Page 12

CHAPTER 12

LEXI

Lexi

Are you sure I can’t bring anything else?

Hemi

Everything is covered. The dip and cookies are more than enough.

Hammer

Hollis ate half the salad I made last night while I was asleep.

Rix

I tested a bunch of new recipes so I’m bringing a LOT of food. Sorry and you’re welcome.

Tally

No cucumber salad, though, right? :Giggling GIF:

Hemi

Shilpa

Essie

RIP cucumbers.

Hemi

:cucumber dancing GIF:

Dred

You’re a bunch of deviants.

Lexi

???

A private message from Dred pops up.

Dred

Don’t ask about the cucumber.

Lexi

Now I want to ask about the cucumber.

Dred

I promise you don’t. Also, Hemi has these things catered, so don’t stress about bringing stuff. See you soon!

Lexi

Looking forward to it!

I smile as I set the phone down and finish getting ready. I’m nervous about being around Roman without practice or a game to focus on, but I’m excited to spend more time with these women.

“The whole team is invited, right?” Callie has been bouncing on my bed for the last ten minutes while I agonize over the right outfit.

I’ve already answered this question several times. “Yup. The whole team is invited.”

Hemi and Dallas have organized a team barbecue. The first official game of the season is two days away. The rocky exhibition games have leveled out, thankfully .

I’ve been working with Palaniappa and Grace, who seem to be connecting. And while I haven’t managed to get either Flip or Grace to open up about their mutual disdain, I’m making gains with Grace on a personal level. He’s used to being a scapegoat and a problem, and I’ve learned that calling him on the negativity and then praising his good work goes a long way. And Vander Zee approves which always feels good.

“I can’t believe I get to meet Connor Grace and Roman Hammerstein! This will be the best day ever!”

Fingers crossed Connor shows, or I’ll have one sad little girl on my hands. I mentioned during practice that my sister plays hockey and is a huge fan of his. He said he’d try to make it. Callie made him a card and is wearing her GRACE jersey. Although, she’s almost equally obsessed with Roman, so he’ll be a decent consolation prize.

Fee flops down on my bed. “Do I have to come?” She, too, has asked this question ten times. She’s dressed in her uniform of darkness: black jeans, black shirt, black eyeliner.

“It’ll be fun. You’ll meet the head coach’s daughter, and she went to your school last year, so you have something in common,” I remind her.

“She won’t want to hang out with a high school kid,” Fee complains.

“Just give them a chance, okay?” I need the black cloud around her to lift a little.

“Okay.”

How one word can be so heavily infused with disdain is a teenage wonder.

We drive the short distance to Dallas and Hemi’s condo. The subway probably would have been quicker, but Callie made cookies, and I made BLT dip, so the car was easier.

The party room is hopping when we arrive. Upbeat music plays through the sound system, and the space is full of massive hockey players, the coaching staff, and Hemi and the girls .

Callie’s face lights up as Dred comes over to greet us. “Dred! Yay!”

Even Fee perks up when she sees her.

Dred opens her arms and accepts a hug from Callie. “You look like you’re feeling a million times better.”

“I was only off school for one day, and I only missed one hockey practice,” Callie declares. “When can I visit you at the library?”

“Whenever you want.” Dred’s attention shifts to Fee. “Love that shirt. Pierce the Veil will always be one of my favorite bands.”

Fee’s eyes flare, and she covers the band emblem with her hand. “You know Pierce the Veil?”

“I’ve even been to a concert. Best live performance ever.”

“I would die.”

Dred motions between them. “You and me, girl. We can go together—as long as that’s okay with Lexi.” She gives me an apologetic look while Fee gives me an imploring one.

“Yeah, of course it’s okay.” I’d rather her go to a concert with a responsible adult than a bunch of teenagers who have a questionable sense of self-preservation.

Callie starts bouncing and grabs my arm. “Oh my gosh, Lexi, it’s Connor Grace. He’s here. Can you introduce me so I can give him this?” She thrusts her card at Dred. “I made this for him. Do you think he’ll like it?”

Dred manages to keep her eyebrows from touching her hairline. “Oh, absolutely. You’re an incredibly talented artist. And I love the use of glitter.”

Callie drops her voice. “I kinda traced it. I’m not good like Fee.”

“Still awesome.” Dred looks to me. “You want to introduce Callie to Connor, and I can introduce Fee to Tally?” She shifts her attention back to Fee. “She’s dying to meet you.”

Fee’s eyes widen. “She is?”

“Yeah. This whole crew is all about hockey, and she’s all about dance. She’s excited to have someone who loves the same things she does join the group.”

“Okay.”

Dred winks at me and guides Fee over to where Tally is standing with Rix, Essie, and Hammer. She’s immediately greeted with enthusiastic hugs, and her entire face lights up. I send a thank you up to heaven for this remarkable group of people who have embraced us as their own.

Connor leans against the wall on the other side of the room, his phone in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. That he showed up says a lot about his desire to figure out how to mesh with the team. His head lifts as Callie and I approach. She’s practically vibrating with excitement, but trying so hard to play it cool.

Connor slides his phone into his pocket and smiles as he notices the number 7 on the arm of Callie’s jersey and the card in her hand. “Hey, Coach, this must be your sister. Calliope, right?”

“You know my name?” Callie stares up at him with awe-filled eyes.

He drops to one knee so they’re at eye level with each other. “I do. And you know mine.”

“You can call me Callie. You’re my favorite player. I used to cheer for New York, but then you were traded, and my sister is your coach, so I asked for a Toronto jersey. Plus the mascot is funny,” she adds.

Connor smiles, and it softens his otherwise regal, sometimes harsh features. “It is funny.”

“Geese are always grumpy,” Callie says.

“This is accurate. Maybe it’s because they have to poop so much.”

Callie giggles then grows serious. “You were really great during the last game.”

“Thanks, and no penalty minutes,” he says cheekily, but then his expression shifts. “You know your sister is probably the reason for that. ”

“She said you work together a lot because she’s the defense coach.”

His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “What else has she said about me?”

Callie looks to me, as if asking permission.

I tip my head in encouragement.

“That you’re one of the top defensive players in the league and she’s excited about being able to help you harness your potential.”

His eyes flare in surprise, and lift to me. “You really said that?”

“Yeah.” I smile. “I did.”

“Thanks, Coach. That—” He clears his throat. “It means a lot.”

“Lexi’s a great coach.” Callie beams.

“She is,” Connor agrees.

“Right, okay.” I wave the compliment away and nudge Callie. “You have something for Connor.”

“Oh! Right! I made you a card.” She thrusts it at him and ducks her head as he takes it. “I traced you. I’m not that good of an artist.”

“I don’t know if I’d agree with that. Tracing or not, this is pretty darn awesome. And I love the glitter.”

“I wanted it to look like there were sparks coming out of your skates because you’re so fast,” she explains.

“I think you did a great job. Is it okay if I put this in my cubby in the Terror locker room, so I can look at it before every game?” Connor asks.

And oh my God, my heart melts a little. If more people saw this side of Connor, wouldn’t things be different for him? I tuck this moment away, because this is the connection Roman has been talking about. No amount of time on the ice can compare to a human moment like this.

“Oh yes! That would be great.” Callie nods enthusiastically. She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth and looks up at me .

I give her a thumbs-up.

She twists her fingers together. “Would you sign my jersey?”

Another smile spreads across Connor’s face. “Of course. I just need a pen.”

“I have one!” Callie fishes it out of the pocket of her pants. It’s maroon metallic, which I didn’t even know existed until she showed it to me. Connor signs her jersey while Callie stares up at him with stars in her eyes.

When he’s finished, he passes back the marker and holds up the card. “I’m going to put this in my car to keep it safe.”

“Okay. It was really great to meet you. I’ll come see you play this season.”

“I would love that. Thank you for the card, Callie.”

“You’re welcome.”

He gives me a chin tip and a small smile before he heads for the door, waving to a couple of the rookie players as he leaves.

“I can’t believe he signed my jersey.” She’s all smiles and happiness. “Can you introduce me to Roman Hammerstein now?” She points across the room. “He’s right there.”

I swallow, force a smile, and battle against the way my heart races when I’m about to deal with Roman—especially after what happened in the hotel gym. I swear, if he hadn’t walked away I could have made an untake-back-able mistake. “Of course.”

She grabs my hand and tugs me toward Roman, who’s standing with Hollis and Ash and Dallas. His gaze moves over me in a way that’s all too familiar before it shifts to Callie a devastating smile crosses his beautiful face. I’ve been on the receiving end of that smile in the past, and the things I was willing to do to see it again would make my great-gran roll over in her grave. I still wouldn’t take it back.

“You must be Calliope,” Roman says, and just like Connor, he crouches so she doesn’t have to crane her neck.

Callie’s eyes are saucers. She’ll probably talk about this day for weeks. “How does everyone know my name?”

“You’re a goalie, right?” Roman motions between them. “ Goalies know goalies.” He glances at the number on her shirt. “And you’re a Grace fan.”

“He’s good at helping protect the net. And he’s not afraid to get into it with players if it means they don’t score,” Callie says, almost defensively.

“That’s absolutely true. He’s a talented player,” Roman agrees.

Callie’s smile is radiant. “You’re my second-favorite player. Fee and I watch all your games. Even when I was a New York fan because of Connor, I still watched your games, too. My dream is to be the first female goalie for the pros.”

“That’s a fantastic goal. You have to be really dedicated, don’t you?” Roman asks.

“I have practice Monday through Friday, and games on Saturday,” Callie informs him. “But I’m going to come and see you play on a weekend if I have an early Saturday game.”

“Maybe I can return the favor, if your sister is okay with that.” His eyes lift to mine, questions there. And maybe an apology.

“That would be…great.” Callie’s whole team will lose their minds. I’ll have to sit next to him for an hour. It would be the most amazing torture.

“I would love that so much.” And because she’s eight, Callie throws her arms around Roman’s neck.

His smile is soft as he squeezes her back. I’m pretty sure I just ovulated. Why does he have to be such a good guy? My heart clenches at how sweet he’s being with her.

He’s this massive, imposing man, a legend in his sport, someone so many look up to. That I spent a weekend with him, that he was mine so completely for that time, still feels like an impossible dream.

And to see him hugging my little sister, knowing what she’s lost, being a role model and someone she admires, while also being the man who was viciously, ruthlessly thorough in his quest to bring me to orgasm any and every way possible… Well, that’s a lot for any woman to handle.

He is the perfect man. I had him. And now I see his beautiful face every day, remember all the ways he made me feel so good, and watch him be this awe-inspiring father, player, goalie, peer, mentor, and friend. It’s agonizing. Especially now that I know our time together meant something to him too. More than something, even.

When Callie finally releases him, I’m grateful that she grabs my arm and drags me over to where Fee chats with Tally, Rix, Essie, Dred, and Tristan. It almost looks like Fee and Tristan are having a moment. What’s even more astonishing is that she’s smiling and laughing and having a good time with surly as fuck Tristan. He’s usually so serious all the time, but here he looks relaxed and happy.

How much do I want to embrace this team like the family they are? Become fully part of it. It’s already happening.

I suddenly find myself on the edge of emotion, which occurs at the most inopportune times—like when I’m in a room full of my players. I can’t afford weakness when I’m surrounded by the team and management.

“Are you okay with the girls for a minute?” I ask Dred. “I need to use the bathroom.”

“Yeah, of course. You go ahead. They’re in good hands.” Dred squeezes my arm.

The signs for the bathroom lead me through the kitchen. I take a moment to collect myself. I don’t know how to classify my emotions. There’s real grief, in part over the loss of my mom, but beyond that, my chest aches at having had someone so wildly flawless and never being able to fully appreciate him for longer than a couple of days. Would things have been different if I stayed? I was so young. In my mid-twenties to his mid-thirties at the time. Green. New. How would he have taken me seriously? Why am I entertaining this when it’s in the past?

I wet a paper towel and dab cold water on my neck. I’ll go back out there and stay close to Dred. She’s a safe space. I’ll keep my distance from Roman. I have to.

But I run into him as I pass through the kitchen. Every private moment with him feels dangerous. He’s chipping away at my defenses, leaving me naked and vulnerable in a way only he’s capable of. Every part of me yearns for him. For the easy smile that was once directed at me, for the feel of his body wrapped around mine. What I wouldn’t give to be his again for one more night. But more than that, I long for the other parts of him too, for the intelligent player who so easily shares his experiences, who guides and encourages. I want that man, too.

He stops arranging broccoli on the veggie platter and plants his fists on the counter. “I shouldn’t have offered to come to Callie’s game. I wasn’t thinking.”

“She would love for you to come.”

His jaw works. “And what about you? Would you love for me to come?”

My brain interprets that not at all the way he meant it, and before I can stop myself, I murmur a horribly moany, “Yes, please.”

The right side of his mouth curves up. He picks up the veggie tray and heads straight for me. He bends until his lips are at my ear. “You’re a little too tempting for your own good, Coach.”

He leaves me standing there, wishing, not for the first time, that our paths had crossed again a year from now, after he retired—when wanting him wouldn’t compromise everything I’ve worked for.