One I had to somehow figure out without ruining both our careers.
So many things stacked against us.
So many things screaming at us to stop what was between us.
And yet, as he reached for my hand, I let him take it.
Because he lit up my insides, set me ablaze with a simple look, and made me feel so much like myself I hadn’t realized I’d lost who I was in the years we’d been separated.
“I like your problems.” He smirked. “Let me help you with them.”
And, damn him, it would be so easy to let him.
Tell him the truth and have him shoulder some of this weight.
But it would hurt him.
Because I knew if I told him how horrible my ex was, he wouldn’t hesitate to crush him when they played Ontario.
And that would cause a whole other set of problems.
God, I’d made such a mess of my life, and now I was putting Bentley’s livelihood at risk.
It wasn’t fair—the way my heart begged for him.
It would be so much easier for us both if we couldn’t stand each other. If our childhood love had simply been that—sweet and forgettable.
But it wasn’t.
It was soul-altering.
He’d branded himself on me long ago.
And it was impossible to shake. Especially when he looked down at me like he was now.
“Fine,” he said, a sigh on his lips. “Let me in when you choose to.” He smiled at me, grazing his thumb down my cheek. A warmth chased away the cold threatening to consume me. “For now, show me what you’ve got.”
The man was fire on the ice, skating so fast and hard my heart stuttered. Being so damn graceful and lethal at the same time . . .
It was beautiful.
I skated after him, matching him stride for stride, in perfect sync.
As we’d always been.
My heart beats for yours.
And I felt it then, that all-consuming love that shattered my world so long ago.
Felt it racing through me as we laughed and skated and bantered.
As he immersed himself into my techniques, my pointers, fully supporting my distraction.
Pulling me out of myself, bit by bit, until I couldn’t see the reasons we shouldn’t chase this happiness.
Until I could almost taste the hope spilling from us both.
Until I was certain I’d find a way to make this all work.
Make everything right again.
Because if I couldn’t . . .
It would turn us to nothing but a pile of ash on the ice.
Chapter 13
Bentley
I shredded the ice, my eyes only for my target.
My quads burned, the breath hot in my lungs as I tracked him across the ice.
Smack!
I rushed him, throwing my shoulder into his chest, checking him against the boards.
He fumbled on his skates, the wind knocked out of him.
The momentary delay allowed Warren to shoot the puck in for a goal.
And just like that, we’d won our first game.
I helped the guy up to his feet, only now realizing he’d fallen on his ass after the hit.
“Good hit, asshole,” the guy said, breathless.
“Almost didn’t catch you, dick,” I said, back, releasing him.
We tapped gloves before heading to our separate boxes.
An hour later—after interviews and some photos and Coach’s postgame locker room chat—we hit the showers. Each Shark riding high off the opening win.
Me especially, since Coach put me in for an entire period toward the end when it became clear Gage was favoring his shoulder more than usual. And while I never wanted him to reinjure himself, I was more than happy for the extra ice time.
More especially because Chloe had been watching from the box, right next to Coach.
Cheering me on . . . cheering us all on.
After successfully scrubbing the sweat and grime from the game, I dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a blue Henley, the sleeves pushed up to my elbows.
“Hey, man, you good?” I asked Gage, who still hadn’t slipped his shirt over his head. The fabric hung between his hands as he stared at the floor, completely somewhere else.
His eyes snapped up to mine, clearing of their fog, and he nodded. Moving to slip the shirt on, he winced slightly before tugging it over his head. “You did good, Rookie.”
“Thanks,” I said, both me and Rory now tracking his movements like either of us could stop the shoulder from crumbling.
“I’m all right,” he said more gruffly when Warren stopped packing his bag to watch, too. “God, you guys are a bunch of mother hens.”
I snorted. “I’m not. I’m secretly hoping you’ve destroyed it so I can take your spot.”
Gage snapped his fingers at me, a smirk on his lips. “We both know that isn’t true, kid.”
I shrugged, but my laugh betrayed me. “I’m twenty-seven, dick,” I said.
They used to think that about me.
That I was just a cocky-kid who only wanted was Gage’s position—just because I’d walked on the team with something to prove.
But they knew better now—as did I.
They taught me more than Coach ever had. More than the practices or training.
They had experience I couldn’t touch—despite only a six-year difference in our ages.
“Still a kid,” Gage said, shaking the water from his black hair. He arched a brow at me. “But if we’re in the mood for low-blow jokes . . .” He walked toward me, and I instinctively covered my sack, fearing physical repercussions for running my mouth. “My shoulder is kind of stinging.”
My shoulders relaxed, and I dropped my hands from my junk. “That’s not a joke.”
He smirked. “Think maybe I need to go visit Chloe. Ask her to rub some salve on it or something.”
A growl ripped from my lips, unavoidable with the image he painted.
Not that it would ever mean anything—Bailey was Gage’s world.
He burst out laughing, Rory and Warren joining in at my expense.
I uncurled my fingers, which had flexed into fists.
“Shit,” I said, raking my fingers through my still-damp hair. “I need to get a fucking grip.”
Rory clapped me on the back. “Yeah. Good luck with that.”
“We all know what it’s like to be there,” Warren added.
Gage stretched his shoulder. “But for real,” he continued. “I may actually have to go see her. Don’t rip my head off, okay?”
I rolled my eyes. “I won’t, man. That’s her job. And I don’t really want you hurt. You know that.”
“I know, Rookie,” he said, dropping his arm. “I know.”
“Anything you’d like to spill about that,” Rory said, eyeing me.
“About Gage’s shoulder?” I asked, being the smartass they knew me for.
“Ha, ha,” he said. “The PT. Some pretty heated looks happening there. Plus, Gage here walked in on something—”
Gage smacked him in the chest, and I laughed.
“Fucking gossip worse than old women.” I shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest. “He didn’t walk in on anything. I asked for a lesson after practice.”
Rory raised his eyebrows.
Warren snorted.
“Did she give it to you?” Rory asked, his tone overly suggestive.
Fuck, these guys probably already knew everything.
Could likely read it on my fucking face every time I looked at her.
And if they could see it . . .
“Rogers,” Coach yelled from his office, and I actually flinched.
“What the fuck?” I whispered, my eyes flashing wide at the guys.
Gage shrugged.
Warren shook his head.
Rory narrowed his gaze. “Fuck, dude what did you do?”
“Nothing,” I hissed.
Except sneak around with the PT for the
Sharks.
The one that was totally off-limits.
The one who’d owned my heart since I was eleven years old.
“Rogers,” Coach yelled again. “Get in here.”
Gage nudged me when I couldn’t get my feet to move.
I tossed a panicked look over my shoulder, only blowing out a breath when Gage offered a supportive nod.
“Coach?” I asked, hating that my voice cracked as I hovered in the opened doorway of his office. Like if I stepped all the way inside I’d disintegrate.
“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair before his desk.
I sank into it, mentally preparing my argument.
I’ve loved her my whole life.
We aren’t hurting anyone.
It’s not her fault.
This doesn’t interfere with our professional positions.
My muscles locked and tensed, the flight or fight instinct kicking in so much I felt like I could take on an extra game.
In the moments he stared at me, sized me up, something clicked into place.
I wasn’t scared for my job.
I was terrified for Chloe’s.
Because, sure, I loved playing for the Sharks. It had been a dream of mine since I could remember.
But she needed this job. Needed that signing bonus to take care of her mother.
And if we were outed—I’d take the fall for her without even blinking.
God damn, I loved her.
Loved her like I couldn’t believe, even after all this time.
A prickle of anger filtered into my blood, cursing our situation. Wishing we were just allowed to be fucking happy.
“How much time have you been spending with Lewis?”
I flinched at the sound of Chloe’s last name.
“Coach?” I tilted my head, prepared to play innocent until proven guilty and all that.
“Or is it McPherson, Jackson, and Kinley?”
I furrowed my brow, holding my breath. “Sir?”
The ghost of a smile shaped his normally stern as shit lips as he pointed at me. “Your game,” he said, pointing at me. “has improved immensely over the past two seasons.” He sat back in his seat, relaxed, for once. “I’m wondering if the source is the guys, or if you’ve taken upon yourself some extra training with Lewis.”
A breath released from my lungs so fast it almost hurt.
“Both,” I blurted, so damn thankful this conversation wasn’t the one I thought we were about to have.
He tilted his head. “You all right?” he asked, motioning to me. “You look nervous.”
I arched a brow at him. “Coach, you normally don’t call anyone in here unless you’re about to hand them their ass.”
He chuckled, his eyes beaming like it was a compliment. “Well, that’s not entirely true. Exhibit A.” He pointed at me again.
“Thank you,” I said. “For the extra time on the ice.”
“You did great. I like where your head is at.”
I nodded.
“You could earn more time,” he said, leaning forward on his desk. “If you keep this up. I’ll be forced to rethink things. See where I need you most, and where I need Gage most.”
I swallowed hard, hating that I was in competition with him but knowing there was no other way to play.
“Stay focused, kid. Good things will happen if you do.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, standing at his dismissal, his head already plunged into one of five of his favorite playbooks.
I shut his office door behind me, finding the locker room empty.
Except for the light on in Chloe’s exam room, her silhouette framed in the blinds as she peered out.
Likely having the same panic attack I had seconds ago.
Before Coach had complimented me.
That shit didn’t happen every day.
It was a huge step in terms of my career.
Making it that much clearer what I had at stake.
A starting position on this team—if Gage ever decided to pass it down, or if he was forced to.
Another glance at Chloe, who flicked the blinds closed.
I swallowed around the knot in my throat, forcing myself to walk slowly to her door.
She opened it before I knocked.
“What can I do for you, Rogers?” she asked, her tone betraying herself only to me.
Worry.
Fear.
Slight hint of regret.
I wanted to reach out and smooth the crease between her brow.
Wanted to kiss her lips and assure her everything was fine.
But I couldn’t.
Because it was far from fine.
The love of my life stood before me, her eyes locked onto mine, her chest rising and falling as she eagerly awaited my words—and I couldn’t fucking touch her. Had to pretend that she wasn’t mine. That she didn’t own every inch of me.
God damn, what had we gotten ourselves into?
“Hey, Chloe,” I finally said, leaning against her doorframe, keeping it casual. “Coach was just complimenting me on my game. He thinks you’re responsible. Maybe we should keep up our lessons.”
Her shoulders dropped, the air rushing out of her lungs and hitting my chest.
“Yes,” she said, the breathlessness of her tone sent heat straight to my dick.
Damn this woman.
It didn’t take a flicker for me to want her.
To want to risk it all and lock us in her exam room, bend her over the table right now and make her scream my name.
Desire churned in her eyes, swirled and teased as she read what must be written all over my face.
“I think we should keep up our lessons,” she said, standing a little straighter, popping that hip out just to taunt me.
Later . . . I would lick and bite and suck that attitude out of her.
“Tomorrow good?” she asked. “After practice?”
I nodded and lowered my voice to barely a whisper. “Tonight would be better.”
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “I have to be somewhere tonight,” she admitted.
Her mom.
I didn’t dare ask to go again.
I knew it was already so fucking hard for her, I didn’t want to add to it.
But damn if I didn’t want to be there for her.
Simply be anywhere she would be.
She held up her finger, spinning into her exam room and returning a few moments later with a piece of paper in her hand. “Be sure to do these stretches,” she said, handing me the paper and glancing over my shoulder.
“Night, Lewis!” Coach called out, then eyed me. “Rogers, you heading out?”
“Yeah, I’ll walk with you.”
“I’m not that old,” Coach teased. “I don’t need protection.”
I laughed. “Not you I’m worried about.”
“Let me grab my stuff,” Chloe said. “Both you big burly men can protect little old me.”
I tried not to gape at her.
Me, Coach, and her walking to the player’s lot?
Fucking brilliant.
“Ha,” Coach said. “I think you’re stronger than the two of us put together, Lewis.” He laughed. “I heard a rumor that you put Henderson on his ass for back-talking you in camp.”
She grabbed her bag without a care on her face and walked beside Coach out of the locker room, me tailing behind them.
“Rumor is true,” she said, slight pride lacing her tone.
No shit?
Henderson was twice my size and an enforcer for the Canucks.
It was my turn to have pride bloom in my chest.
“But to be fair,” she added as we made it to the parking lot. “We were on the ice and he was seriously neglecting his balance.”
I snorted, the vision of her laying him out rushing through me.
My fierce, sharp, beautiful Chloe.
Mine.
Coach chuckled as he made it to his car. “Well, thanks for protecting m
e.” He tossed his stuff in and added, “And my players,” before falling behind the wheel.
I waved to him as he drove off, and then my eyes fell on Chloe.
Or more so, her ass as she purposely swished her hips as she clicked away to her car.
Not even a goodbye?
I flashed her a devious look when she glanced at me from behind the wheel, promising her punishment for that later.
I fingered the paper still in my hands, unrolling the note.
It was an address and time for tonight with the words only if you want to come, no pressure scrawled beneath it.
My heart doubled in size.
She wanted me to come with her to see her mother.
The invitation spoke more volume about her feelings than how she sighed my name when I sank between her thighs.
Coach’s words echoed in my head.
Keep it up and good things will happen.
Then why the hell did I feel that now, finally, as my heart soared for this woman, for this life, that it was all about to come crashing down?
Chapter 14
Chloe
I showed up at the care facility a half-hour earlier than I wrote on the paper I’d handed Bentley.
I wanted to gauge my mother’s mood beforehand—make certain she was up for visitors.
“She’s in a splendid mood,” John assured me as we spoke at the front desk. He’d come out to meet me once I’d signed in with the receptionist. “She has been in great spirits, actually, since your last visit.”
And since the doctors had placed her on a high dosage. Switching up her cocktail was nothing new to me—my whole life, dozens of different doctors and tests and trials, they’d constantly changed the formula in an attempt to get a better result.
These past few weeks, here, had been the most eye-opening.
“I’ll go see her then,” I said to John, readying to walk that way.
“Be sure to stop by here on your way out, Ms. Lewis,” the receptionist halted me.
“What for?” I asked.
She flicked her eyes to John, then back to me. “It’s the end of the month,” she said. “Time to settle the bills.”
“I’m on auto-pay,” I said, my stomach twisting.
“Yes,” she said. “But with the new additions we need to get another signature and approval for the updated amount.”
“All right,” I said, resting my hand on the desk for a moment. “There might be a Bentley Rogers showing up—”
Rookie (Seattle Sharks Book 4) Page 12
