Beck continues. “Back in the hotel room, there should be no bright lights, so he can’t be on his phone. No watching TV. And … no physical activity.” Physical activity? My gaze flies to Asher, and he smirks like yeah, not a smartass now. “So when you say physical …” “He needs to rest. No game tomorrow, no practice …” Beck eyes me. “And no sex.” “What?” “What?” he asks innocently. “I know what happens at these away games. I was a player too, remember?” Okay, has he guessed, or is he just being a douche?
