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NINE

HANNAH

“I swear if someone doesn’t buy me a drink after the way life has been fucking me lately, I’m going to need a cigarette.”

I glare at my computer, skimming the email from another media source asking for Beckett’s comment on the Xander disaster. Beckett owns the Boston Revs—and along with his parents and siblings—just about the rest of Boston. Billionaires like him keep scandals like this locked down pretty well most of the time, but damn, this one is a doozy.

Sara leans into my office and smiles. “Oh, a good fucking. I’m always down for one of those.”

I close out of the email as my blue-haired friend steps over the threshold. She dyes it at the start of hockey season every year because she’s as superstitious as her goalie fiancé, Brooks. I’m not at liberty to share what I just read with her. It involves the Langfields, though it looks to be centered around the youngest sibling, Sienna. Though I’m sure Sara will find out soon enough, I’m oddly protective of Beckett, and I know for a fact that when it comes to this, he was only trying to do the right thing.

“I haven’t had one of those in a long-ass time,” I admit, rolling with our usual banter. Talking sex with Sara is a good way to distract her. She’s a hoe for a good dicking, just like I am.

Sara’s laugh echoes off the walls of my office. “Right. Everyone who stayed in that rental in Arizona with us knows you had at least one good dicking.” Arms crossed, she cocks a brow. “Millie hasn’t stopped crying about having to hear you chant her brother’s name that night.”

I never did give the girls details about sex with Daniel. I’m not one to kick a man when he’s down, and that boy was very obviously down after that night.

When I came out of the bathroom, he had disappeared. I figured it was in both our best interests to call it a night, and I woke up the next morning with the intention of checking on him in hopes that we could keep things from being awkward, but the man was already gone.

That’s when I made the mistake of asking Millie where he was. My friend was pissed.

“You mean he fucked you all night and then just left?”

Rather than own up to the disappointment that washed over me when I realized he’d vanished, I pasted on a smile and swore it was exactly how I would have wanted the weekend to end.

After all, I told him I’m the queen of unaffected.

“Please.” I scoff. “I’m sure she was too busy chanting Hockey Daddy to even notice.” The girl is feral for her husband. I push back from my desk and snag my purse from the bottom drawer. “Are we meeting the girls for lunch, or is it just us today?”

“Just us,” Sara says on a sigh. “Ava is leaving early to get Josie to dance, and Lennox is working on a big party for Sienna’s birthday, I guess.”

My instinct is to wince at the mention of the youngest Langfield sibling. Fortunately Sara’s on a roll and doesn’t notice.

“Oh, and Millie has a meeting with her dad to discuss her next album.”

God, our friends are impressive.

I don’t have to ask about Liv, Beckett’s wife. Yes, she’s our direct boss, but we are close with her too. Today, though, I can imagine she’s got her hands full dealing with poor Beckett, who I’m sure is working overtime to fix this disaster.

A disaster I, unfortunately, can’t help with. I will, however, lend support when it’s time to contain the fallout.

For now, all I can do for them is paste on a smile and pretend I know nothing.

“Sounds good. You’ve got another away stretch, right?”

Her blue eyes sparkle with amusement. “Already looking forward to having the apartment to yourself?”

I shake my head. “God no. I love having Noah around. And when he’s gone, Oliver goes to his mother’s, and then my place is too damn quiet. I never thought I’d like living with people, but it’s been fun.”

“How is Noah settling in?” She tilts her head thoughtfully. “Does he like the team?”

I shrug. “I think so. Honestly, he could get along with just about anyone.”

She hums. “I can see that. And he’s great on the ice. You coming to tonight’s game?”

I haven’t been to a hockey game since we made it home from Arizona. Baseball season is kicking my ass. But Noah has been on me about showing up tonight since the season is winding down. It doesn’t look like they’ll make it much farther in the playoffs, and after this game, they’ll be traveling for several days.

The overlap of the two seasons is rough on me. I hate missing so many of the Bolts’ games because I’m busy with work for the Revs. Hockey is my first love. Probably because of Noah, and if I could be in the stands cheering at every faceoff, I would.

Once again, I pull out that smile I’ve become so good at plastering on. “I’ll be there.”

The waiter has just dropped off our salads when my phone rings.

Across the table, Sara gives me a conciliatory smile. “The job never ends, huh?”

I turn the device over. I’m going to enjoy this meal before I allow myself to even take a peek at what disaster is waiting for me now. Though, in reality, not a whole lot has changed, this season feels so much worse than the last few. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m just tired of the constant go-go-go of it all.

Before Daniel asked if I missed writing during the season, I hadn’t really thought about it. For so long this career has been my life. My entire personality. Since I was young, I’ve been hell-bent on being independent. I can take care of myself—as well as the forty men on the roster and Beckett Langfield—thank you very much.

I never wanted to be like my mom—dependent on the man she was with at the time to pay the bills. Dependent on him to make her happy. No man or woman will ever be responsible for my joy, for my wellbeing. I’m more than capable of shaping my life into what I want it to look like all by myself.

But this job has lost its luster. Especially since I’m selling a pretty impressive number of books each month. Though it seems unbelievable, I think that if I could keep up with the readers’ demands, I could support myself solely on what I make as an author.

But what would that even look like? I’ve never been a homebody. I can’t imagine the company of nothing but a computer and a cup of coffee day in and day out would be enough.

If my career didn’t satisfy me, then would I fall into the rut my mother found herself in? Always searching for something more? So far, I’ve done well at trying to have a little less. Do I really want to risk throwing my life off balance?

Sighing, I push the thought from my mind and focus on my friend. “Why doesn’t your phone go off at all hours like mine? The guys on the hockey team can’t really be that much better behaved than my players.”

“Brooks just glares at them.” Sara shrugs and stabs at her salad. “It doesn’t hurt that because we’re engaged, I’m always around the guys. They can’t get away with anything, and I’m always sure to throw my two cents in before they disappear with a random puck bunny who has drama written all over her.”

Suddenly my appetite has vanished. “Hall and Snow must keep you busy.”

Sara’s fork pauses halfway to her mouth, and her lips quirk up. “You fishing for information? Thinking of going in for a repeat?”

Head dropped back, I bark out a laugh. Instantly, the tension I’ve been holding in my shoulders dissipates. God, that felt good. I swipe at the tears that form in my eyes. “I don’t do repeats.”

“Well, either way, no, they don’t keep me particularly busy. Hall’s been suspiciously quiet this year. They’re all a little on edge with the season coming to such an early end.”

“Is Brooks upset about it?”

She hums and tilts her head from side to side. “You know, I don’t think he is. He doesn’t like losing, obviously. But I think they’re all ready for a break. Between Aiden’s depression diagnosis and then War and Ava almost losing custody of Josie, it’s been a tough year. The whole team could use a reset, you know?”

Lips pressed together, I nod.

Shit.

On top of all of that, Brooks and Aiden don’t even know yet that their sister’s return is not going to be a happy one.

My phone pings again, and just like that, the tension is back. Motherfucker. I can’t control the media. Might as well suck it up and get to work fixing the team’s next disaster.

I flip the device over and unlock it, and when the headline on the screen registers, I hiss.

“Fucking Jasper.”

“What?”

“Looks like the man might have knocked a girl up.”

“This is bullshit, I swear.” Jasper Quinn stalks back and forth in front of me, his hair wild from the way he keeps tugging on it.

It’s nearly four o’clock, and dealing with his bullshit yet again just may cause me to miss the game I promised Noah I’d attend.

Though maybe it would be better if I didn’t go anyway.

No. Daniel ruined a good orgasm for me. He’s not ruining my favorite sport too.

I’ll fix Jasper’s disaster, and then I’m going to the game. Somewhere between the two, I’ll find a secluded place where I can scream my head off, because god dammit, I need that right about now.

“It would be a lot easier to believe that if you didn’t continue to fuck up.”

Another tug of his hair. “I heard you last year, Han. I need to clean up my act, and I’ve been working on it. I met a nice girl. We’ve been seeing each other. You saw her at spring training. She was there almost the entire time.”

I roll my tongue over my teeth. He and I have two totally different definitions of the word nice. He’s dating a ball bunny. And really, I’ve got nothing against ball bunnies. Some really are nice. But she’s not exactly helping him clean up his act. She likes to party even more than Jasper does. In fact, at this point, I’m waiting for Beckett to tell me I’m in charge of cleaning up her mess too.

Though I’m guessing she’s done with him now.

With a sigh, I prop a hip against my desk. “Like you said, almost the whole time. And almost is always the problem. There was that weekend when we were in Fort Lauderdale when she had”—I snap my fingers, trying to remember exactly what kind of event he told me she attended—“the Hooters competition. Did she win, by the way?”

Jasper deflates. “Nah, she didn’t even place in the top ten. It’s bullshit, if you ask me.”

Ah yes. It’s a real competition. Like Ms. America for Hooters girls. It’s in Vegas and apparently a big deal for a waitress to qualify. But I digress.

“That’s too bad.” I try for a sympathetic tone. Really, I do. “But you get my point. She wasn’t there, and this girl claims she was.”

I hold up my phone, where I’ve pulled up an image of the woman who’s gone to the press. I really don’t get it. Why would anyone want to announce publicly that they hooked up with a baseball player and ended up pregnant? What’s her goal? If she wanted money, wouldn’t blackmail be more effective? I sure as shit would have paid her to shut up. I’ve paid a hell of a lot more for peace in the past.

“It’s not my kid,” Jasper grits out.

“Jasper—”

“No, Han, seriously. Don’t you remember? You had those awful cramps when we were in Fort Lauderdale. We stayed in and watched a movie. I even went to the store and picked up chocolate for you.”

I frown at the memory of that day. My cramps have always been bad. Truly debilitating. I could barely get off the couch for two days. I’d been in the middle of yelling at him over god knows what that day when one hit me so hard I could barely breathe. And when I stopped yelling, it was the first time I’d ever seen him look truly concerned. The kid can be caring when he wants to be.

“Okay, I’ll admit that her rant to the media does seem suspicious. But if she’s not pregnant with your kid, why’s she coming for you?”

He bends at the waist, hands on top of his head. When he straightens again, he blows out a breath. “Who the fuck knows? I tend to piss people off pretty regularly. Maybe I flirted and then forgot about her?”

“Or fucked her last season and forgot her name this one?”

He shrugs, only looking a little sheepish. “Or that.”

With a snort, I set my phone down. “Fine. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Jasper’s green eyes light up, and that cocky smile returns. As if he knew he would get his way all along. God, men are infuriating. “You’re the best, Hannah.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Let me know the next time you get your period. As a thank-you for all you do for me, I’ll show up with chocolate and movie cuddles.” With a wink, he saunters out the door.

I can barely react, though, with my jaw on the floor.

Because fuck, I should have already had my period.

The last time I was graced with period cramps so painful I could only curl up in a ball and whimper was that day in sunny Florida Jasper was talking about.

Before I went to Arizona.

Before I slept with Daniel.

Shit.