labored breathing.

“You think that’s what I’m doing?”he asks.

“I think you’re so used to fighting everyone that you can’t tell the difference between an enemy and an ally.”

His watch beeps.“I gotta shower and get home to pack before the roadie.Workout’s over.”

And with that, Grizz beelines it toward the glass doors.Just before he exits, he looks back at me.“Turner, one other thing…”

“What’s that?”I say.

“Next time you want to work out, bring your own gear.The stuff you have on is for Vipers players only.”

Chapter 6

Grizz

TheWestchesterCountyAirport’sprivate terminal is straight out of a billionaire’s fever dream.I pull my Escalade into the VIP lot, noting the collection of luxury vehicles already parked in neat rows.It’s a smattering of Porsches, Maseratis, a couple of Bentleys all in pristine shape and flashy colors.

As I’m grabbing my luggage bag from the trunk, I hear the unmistakable roar of a Ferrari engine.Tanner’s yellow Testarossa slides into the spot next to mine.The man has zero subtlety, which is exactly why I like him.

“Nice of you to join us, princess,” I call out as he unfolds himself from the driver’s seat.“Thought maybe you got lost counting your endorsement checks.”

“Traffic was murder,” he says, pulling a Louis Vuitton duffel from the driver’s-side seat.“Had to take the scenic route.You know how it is coming from Tribeca.”

“Right.”

We walk toward the terminal entrance.The building is soaring glass and polished marble, with modern furniture and artwork.Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the tarmac where our chartered 757 sits shining in the afternoon sun.

Inside, our teammates are scattered across leather sectionals.There’s a full bar staffed by an actual bartender, not some airport vendor.Flat-screens show highlights from around the league.Hell, there’s even a massage chair that Deacon’s already claimed.

“Gotta hand it to Langley,” Tanner says, surveying the scene.“Man knows how to spend money.”