HAYDEN
The locker room was buzzing with the usual chaos after practice. The guys laughing too loud, the thud of gear hitting the floor, showers running in the back. The sharp tang of sweat and the faint chemical sting of ice spray clung to the air. Normally, it was background noise to me. Tonight, though, it felt like every laugh was aimed in my direction.
Because apparently, news traveled faster in our team than a puck on fresh ice.
Jason tossed a towel at my head the second I sat down on the bench. “So,” he said with a smirk, “girlfriend, huh?”
I pulled the towel down slowly, trying to keep my face neutral. “What’s it to you?”
“What’s it to me?” Jason snorted, leaning against his locker. “It’s everything to me. Do you know how long I’ve had to listen to Logan bet me five bucks every
