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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

JACK

“ G reat practice this morning.”

The entire locker room falls silent, not just because Jon entered, but also because of the compliment he just paid us.

I thought, over the years, I’d seen all sides to my stepdad’s personality. Turns out, NHL Coach Morgan wasn’t one of them.

“We’ve ground out some unexpected results against teams that were predicted to hand us our asses. That means, going forward, the league will be more wary of coming up against us. Bar a couple of you who I’ll speak to in private, I’m happy you stepped up the intensity out there this morning.”

Beside me on the bench, Sawyer is still hunched over, his forearms resting on his knees. He left it all out there in sprints and drills and led like a true captain.

I clap a hand on his back, noticing his shirt is slick with sweat. “Doing all right there, old man?”

Without moving the rest of his body, Sawyer turns his head to look at me. “I often ask myself why I like you. This is one of those times. ”

My palm circles his back as he brings a clenched fist to his mouth.

“If you’re gonna puke, please make sure it’s not on my new Nikes,” I plead.

Sawyer waves a hand, indicating he’s fine, before my attention snags on Jon and Tyler in the corner of the room. Tyler shrugs with his palms out at his sides as Jon continues to talk. I don’t need to hear what he’s saying to work out he’s not happy. And I’m not surprised either. Of the few exceptions Jon just mentioned, Tyler is definitely at the top of that list. Truth is, he has been for a while, and that has everything to do with him substituting extra gym and ice time for nights out. If Kendra has seen the evidence of his antics online, she hasn’t said anything.

As Jon finishes up his conversation with Tyler and stalks out of the room, my mind drifts involuntarily back to Sunday. The way she looked in that dress I’d picked out for her for the gala, the way she genuinely cared about the still-unanswered message from my dad.

The way I left at the crack of dawn this morning. I wish I were racing to grab a shower and heading back home to climb back into bed with her before she had a chance to get up.

“If I wasn’t already nauseated from practice, I sure as fuck would be from the look on your face.”

“Say what?” I reply, Sawyer’s voice infiltrating my thoughts.

He swallows thickly and stands, pulling off his shirt. “You look like a lovesick puppy or something.”

I mirror Sawyer’s actions. “Stuff on my mind—that’s all.”

With our backs to the guys, we both face the bench and work on getting ready to hit the showers. I swear I can physically see the cogs turning in my captain’s head.

“Why don’t you just come out and say whatever’s on your mind?” I ask, peering into my change bag to see if Kendra is up yet and has seen the overnight oats I left her in the fridge last night.

It’s a part of her training routine, I’ve noticed, but when she got home late after a heavy practice, she headed straight for bed and didn’t make them herself. So, I did.

“I don’t need to since I know you aren’t that fucking stupid.”

I’m still smiling at Sawyer, but I can’t help the twinge of dread that creeps into my brain. He’s talking about the gala.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” I play dumb.

He scratches at his chest in the usual way. “Kendra. You’re taking Kendra, aren’t you?”

I open my mouth, but he holds up a hand.

“And don’t ask me how I guessed. Your smile has gone from annoying as hell to all-out sickening, and since I’m the only one who knows about your living arrangements and your feelings for her … well, let’s just say, I won’t be rivaling Sherlock with my conclusions.”

Pausing on getting undressed, I prop my hands on my hips. In three days, it’ll all be confirmed anyway. “Yeah, I’m taking Kendra to the gala.”

“ What the actual fuck ?” Tyler’s breath blasts at the back of my neck.

Fuck. This is not the way I planned on him finding out. Truthfully, I didn’t have a plan since I seem to have lost my fucking mind when it comes to this girl, but him overhearing it in the locker room would not have been my first choice.

Bringing a towel to the back of my neck, I wipe away any remnants of his rage and then turn to him.

His face is exactly how I pictured it would be—beet red. His eyeballs are practically bursting from their sockets, and he clenches his jaw so tight that it’s likely getting a better workout then the rest of his body has in weeks.

“You’d better be so damn straight with me right now, Morgan. Tell me you aren’t taking my girlfriend to the gala.”

“Ex.”

“What?” he replies, too enraged to process my response.

“I said, ex, Tyler. She’s your ex -girlfriend. ”

With his jaw still tighter than the deke I pulled off earlier in practice, he drops his head to the floor and huffs out a laugh.

The uppercut he lands on the underside of my jaw is painful, but not exactly surprising.

I bring my palm to it; it hurts like a motherfucker, but I keep my eyes glued to his and rub at it lightly. It’s clear he only knows about the gala and not where she’s living. If he knew both, I’m pretty sure I’d be nursing more than a sore jaw.

“Still working on lifting three sixty on the bench press then, Ty.”

He rears back to hit me again when Sawyer steps in front of him, catching Tyler’s fist in his palm. “Hit my winger again, and this will go a whole lot further than these four walls.”

Tyler maintains eye contact with me as he drops his fist down and Sawyer steps away.

The first drops of blood land on my chest and make their way down to the waistband of my shorts.

Tyler steps even closer, his eyes burning into me. “Have you fucked her?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, do you?”

“Have you fucked her, Morgan?” he repeats.

The entire locker room is deathly silent as at least a dozen guys look on intently. I could easily claim I have, if only just to wind Tyler up further. But Kendra means way more to me than that. She isn’t a pawn in some game.

“No,” I breathe out. “Things only just started up, and I want to take it slow since she just got out of a toxic relationship with an asshole.”

His lips curl into a filthy sneer. “Story of your life, isn’t it, Jack? I mean, first you get shipped to the farm team for a season. Then you’re fighting for your place on the third line. And now you’re biding your time, waiting for Kendra to let you put your dick in her when, for years, she was only too desperate for mine.”

I swipe at the blood on my chin. “Sloppy seconds never felt so good. ”

Tyler throws his head back and laughs darkly. “You think she’s dating you for real? Here’s my best guess.” He gets fully in my face, our eyeballs near enough to touching. “This is one of two things: She’s using you to get over me. Or this is all just a ruse for her to piss me off and you to finally get one over on me since you can never do it on the ice. I don’t believe for one fucking second that you dating Kendra is real. She barely looked your way in college. In fact, I’m not a hundred percent sure she even knew you existed.”

The locker door bangs against the wall, and Jon strides back in. “I walked out of here, leaving calm and order, and walk back into shouting.” Scanning the room, he finally lands on me and Tyler, and his eyes drop to my jawline. For the briefest moment, they flash with concern before he blinks it away and thumbs over his shoulder. “Morgan, Bennett. My office.”

“But I was ab?—”

Jon cuts Tyler off immediately, “Don’t give a shit. Put your shirt back on. I want you both in my office, stat.”

The door crashes against the wall once again, and Tyler waits for Jon to leave before he looks back at me. “This isn’t over, not by a long shot.”

He spins on his heel and makes for his side of the room.

Grabbing my shirt, I pull it overhead.

“Here, take this. The bleeding has almost stopped, but it’s gonna bruise up good,” Sawyer says, holding out an antiseptic wipe for me to use.

“Thanks,” I say, swiping it across my chin and throwing it into the rubbish bin next to me.

Sawyer clears his throat from beside me. “He’s not going to drop it, you know.”

When I pick up my mobile, there are still no messages from Kendra, and I tuck it into the pocket of my shorts.

I’m about to head for the roasting of my life when Sawyer prods a finger into my shoulder blade, and I turn back to him .

“I still think you’re fucking crazy, by the way. But you made the right call in not hitting him back.”

Jon hasn’t said one word since Tyler started giving him a detailed rundown on what happened. Conveniently, he’s relayed the entire story, bar the uppercut he landed on my already-bruising jaw.

“So, yeah”—Tyler crosses his arms and sits back in his chair opposite Jon like some kind of petulant teenager—“Morgan thinks it’s okay to move in on another guy’s girl. Fuck bro code and especially fuck teammate respect.”

I want to bend over in fits of laughter at the way this guy clearly lives in the 1950s. But instead, I work to keep my face serious and cross a leg over at the knee, waiting for Jon to say something—fucking anything .

Clasping his hands together in front of him and leaning forward on the desk, he drops his head between his shoulders and blows out a long breath. “Can someone explain how Morgan’s face looks different from how it did when practice ended?”

I look at Tyler, who raises a brow at me. He has zero intention of throwing himself under the bus.

“Bennett lost his cool for a second, but was in the middle of apologizing when you walked back in,” I lie, and Tyler’s brow furrows at me in question.

“That true?” Jon focuses on Tyler.

A few beats pass as I watch my teammate gradually wade through his options before he nods his head slowly.

Leaning back in his chair, Jon drums his fingers on his desk, eyeing us both cautiously. “I think it’s fair to say, there is zero love lost between the two of you. The tension has been simmering since college. Back then, I’d have handed you both a warning and dropped you for the next game, but now you are pros, and with that comes a level of responsibility.”

He points at Tyler. “The second you laid a finger on your teammate, you opened yourself up to the risk of being put on waivers. Alex Schneider was the last guy that happened to, and let me tell you, our GM won’t hesitate to do it again. I have to report this to him, and the best you can hope for is a heavy fine. The worst-case scenario is, we make you available to trade.”

Tyler swallows and runs a stressed hand through his hair.

“I will, however, make it clear that you immediately recognized the error in your ways.”

Jon’s attention lands on me. “Morgan, I don’t know what the fuck to say to you, to be honest. It’s clear you didn’t retaliate, and for that, you just saved yourself the same fate as Bennett here.” He raises his brows at me. “That said, I don’t think I need to remind you of the stupidity of your actions. You’re a fucking professional, and while you’re not breaking any kind of terms in dating a teammate’s former girlfriend, you are putting the locker room at risk. And that’s all I care about. You fuck around with my team’s dynamics, and you find out just how far I’m willing to go.”

“I’m not planning on letting this interfere with my game,” I reply.

“Oh, it’d better not.” Jon looks between us both. “Because if I pick up on even the slightest undercurrent of tension”—he pinches his thumb and forefinger together, leaving only a tiny space between them—“then you are both being recommended for the farm team. That is, if you’re still here and playing at all, Bennett.”

His anger nearly reaches boiling point when he stands abruptly from his chair, and it rolls back into the wall. “Now get out of my office.”

Tyler’s already out of the door. I’m hot on his heels when Jon calls my name, and I let the door close in front of me .

“Yeah?” I ask as I turn to face the guy who straddles the line of stepdad and coach with expert precision. To an unknowing spectator of that conversation, you’d never know he was family.

Jon looks down at the floor, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweats. “I really hope you know what you’re doing with this girl, Jack. I also really hope she’s worth it. You realize this doesn’t look great right now. To everyone, this doesn’t look great.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to see a message from Mum.

Mum

Jon just told me. Jack, what is going on?! You never get into fights ON THE ICE, let alone off it.

Jon juts his chin at the phone in my hand. “That Felicity?”

“Yep.”

“She called me right after I walked in on you and Tyler getting into it.”

I repocket my phone and shrug a shoulder. “It’s fine. I’ll call her later and explain.”

I’m about to head out, feeling like there isn’t much left to say, when Jon stops me again.

“You and Kendra—is it serious?”

I close my eyes and depress the handle on his office door. “For me? Yeah. For her? I don’t know.”

Deep down, I know even that’s pushing it since Kendra only sees us as fake. Though, somehow, I can’t bring myself to admit that out loud, even if I know Jon wouldn’t say anything. Other than telling me I was an even bigger idiot.

He blows out a harsh breath. “I’d be a hypocrite to tell you not to chase the girl you want since I spent months going after your mom.” His voice softens. “You’re a good person with all the best intentions, Jack. Just make sure she’s on the same level, yeah? ”

Looking over my shoulder, I hold eye contact. “I will.”

The second I step out of the office, Tyler is in front of me, his face still contorted with anger. “I meant what I said, Morgan. This isn’t over.”

I smile mockingly. “Maybe not for you, even though it should be. That’s exactly why I lied and said you regretted punching me.”

He looks on, still as confused as when I told Jon.

“Kendra has nothing to do with you anymore. She isn’t your concern, and she definitely isn’t—and never has been—your possession. I told Coach you apologized because that’s exactly what you should do, right after you leave my girlfriend the fuck alone.”