“He didn’t choke, he blew out his knee.”

  “I’m trying to make you feel better,” I reminded him, with a hard squeeze of his shoulder.

  “Yeah, well you suck at it. No wonder the prick is looking for someone else to stroke his ego,” Fox said. “Ego-stroking takes a firm grip, and finesse, and knowing just when to tease.”

  I barked a laugh even as I flushed. Because the fact that he made the joke meant I was succeeding in cheering him up. Also, because listening to him say it while we were both in our sopping wet underwear in my shower struck me as particularly funny.

  “Your tits are huge,” he said, as he nuzzled into my cleavage. “Seriously, they’re like big soft pillows. Keep laughing like that. It’s really comfy.”

  I was laughing even harder when I gave his head a small shove off my chest. Because while he was making me laugh, he was also making me warm and tingly deep inside. I reached past him to turn off the water, letting it go cold for a moment before turning it off completely. I could still feel the warmth of his cheek pressed into my flesh, his shoulder and arm against my belly as I’d held him.

  After a long moment, I stepped out and grabbed the towel I’d set out for him, wrapping it around myself and going to the linen closet to fetch another one for him. “I guess I have a few things to figure out now. I’m not sorry Ryan’s moving out. Don’t get me wrong.”

  “But you’re gonna miss the extra paycheck?” Fox finished for me, using his hands to brush as much of the water from his body as he could.

  He didn’t appear to notice me holding the towel out for him as he slid his fingers through his hair to squeeze out more water. I cleared my throat and looked away from the sight of his waterlogged boxers clinging to, uh …man parts. It was…distracting.

  “Oh, thanks,” he muttered, taking the towel and covering himself. “If you want, I can stay here and pay you rent. Then we’d be roomies and we wouldn’t need to spend half our nights on the phone dissecting Mr. Robot.”

  I laughed. “You’re not serious.”

  “Why not?” Fox asked as he leaned against the doorframe with his hand holding the towel together at his waist. Shit, did he even know what he looked like? All lean muscle, and tattoos. Wet and…sexy. Wait, what? This was Fox. He was my friend.

  My grip on my own towel tightened. “Because I do not need my apartment overrun by hockey groupies. I’ll…figure something out.”

  He rolled his eyes. “It wouldn’t be that bad. Besides, I do understand what discretion means. And obviously the whole ‘sugar daddy’ thing doucheface said was complete bullshit. I don’t mind the couch for tonight or whatever. I can’t keep crashing on my other friends’ couches—not…now…”

  I had opened my mouth to object, but I realized why he didn’t want to crash with those friends anymore before I actually said anything. He could take their hospitality when they were teammates, but now it would be tainted with pity rather than camaraderie.

  “And I wouldn’t mind a real bed now and then that didn’t require awkward meals with my parents. With Gage at college, I’m the only one left there. I can’t take that much attention,” he explained, his gaze pleading.

  I wanted to say yes. He was going through a rough patch right now, and I wanted to help. And I couldn’t deny how useful it would be to have his help paying the bills. But I was afraid. We were already too close. And if he was under my roof, I worried I’d slip up, and he’d see that hidden kernel of hope that he’d one day look at me as more than just his friend. Hope was such a stupid thing.

  What’s more, with both of us standing in the bathroom in nothing more than wet underwear and bath towels, I was too aware of that line in our friendship that I knew was better left uncrossed. Jokes that were fine when I had a boyfriend or when he had a girlfriend were a gray area now. But with the forced intimacy of living together…there might be two bedrooms, but there was still only one bathroom. I wasn’t sure what that might do to our friendship, and I didn’t think I was ready to find out.

  Not to mention, Fox was hell on women. I knew him well. There would be half-naked women around here in no time. I was so close to getting my degree, and if the internship continued on as well as it was going, I might even have a job when I was done.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” I said cautiously. “It’s just… I need to…stay focused on things right now. That was my big mistake with getting involved with Ryan. He was too much of a distraction.” I headed out of the bathroom and he followed on my heels.

  “What makes you think I’d be a distraction?” Fox asked as he held up a hand to keep me from laughing. He gestured to his chest. “You know what? Don’t bother answering that. You’re right. I’m hot. But just so you know, it’s an open offer. If you have a hard time at all and change your mind…” He winked.

  “Get your clothes on,” I scolded him, even as I chuckled.

  “Consider my night on the couch tonight as an audition,” he called over his shoulder as I departed for my bedroom. “I won’t even sleep naked… Unless, you want me to. You know what? I suggest having naked roommate night. C’mon. It’ll be fun.”

  “You are incorrigible,” I called out.

  “I don’t even know what that means.”

  After I closed my bedroom door, I leaned back against it, willing my heart to stop pounding and trying to convince myself the rush of heat in my lower belly was nothing more than a biological response.

  No, having him living with me would definitely be more of a distraction than I could handle at the moment. Our friendship was one of the few things in my life that I could count on. While my jobs and school were going well, they weren’t exactly stress-free. Hanging out with Fox was a great way for me to relax, and I desperately needed that. No reason to go and make something complicated that didn’t need to be.

  4

  Fox

  It wasn’t like I was really sneaking into my own house, I was merely trying to avoid seeing anyone. Particularly my grandfather. But sure enough, as I rounded the corner into the study, Gramps was the first one I saw. I stopped abruptly, hoping the old man hadn’t seen me, but it was too late for that.

  “Fox?”

  I sighed. “Hey, Gramps.”

  “Well, fancy seeing you here. You couldn’t sleep in your bed last night?”

  I let that one slide. The old man could fish as much as he wanted.

  “I had some things to take care of.” Yeah, like having a fitful night of dreams of my best friend. Those soft lips. And God, her breasts.

  The memory alone of my face pressed into her tits, water raining down on us, was enough to give me wet dreams for a month. I tried to remind myself that she was Sasha, my best friend. I needed to get her tits off my mind. Normally, I was able to forget that Sasha was a girl. We were best friends and confidants as teenagers, even as children. At one point I was convinced that she had cooties, but after that phase we became thick as thieves.

  “Well, Gramps, I’d love to chat, but I have some things—”

  “Just wait a second, Fox. How did it go yesterday?”

  Yesterday was the last thing I wanted to talk about. “You know how these things go, Gramps. I wasn’t who they were looking for this time.”

  My grandfather shook his head, “They don’t seem to understand that you’re a Coulter. Don’t name and legacy mean anything? They are fools. Like I’ve been telling you for years, you need to change sports. You’re big enough…play football. We can get you a private coach to work with you. I have pull, and believe I could get you some tryouts.”

  I took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “Gramps, I don’t want to change sports. I love hockey, it’s been my whole life. Hockey to me is like football to you.”

  Gramps sat back in his chair. “Well, listen to me. From the sounds of it, you won’t make the cut again. How long do you think you have before they stop calling you up in the first place?”

  That was the last thing I needed to hear. “Gramps, I’m going to head to my room.”

  “Don’t sulk. That’s conduct unbecoming a Coulter. If you’ll let me help you, I can have a coach here tomorrow.”

  “Shit—dammit, Gramps! Just give it a rest. You would think you’d have learned your lesson by now after Bryce and Dax. Even Echo. But you still can’t help it. You just push, push, push your agenda.” I took a deep breath. “This is why I stayed with Sasha last night. Just so I could avoid this conversation.”

  Immediately, I wished I could take back those words. They would just give my grandfather another issue to press. It would make the old man happy to see me and Sasha together. After all, Gramps and Sasha’s grandfather had played ball together.

  Gramps lit up. “I always did like that girl. You’d be doing well if you’d snag her up before someone else does. She’s pretty enough to be any pro athlete’s wife. With her connections, she won’t stay off the market for long.”

  Why did I bother coming home again?

  I shook my head. “Please, I’m begging you. Just stop.”

  “I don’t know why the lot of you walk around here being as ungrateful as you are. I am the patriarch of the family. The glue that holds us together. It's my name that you bear. You don’t want to listen to me about your career or your prospects, fine. You don’t want to be with Sasha, fine. It’s probably better anyway, given how her father blew his entire fortune. That girl needs a meal ticket. And we don’t want another golden-haired goddess with her claws sunk into this family.”

  “Gramps, that’s enough.”

  “Fox is right, Dad. Give it a rest.”

  I turned to find my father in the doorway. His color was better than usual. But still, he looked tired. A shadow wound its way around my spin, as the warmth settled into my body. He looked improved, but was he actually better? How long would he remain better, if he kept pushing at the pace he was?

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hi, Fox. We heard from Echo. Sorry about the trials.”

  More pity. Just what I needed.

  I shrugged. “I’ll get it next time. I’ll see you later. I’m going to grab some stuff from my room before heading to practice.”

  I ran out of the room as fast as my legs could carry me. I didn’t run to escape my grandfather, or even the specter of my father’s illness. I ran from the pity, as it was the last thing I wanted to deal with.

  I don’t need their pity. Dammit, I’m a Coulter, not a washout. I can’t be.

  Sasha

  * * *

  “What aspects do you want me to change?” I took out paper and pen, ready to take as many notes as necessary as I sat in Ida’s office.

  Ida shook her head. “Not many, actually. Just one major thing. We want you to focus on a central character, sort of like a case study. Yes, you’re talking about the effect that this amount of pressure can have on these young athletes well into adulthood. I just don’t think we can properly illuminate that without actually using someone specific as an example.”

  I waited for Ida to mention a certain local high school kid, for whom everyone had big plans. He made it to college, but busted his knee during his first game. His injury caused him to lose his scholarship, so he pretty much came back home to San Diego and started at a community college. He was trying to get his life back on track.

  I pointed to the young man’s name on the list. “You mean him?”

  “No, closer to home than that. Fox Coulter. You know him, right? The word is he’s a very good friend of yours. Other rumors are centered around the fact that he has been trying to make it to the major league NHL for years. Coming from a family like the Coulters? That’s huge! You should use that.”

  I sat up straighter. “You want me to do the story about Fox?” I repeated what Ida had said in the vain hope that I had heard incorrectly. There was no way that my boss, my mentor, was asking me to throw my best friend under the bus for a story.

  “Exactly.” Ida shrugged. “Well, in a manner of speaking. But if you use the template as a starting point, we can go from there. Expand on what you’re hypothesizing. I think it’d be great, and seeing as you two are friends, he’d be a perfect subject to focus on because you know him so well.”

  “Ida, I don’t think I can do that. He’s my friend,” I protested. “There are things that he’s told me in confidence. Things he would never tell anyone else.”

  “Exactly! You can get to the heart of the matter, of your friend, and also become a journalist. We’re not naming names. Why would I call him out? You can see what his attempts are doing to his psyche. Your relationship will inform your questions when you go talk to experts and psychologists.”

  “I’m not doing the story on Fox. Do you have any idea how hurt he would be?”

  “I understand.” Ida said. “And I’m not asking you to do a story on Fox Coulter. I’m asking you to do the story you pitched, just with Fox Coulter in mind. He makes a great case study. He’s young and has had every advantage known to man, but still can’t make it. So if someone like him can’t make it with an athletic gene pool like his, then what’s it really like for normal people?”

  I tried to sort it all out in my head. Use Fox to inform my story? No. I can’t do that.

  “I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be down for it.”

  “Sasha, you’re a smart kid,” Ida replied. “And you look beautiful on camera. I think with a story like this you can make your mark. Like I said, I’m not asking you to give up the source, and I’m not asking you to do a story about Fox. I think you can talk to him and use some of what he tells you as a way to map out your story. Take a little time to think about it and let me know.”

  I watched my boss walk away. What was I supposed to do? The tiny voice in my head spoke again. Well, it’s not about him. It’s about pressure from people like his grandfather and the rest of his family and what that does to him.

  I got an idea. There might be a way to do this story without using Fox at all. I had thought of another athlete to use as my focus that might work. Ida didn’t need to know, and that way I didn’t have to hurt Fox. The only drawback was that Fox would eventually see the story.

  Would he recognize some of himself? Not if I don’t use him as a template. I could interview some of his brothers. Bryce, Dax—hell, even Echo. Yeah, that could work. They’d all seen their share of adversity.

  I was friends with all of them. We all grew up together, but Fox was always my best friend. This might just work, and I could leave Fox out of my story.

  Once my brain worked out a way around the Fox issue, the excitement set in. They really liked my proposal. I could do amazing things. I could help people. My goal was within reach.

  5

  Sasha

  The next week and a half passed in a whirlwind of school, internship, school, work, internship, and work again. The restaurant was a high-end place, so the tips were generally pretty good. But parties also tended to take their time, making the turnover slow, which unfortunately balanced things out in the end.

  I’d probably have been able to make more if I worked as a bartender, but that would require taking a class and I was stretched thin as it was. I hadn’t found a new roommate yet, and desperation was becoming a thing with rent coming due in another week along with the electricity and water bills.

  “Hey, Freddie, how’s your apartment hunt going?” I asked the bartender, Frederica, while waiting for her to mix the drinks I needed for table seven. “I’ve got an extra room that’s up for grabs.”

  Freddie’s smile was strained as she concentrated on the shaker in her hands, the noise of the ice too loud for her to answer right away. “Sorry, Sash,” Freddie said as she poured out the drink and added its garnish. “I just finished unpacking at my new place. It’s smaller than a closet, but the view over the water is worth it. Not to mention the rent is manageable with me all by my lonesome.”

  Damn, I’d taken too long to ask. “Yeah, I figured, but it was worth a shot,” I said as I carefully placed the drinks on a serving tray.

  “You haven’t gotten back together with Ryan, then?”

  “Nope. There will be no mending of anything with Ryan,” I said. “I’m through making excuses for his general douchery, and I’m done wasting my time and energy on carrying his ego around for him. He picked up the last of his things while I was in class yesterday morning and then I had the locks changed. That’s the last I have to see of him…except when I’m at the station.”

  “God, working with your ex like that… It must suck,” Freddie said, as she set the shaker in the bin of dirty dishes and glasses waiting for one of the busboys to take it to the kitchen. A clean bin sat on her other side, waiting for her to restock the bar.

  “It is surprising how little time we actually spent together, considering we work at the same place. But then that was one of the things he’d been complaining about, so…”

  “Well, good luck on your roommate search. If I hear anyone asking around I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks, Freddie.” I scurried off to deliver the drinks to my table.

  I spotted my graduate advisor over at the far end of the bar. Dr. Gibbons caught my eye and indicated she wished to speak with me. At the first chance I got, I sidled up to the older woman’s seat, positioning myself so I could keep an eye on the tables in my section.

  “Sasha,” Dr. Gibbons greeted me warmly. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

  “I picked up an extra shift when one of the other servers called in sick,” I explained. I’d put in a request with my manager to get called first whenever something like that happened, so I could make as much extra money as possible. It was making things difficult at my internship, but hopefully I would find a roommate soon and I could go back to the schedule I kept before Ryan moved out.

  “Well, it must be fate, because I just have to tell you that I finished going over your proposal, and I love it. The sports angle is a great one for exploring something that’s relevant across the board. It’s a subject that ties in beautifully to our culture at large. Always pushing to succeed, to win, to get to the top, secure the American Dream and all that, but do we push too hard? Should we be preparing people for failure? Or does acknowledging the fact that we could fail hinder us? So many wonderful questions and I can’t wait to see what you discover.”