Page 14

Chapter 14

Ryker

I followed Paige back to her office, my footsteps heavy against the tile floor. She didn’t look back. I pushed the door shut behind me, a soft click echoing in the small room. Paige slid into her chair, her fingers already dancing across the keyboard, typing furiously.

“About the back-to-school event,” she started, her eyes never leaving the screen. “I think we should?—”

“What’s your plan?” I cut in, leaning against the edge of her desk. Her fingers paused, hovering above the keys. "With everything?"

She frowned, and that wrinkle bridged across her nose the way I remembered it. “I think we should focus on community engagement,” she continued, her tone steady. “Maybe host a meet-and-greet with the players and offer some workshops on teamwork and leadership.”

“Workshops?” I couldn’t help but scoff. “Do you think anyone’s going to care about that?”

Her gaze snapped up to meet mine, a flicker of determination in her eyes. “Yes, I do. It’s not just about promoting the team; it’s about giving back to the community.”

“Fine,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. “But how are you going to get the players on board?”

Paige’s lips pressed into a thin line as she straightened up in her chair. “I’ll talk to them. Most of them will understand the importance of this.”

“And if they don’t?”

“I’ll make them understand,” she said firmly. "Or you will."

Her confidence rubbed me the wrong way. It reminded me too much of my younger self—before I learned that confidence without control was dangerous.

“You think you can just waltz in here and change everything?” I challenged.

She tilted her head slightly, a small smile playing on her lips. “I think I can make a difference.”

I stared at her for a moment, then turned away, pacing towards the window. The city blurred together outside, an abstract painting of chaos and order.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” I murmured.

Paige didn’t respond immediately. The clacking of keys resumed as she typed out something on her computer.

“This isn’t just about you, Ryker,” she said softly after a while. “It’s about all of us.”

I stiffened but kept my gaze fixed on the view outside. Her words lingered in the air between us, an unspoken challenge hanging heavy in the silence that followed.

“Now, about the event,” she said, pulling up a document on her computer. Paige’s eyes lit up as she spoke, a gleam that caught me off guard. Her enthusiasm was almost contagious, but I kept my face neutral, arms still crossed. “We need to create an environment that’s welcoming and interactive. I was thinking we could have different stations where kids can meet the players, get autographs, and even participate in some mini-games.”

She paused to look at me, as if gauging my reaction. I stayed silent, just nodding slightly for her to continue.

“Additionally,” she went on, “we can set up workshops focused on teamwork and leadership. Each player can share their personal experiences and lessons they’ve learned. It’ll be both educational and inspiring for the kids.”

"You and workshops," I muttered.

I noticed the way her freckles danced across her cheeks when she smiled, the way her blue eyes sparkled with every word she spoke. It annoyed me how beautiful she was. I hated how it made me feel—distracted.

“And for the parents,” she continued, oblivious to my internal struggle, “we could have sessions on health and fitness, maybe even some Q the chair scraping against the floor. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“What are you afraid of?” she whispered, her voice cutting through the tension. “You keep accusing me of walking in here and trying to change things. You sound like a broken record.”

My eyes widened. The nerve of her to call me out like that.

She slowly stood up and walked around her desk, each step deliberate. I stiffened but found myself unable to move.

“What are you afraid of?” she asked again, her tone softer but insistent. “I know this team is like your family?—”

“And look what you did to that!” I exclaimed, anger flaring hot and fast. “You ruined everything. You and Brendan, you and…” I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge that night because it would make it too real.

“I didn’t know?—”

“It doesn’t matter,” I snapped, cutting her off.

“I left,” she said quietly. “I left.”

“That’s not good enough,” I said through gritted teeth. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, shaking with the effort to keep my emotions in check.

Paige took a step closer, her gaze unwavering. “You think holding onto this anger is going to help? It’s only tearing you apart.”

“You don’t get to tell me how to feel,” I retorted. “You don’t know what it’s been like.”

“Then tell me,” she urged, her eyes pleading with mine.

“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care. “I’m done talking about this.”

Paige didn’t back down; she squared her shoulders and faced me head-on. “You’re pushing everyone away because you’re scared.”

“Scared?” I scoffed. “You think this is fear?”

“Yes,” she said simply. “You’re afraid of being vulnerable, of letting anyone in.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” I shot back.

Her expression eased just a fraction, enough to unsettle me. “We all have our demons, Ryker. But running from them isn’t the answer.”

I felt a mix of anger and confusion swirling inside me. Paige had no right to dig into my wounds like this, but damn if she wasn’t hitting close to home.

“We’re done here,” I said coldly, turning toward the door.

But as my hand reached for the handle, Paige’s voice stopped me once more.

“I knew you were a lot of things,” she said, her voice steady, “but a coward wasn’t one of them.”

The word ignited something deep inside me. I stalked back over to her, my steps quick and deliberate. Without thinking, I grabbed her by the arms, pulling her close enough to see the flecks of color in her eyes.

“You hurt Brendan,” I snarled, my grip tightening. “What’s to stop you from wrecking this family? The family I actually?—”

I stopped. What was I saying? How did she have the capacity to bring this out of me?

Her face twisted in pain, but she didn’t flinch. “Are you afraid I’ll do that?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words tangled in my throat. “I…” My voice trailed off, lost in the chasm between us.

“You left,” she said softly. “After that night?—”

“I don’t want to talk about that night,” I growled, my grip bruising against her skin.

“You left,” she repeated, her voice unwavering. “And I thought…” She sighed, the sound heavy with unspoken regret. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not angry. I didn’t know…”

“Stop.” The word came out harsher than I intended. My hand moved to her throat, fingers pressing against her skin as if I could choke out the memories. But those eyes—those damn eyes—seared into me, unwavering and fearless.

I wasn’t afraid of Paige. I wasn't. I wasn't . But something else simmered beneath the surface—a mix of anger, confusion, and a flicker of something I couldn’t quite name.

“Ryker,” she whispered, her voice a soft plea.

Her breath brushed against my fingers, and for a moment, the world narrowed down to just the two of us—her heartbeat against my palm, the rise and fall of her chest beneath my hand.

“Why are you doing this?” Her question sliced through the tension.

Slowly, so slowly, I lowered my head. My breath mingled with hers, a shared moment of uncertainty hanging in the air between us. My eyes dropped to her lips, the curve of them almost too tempting to resist. I wanted to kiss her. God, I wanted to do so much more than that.

Her pulse thrummed beneath my fingers, a steady reminder of the life coursing through her veins. It would be so easy to close the gap, to give in to the pull that had been simmering between us for days. The need to taste her, to feel her warmth against me—it was almost overwhelming.

Paige’s eyes widened slightly, her lips parting just enough for me to catch a glimpse of her tongue. The invitation was there, unspoken but unmistakable. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing the internal war raging within me.

But then reality crashed back in like a cold wave. This was Paige—someone who had the power to unravel everything I’d built up around myself. Someone who could see past the walls I’d carefully constructed.

Suddenly, I released her neck and stepped back, putting much-needed distance between us. Her eyes blinked in surprise, and she took a shaky breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

I turned away from her, running a hand through my hair in frustration. What the hell was I doing? Getting involved with Paige would only complicate things further—jeopardize everything I’d worked so hard to protect.

“Ryker?” Her voice was soft but held a note of confusion.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. “This isn’t happening,” I muttered, more to myself than to her.

Silence stretched between us once more, thick and heavy with unspoken words.

“You think you can just waltz back into my life and pretend nothing happened?” My voice shook with barely contained rage.

“No,” she replied quietly. “But I can try to make things right.”

“Make things right?” The bitter laugh escaped before I could stop it. “There’s no fixing this. There's no fixing what you did."

She stood there, silent and unyielding, waiting for me to make the next move.

"With Brendan?" she asked. "Or with you?"

Fury surged through me, hotter and more volatile than ever. I stepped closer to Paige, my voice a dangerous whisper.

“You think you meant anything to me?” I spat, my words laced with venom. “It was one night. I didn’t even remember you when Brendan introduced us. I don't remember anything about it. I've had plenty of other women, more beautiful, more memorable than you. That night was nothing. I needed release, and you were so damn eager, it was pathetic. You're fucking pathetic. So easy, you crawled into bed with me. What, you wanted to lose your virginity to an NHL player? Fucking whore."

Paige’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t flinch. Her silence only fueled my anger.

“You’re forgettable,” I continued, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “You’re nothing to me. You hurt my brother, which I still don't understand because sex couldn't be that great if I couldn't event remember it.”

Lies. All fucking lies.

I remembered everything about it, everything about her , and I hated it.

I hated her.

Her face remained a mask of calm, and it infuriated me even more. Why wouldn’t she fight back? Why wouldn’t she say something?

I pressed on, needing to see her break, needing to see some reaction that matched the chaos inside me. “You walk in here, thinking you can change everything with your bright ideas and na?ve optimism. But you’re just another face in the crowd. Another temporary fix. But I will not let you fuck up this team the way you fucked up Brendan."

Still, she didn’t respond. She stood there, taking every blow without a word.

My breath came in ragged gasps as I finished my tirade. The room seemed to close in around us; the silence deafening.

Paige’s eyes met mine, unwavering and steady. Her composure only heightened my frustration.

I needed to get out of there before I said something even worse. Before I did something I’d regret.

Like break her with my words.

Like fuck her on her desk.

Like fall in love with her.

With one final glare, I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room. The door slammed shut behind me with a resounding bang that echoed through the empty hallway.

I didn’t look back.