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Chapter Twenty-Two

Michele

T he training room is probably cleaner than when the arena first opened. Every surface is scrubbed to perfection. The faint scent of antiseptic clings to the air, but it does nothing to mask the metallic tang of fear flooding my senses. I try to take a seat on one of the training chairs, but the minute I take a seat, my knee bounces, nerves skittering across my skin like static. The clock on the wall ticks far too loudly, every second a needle jabbed into my chest.

“What the hell is taking so long?” I mumble, glancing at the clock for the millionth time as I resume my pacing.

Cole has been gone for too long. Not that I’m exactly sure what time the Hendrix brothers and Jensen left the training room. I tried to sit and wait for one or all of them to return, but my nerves got the best of me. My anxiety once again got the best of me, and I was on my feet, cleaning and organizing the entire room.

“You need to sit down before you create a permanent wear pattern on the floor.” Parker chuckles as I spin around.

“Jesus Christ, Parker. What the fuck did I say about sneaking up on people?”

“It’s probably going to get me punched. Why do you think I said something to you from all the way over here?” He points at the two training benches between the two of us. “I really don’t want to meet Stacey and have to explain how I got a black eye.”

I shake my head, snickering softly as I resume my pacing. “She’ll never let you live it down.”

“Exactly.” Parker climbs onto the bench, leaning over to pat the empty one beside him.

I should go over and take a seat beside him and pretend like this is any old late night at the office, but I can’t. I don’t even know if I could sit still right now. “I wiped down all the tables, washed and folded the towels, took inventory of all the supplies, and sent a list of items we need to your email.”

“I got it. I’ll place an order in the morning. Thanks for doing that. I didn’t realize we were so low on some items.”

“No problem. Organizing is kind of my thing.” I giggle nervously, grabbing the hand sanitizer from the edge of the table and squeezing a healthy amount into my hand.

“I know.” Parker runs a hand through his hair, a soft smile on his face. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t appreciate it.”

“Did you finish the plan to present to my dad? I wanted to finish up here before heading to his office to discuss it with him. I figure the sooner we get started, the better, so we can ensure none of the players suspect what’s going on.”

“I got it started, but I wanted to get your opinion on a few things before finalizing it.”

“Great. Do you want to do that now?”

“How about you have a seat and tell me what’s been going on.”

“I can’t sit down. Too anxious,” I mumble, wringing my hands together as I continue to pace back and forth. “But there’s nothing going on with me. Did someone say something?”

I’ve never been good at playing dumb, but I can’t be sure Parker knows exactly what is going on between me and Cole. Besides, we only kissed for the first time a few days ago. Are we even at the point where we want to label it?

“I think everyone in this building knows what’s going on between you and Cole, or at least has an idea.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This is not good at all. It’s like all my worst fears coming to life all at the same time. I pull in a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. Okay, this isn’t that big of a deal. Cole said that he read the player handbook from cover to cover and didn’t see anything about employee relationships. Granted, I’m the first female staff member to work directly with the team, but I’m going to ignore that fact for a minute.

I should’ve known something was up when Beau and Cooper magically appeared to talk to Jensen. They are both team captains. It seemed logical that they’d want to do damage control and see what caused the rift between two of the team's players. But when Cole arrived to complete the trifecta, I knew there was more going on than that.

“And who, exactly, is everyone?”

“Everyone, Michele. I’m sure people from other teams know by now.”

Now it’s time to panic. It might not be against the rules for us to date, but there’s someone else in this building who may have a problem with it: my dad. Not only does he believe I deserve better than to work for a professional hockey team, he’s made it perfectly clear that I’m too good for hockey players, as well. Not that he wasn’t a player-turned-coach. They always say little girls marry men like their dads, right?

“No need to panic, Michele. Everything is going to be fine. I have a feeling that as long as your relationship doesn’t affect the team, your dad won’t mind too much.”

“Telling me not to panic is a surefire way to make me panic. It's like when someone tells you to calm down. No one calms down. They just get angry at you for trying to dismiss their feelings.” I wring my hands, trying to calm my mind enough to figure out what the fuck we are going to do.

Parker reaches over, placing his hand on top of mine. “Calm—never mind. Everything is going to work out as it should.”

“You don’t know that!” I screech, throwing my hands up in the air. I can’t break up with him. Well, I can, but I don’t want to. “You said Dad would be okay as long as it didn’t affect the team. If Cole really beat the shit out of Jensen because of me, this is definitely affecting the team. I just wish I knew what he said.”

“He disrespected you,” Parker responds without missing a beat, causing me to stop in my tracks.

“It’s not the first time someone chirped on the ice. Why the hell would Cole beat him up for that?”

I almost shit my pants when I saw the murderous look in Cole’s eyes as he was talking to Jensen earlier. I have a feeling that if Beau and Cooper weren’t there to keep him in check, I’d be trying to figure out how to bail him out of jail for murder instead of waiting for him to reappear. But did he really risk his entire career because someone said something mean about me? That doesn’t make any sense. It’s hot as fuck, but still doesn’t make sense.

“I have no idea, but it had to be pretty bad from the way Cole went after him. Your dad also kicked Jensen off the team.”

“He did what!” I screech, my anxiety shooting through the roof.

Jensen was one of the most promising rookies we had at camp this season. He could’ve definitely increased our chances to play for the Cup, especially with Cole’s shoulder stability still being in question. He wasn’t my favorite rookie by any means, but I googled him after our first meeting. He has the stats to back up his big mouth, that’s for sure.

“This can’t be good.”

Forget worrying about what my dad will say or do once he finds out there is something more than a trainer-player relationship between Cole and me. He’s going to lose his damn mind if this affects the team's ability to win the Cup again this season. This is his last season before he retires as head coach. He wanted to go out on a high note, and now it seems like it’s going to be full of nothing but turmoil, and it’s all my fault.

“It’s not ideal, but we can recover.” Parker slides off the edge of the bench, throwing his arm over my shoulder and pulling me in for a one-armed hug. “A little birdy told me that Cole should be on his way out of your dad’s office anytime now.”

“A birdy?”

“I got a text from Cooper.” He chuckles, pulling his phone from his pocket and unlocking the screen.

Cooper

Tell Michele that Cole will be returning in one piece shortly.

The verdict?

Cooper

He’ll live, but Jensen is gone. The last thing I need right now is to bail my brothers out of jail for killing someone.

Brothers?

Cooper

You know Beau is always itching for a good fight.

True story. Not that it needs to be said, but if he hurts her, I will go through all of you to kick his ass.

Cooper

If he hurts her, we’ll help.

“You’re one of them now, Michele. And the Hendrixes take care of their own.”

My mouth opens and closes like a fish as panic bubbles in my stomach. I knew we’d have to say something to Cooper and Beau at some point, but I didn’t think it would be so soon. I assumed we’d have time before we told his family about us. Potentially over a nice dinner I cooked for them in my condo, not because he got into a fight during training camp. What the fuck must they think of me?

The Hendrix men are a hockey dynasty. Sure, Dad was a pretty decent hockey player on his team and has been the head Coach of the Timberwolves for almost as long as Cooper and Beau have been on the team, but I’m nobody. They are in an entirely different stratosphere. I’ve met Mrs. Hendrix a few times when she came to visit Kyle at school, but that was just as her youngest son’s friend. Who knows if I’ll measure up as a potential girlfriend?

“I can see the smoke coming out of your ears, Michele. Stop overthinking things.”

“We both know that won’t happen. I’m a professional overthinker at this point.” I giggle, twirling a strand of my hair around my finger—another one of my nervous habits.

“Fair enough.” Parker looks at something over my head and smiles.

“He’s standing there, isn’t he?” Parker nods his head, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “How does he look?”

It might seem like a dumb question, but Dad has a bit of a temper, especially when it involves someone hurting his girls. I got a quick look at Cole before he disappeared, and everything looked okay besides bloody knuckles. But I saw the other guy.

“He looks fine. A little worse for wear, but nothing some TLC from his girl won’t fix,” Parker says, leaning forward to plant a kiss on the top of my head, but he freezes before his lips connect, shoving his hand between us instead. “I don’t have a death wish.”

I giggle softly, grasping his hand in mine. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Girl, if looks could kill, I’d be six feet under right now.” Parker quickly pulls his hand from mine, his eyes flicking to Cole before returning to my face. “He scares me just a little. All the Hendrix men do when it involves their lady loves.”

Love? Cole doesn’t love me. He can't. It’s too soon. I need to stop fucking thinking so hard. Stressing about how Cole does and doesn’t feel won’t change anything. It might scare the shit out of me, but it changes nothing. I’m in this relationship to see where it goes. It’s only logical to believe that stronger feelings will present themselves as we get to know each other better. I have no control over someone else's emotions. Only my own. Or at least, that’s what my therapist tells me twice a week. Right now, that has to be enough.

“Stacey is going to be staying at my place tonight. You’ll have the place to yourself if you need some privacy.” Parker winks before heading toward the training room door. I hear the soft tone of his voice mixing with Cole’s before the sound of the door swinging open reaches my ears.

My ears strain to hear his footsteps as he comes closer, but all I can hear is the low tick of the wall clock and the faint creak of pipes in the ceiling. The meeting seems to have gone on for hours in my mind. Far too long for anything good to have come out of it. Even with Parker’s assurance that everything is going to be okay, I can’t stop worrying. There are too many scenarios running loops in my head. Worst-case ones where Cole is given his packing orders, but instead of fighting it, he storms out with his bag slung over his shoulder and a fire in his eyes and disappears.

The panic rises fast and sharp, like cold water to the lungs. I swallow hard, my eyes darting around the room as I try to work up the courage to turn around and look at him. I didn’t ask him to fight for my honor, but knowing he did, that he lost control because someone had the nerve to disrespect me, does something to my insides that both excites and terrifies me.

“Hey,” I croak, my throat thick with unshed tears.

“Hey,” he responds, his calloused hand running down my shoulder, causing goose bumps to pebble on my skin. “Aren’t you going to look at me, M&M?”

I spin around, suddenly confused and terrified by my new nickname. I turn my head away from him, looking at the door into the hallway, but he grips my chin, forcing me to look at him.

He looks wrecked—but not in the way I expected. His jaw is tight, lips pressed into a thin line, but his eyes find mind and instantly soften . There’s blood on his knuckles, but there’s no other sign of the fight he was in earlier. He must have stopped to take a shower before coming to find me because his hair is damp, curling slightly at the edges. His expression is unreadable, shadowed by something heavy.

“What did you call me?” I ask, my voice coming out slightly higher than I wanted, lacking the warmth and richness usually present. It makes sense because I’m terrified of what this new nickname means. What it means for us.

“M&M.” His thumb brushes against the apple of my cheek as the corner of his mouth pulls up at the corner. “That’s your name, right? Michele Mercer? The daughter of the man that holds my entire hockey career in his hands.”

“Yup. And it’s also my favorite candy,” I blurt out, trying to put some space between us, but he doesn’t allow it.

“Are you planning to run away from me again?”

“That depends. Does it change anything between us?”

“Not a thing. At least not on my part.” His jaw is tight, lips drawn in a hard line, as he takes a step closer. “But you have to know your dad hates me. I’m likely the last person he wants breathing the same air as you, let alone being given the honor of touching you.”

“Last time I checked, I was an adult. I make my own decisions, and I choose you.” My jaw clenches as I try to blink back tears before finishing my sentence. “But if he cuts you from the team because of me?—”

“I didn’t get cut. Your dad didn’t know exactly what happened, but he knew it had something to do with you. I’m surprised he didn’t give me a medal.”

Relief slams into me so hard my knees nearly buckle, blinking back the burn behind my eyes, but Cole doesn’t look relieved. He just continues to silently stare at me, his eyes scanning my face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to?—”

“I wanted to.” His voice is harder now, sharp edges and full of heat. “I don’t regret it, Michele. I’d do it again.”

My entire body shudders at the intensity behind his words. I’ve never had someone protect me universally. My dad has always been there for me, pushing me to do my best and protecting me in small ways, but he always lets others bring me down. He and my family nitpick at my choices until I do what they want, making everyone happy but me. But not Cole. Cole risked everything just because someone said something stupid. Imagine what he’d do if I were in actual danger.

“You can’t say things like that.”

“Why? Because it’s reckless?” He takes another step, now only inches away from me. “Because it puts my career at risk? Because I might lose everything for you?”

My mouth parts to say something, anything in response, but nothing comes out. The scent of him—sweat, cedar, and the sharp edge of soap still clinging to his skin—wraps around me, tangling with my breath. My throat tightens as I look up at him, and what I see leaves me completely undone. Dark, fierce, and burning devotion shines brightly in his eyes. It takes my breath away.

“Because I don’t want to be the reason you lose everything.”

“You’re not the reason. He is.” Cole lifts his hand, brushing my cheek with his knuckles.

The dried blood scratches against my skin, but I don’t care. I want to feel it. Need to. Letting him know that there isn’t a part of him I don’t accept.

“He opened his mouth. I shut it. I couldn’t just stand there and let him talk about you like that.

“Michele.” His eyes bore into mine, peering into the depth of my soul as if he were seeing me, the real me, for the first time. It is like he is trying to memorize the shape of my fear. “I would’ve done worse if they hadn’t pulled me off him.”

“You could’ve been kicked off the team.”

“You matter more,” he whispers, leaning in slowly, giving me a chance to pull away, but I don’t. I never will.

And then he reaches for me, but I’m already moving, rising onto my toes as I tug on the hem of his shirt, pulling him closer to me. This kiss isn’t soft. It’s hungry and desperate. Cole kisses me as if he is drowning and I am his lifeline, guiding him back to the surface. Our mouths slant together, tongues tangling as we each battle for control.

“You scare the hell out of me.” I moan softly against his lips, my hands sliding beneath the fabric of his shirt. The need to touch his bare, taut skin overwhelms me. He’s so warm, so solid, all carved muscle and shaky restraint.

Cole lifts me like I weigh nothing, setting me down on the padded treatment table. My legs part instinctively as his hands roam over my waist and down my thighs. Basically tracing every inch of me with his hand, committing each of my curves to memory. I gasp when his lips find my neck, hot and open-mouthed, his teeth grazing just enough to make my pulse stutter.

“Good.” His lips brush my jaw, cheek, and throat before nipping at the corner of my mouth. “Because I’m not thinking straight anymore.”

“You never were.” My body arches, pressing flush against his skin, but I need more. “I have too many clothes on.”

“I think I can help with that.” He makes a sound that melts against my skin before he pauses, his forehead pressed against mine.

“We don’t have to,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Not tonight. I just—I need to be near you.”

His eyes flutter closed as I cup his jaw, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips. “I want you. Not because you fought for me. Not because of what he said. Because I want to be with you.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, voice raw and full of desire.

“I’ve never been surer of anything.”

“Then on your knees, Trouble. It’s time for your punishment,” he whispers in my ear before leaning forward and capturing my lips.