Opening her fingers, she peeked at me from between them. “What if I last longer than you do?”
Not gonna lie. That one stung. But it wasn’t totally unjustified.
I was new at my job, and coaches were replaced all the time, sometimes mid-season. I knew if I didn’t prove myself to management, I could be out on my ass. I was learning on the fly with no previous experience, and I prayed there was a little bit of grace given. If not, I wasn’t sure what I’d do. This job was a lifeline to stay close to the players I viewed as brothers, to ease the emptiness in my life with my livelihood suddenly ripped away.
“We’ll cross that bridge if, or when, we get to it.” It was the only response I could give. Neither of us had a crystal ball that could tell us how long I would hold my position.
Standing, I offered her my hand, and she took it, allowing me to pull her from her seat.
“Just on the plane, though,” she clarified. When I hesitated to respond, I caught a flash of fire in her eyes. “Or I could ask Braxton. I’m sure he’d be more than willing to offer up his conversational services if I told him Ineededhim.“ Those last few words were said on a breathy sigh.
Lightning-quick, I gripped her upper arm, hauling her to my chest as a growl sounded from deep in my chest. “Don’t toy with me, love,” I warned.
Even though her breathing quickened with how closely our bodies were pressed, and her fingers dug into my shoulders, she maintained the defiant façade. “Or else, what?”
I dipped my head, placing my mouth a breath away from her ear. “Hope you’re stocked up on turtlenecks because as soon as you’re healed, I’ll take over marking that pretty neck of yours myself. And that’s not a threat. You know I’m good for it.”
That was enough to break the trance I held over her, and she shoved at my chest with both hands, putting space between us.
Stepping to the side, she hefted her travel bag onto her shoulder. “Have you forgotten so quickly I’ve already been down this path before? I know how players operate, heard more lines designed to get women into bed thanyou could ever dream of. The only reason the two of us hooked up was because I was looking for something different. I’m done beating my head against a wall, trying the same thing over and over, and expecting it to turn out differently. I’m done. Thank you for your offer for the plane, but upon further consideration, I will have to pass.”
With that, she stormed off through the doors and across the concrete tarmac to where the team bus sat waiting.
Stunned, I watched her walk away. Was she really saying that if I were an Average Joe and had said the same thing, it would have been acceptable, even well-received? But because I was a former player, I carried some black mark of boyfriends past, and she wanted nothing to do with me?
She wasn’t making this easy, but she underestimated me. I wasn’t a quitter, nor was I one of those douchebags she’d dated in the past.
Blowing out a breath, I followed at a safe distance until she disappeared inside the bus. Stepping up the short staircase and past the driver, I found Jenner near the front, with an open seat beside him. After ensuring Bristol had found a seat with Alyssa, I dropped onto it with a sigh.
Jenner wasted no time in busting my balls. “You are so fucked, man.”
I ran a hand down my face, rubbing my palm across the stubble gathered along my jaw. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”
This whole thing couldn’t have come at a worse time or with a more complicated person, but I was in too deep now. There was no turning back.
Chapter 12
Maddox
Bristol made good onher promise to ask Braxton to sit beside her on the flight back to Indy, and I hated him for it. It was irrational. I knew that. He had a girlfriend he loved and was simply doing her best friend a solid, helping to ease her anxiety over flying. But in my head, she was already mine, even if she hadn’t accepted it yet.
What kind of sick fuck did it make me that I almost wished he hadn’t been enough to keep her calm? That she needed me instead to soothe her?
I was losing my goddamn mind—a mind where Bristol sat front and center.
I needed to get a grip. My focus was required on leading the Speed as their new head coach. The final cuts to the team had been made, and it was time to get a start on the season.
First up was our home opener against the Vancouver Orcas.
The stage was set, the crowd was amped up and ready, but of course, I was being tested already.
During warmups, our star goalie, Mitch Gunn, pulled his groin and wouldn’t be able to play. The temperature gauge on my trial by fire jumpedup a notch as my choice of backup, Sasha Gusev, would take his place, starting in his first game as a rookie. If he buckled under the pressure, I would look like a total ass to management, and my judgment would come into question.
The sharp stab of grief lodged in my heart when I entered the locker room, where the players were preparing to take the ice for the game. I would have sold my soul for one more game—to feel the ice carving beneath the blades of my skates, to cradle the puck on my stick for just a second before shooting it toward the net or passing it to a teammate.
Hockey had been the constant my entire life.
When my parents’ marriage fell apart, I had hockey.
