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ELEVEN

Rowan

It’s a warm, sunny April day, and I’m glad I opted for shorts as I stand on the front step of Gene’s house. I was on my way home from the arena and decided to stop by. His wife Marnie opens the door with a smile.

“Hey, Rowan. Come on in. Gene’s out back by the pool.”

“Thanks. How is he?”

She shakes her head. “Bored, grumpy and stubborn.”

“Sounds about right.” I follow her out to the pool.

“Can I get you anything?” she asks. “It’s warm out there.”

“No. I’m good, thank you. I don’t plan to stay long. I just wanted to check on him and bring him a little gift.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.,” She opens sliding glass doors and calls to her husband. “Gene—look who’s here!”

Gene looks up from the book in his hands.

“Now you’re a sight for sore eyes!” he says, putting the book down.

I lean over to hug him. “It’s good to see you. How are you?” I sink into the chair across from him.

“Eh, you know how it is. I came home with a bunch of new pieces in my heart and a fuck-ton of rules about eating, exercise, all that crap.”

“Which you should already know,” I say pointedly.

“I do know.” He makes a face. “That’s why this isn’t fair. I don’t eat fast food, I work out, get plenty of sleep—I mean, if I’m doing all the right things and have had multiple heart attacks anyway, what’s the point of it? I might as well eat burgers and fries and enjoy my life.”

“I heard that!” Marnie calls from the kitchen.

“You were supposed to!” he yells back.

“Well, I brought you a little something.” I hand over the gift bag I’d brought with me. “I know you’re going to roll your eyes, but I thought the puzzle looked fun and I know you love sudoku.”

“I appreciate the sudoku for sure!” He smiles, pulling out the puzzle. Then he throws his head back and laughs. “Okay, this is good. Marnie and I will get a kick out of putting it together.”

I’d gone to a local place and had the puzzle custom made featuring funny faces from all the guys on the team. It’s a collage of photos I’d gotten the guys to send me, so I hoped it would make him laugh, if nothing else.

“So, how are you really?” I ask softly. “Don’t bullshit me.”

He sighs. “I’m pretty good, honestly. A lot more tired than usual but the doc wants me to start walking on the treadmill next week. We’ll see how it goes.”

“You’re only sixty,” I say. “You’ll be back to yourself in no time. I’m sure you’ll be back for training camp.”

A strange look crosses his face.

“What?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” he says, lowering his voice. “Marnie doesn’t want me to go back. She’s a tenured professor at UCLA, so she’ll work a few more years, but we’ve saved up and I could retire or do something that doesn’t include travel and all the stress.”

My heart sinks because I don’t think they’ll give me his job. I’m only twenty-eight and most trainers in the league are not just male, but they’re also in their forties or more. There are a few exceptions, like Dani Petrov, who’s the head trainer for the Lauderdale Knights, but she was both a college hockey and Olympic champion before she got the job and has been involved in hockey most of her life.

It’s different for me.

I didn’t get involved with hockey professionally until college, and even then, I hadn’t been sure this was the direction I was heading. I wanted to pursue sports training opportunities, and my first job fell into my lap, but working for an NHL team happened by accident.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, watching my face.

“I don’t know that they’ll give me the job,” I admit. “I’m young and female and, in the grand scheme of things, inexperienced. I was planning to get my master’s and work under you for another four or five years… this means they’ll bring in someone new and?—”

“Not necessarily,” he interrupts. “Not if you prove yourself to them during the playoffs. I’ve heard really good things about how you’re doing.”

“You have?” I’m startled because I didn’t think anyone was reporting to him about me.

“Sure. And Harper reached out, asking if I thought you could handle it.”

I hadn’t considered that either.

It was na?ve of me, in retrospect, but it makes sense.

Of course , she would reach out to him.

He’s the team’s head trainer, even if he’s recovering from a heart attack.

“I’m doing everything I can,” I say. “Harper and I talked and she seems happy with the job I’m doing. It’s a lot, though. I’m exhausted every night.”

“Now imagine being thirty years older and doing it,” he says. “That’s why I’m thinking of retiring. I just…” He shakes his head. “Well, I wanted to retire on my terms, not because of a damn heart attack.”

“Don’t make any rash decisions,” I say “Seriously. I’ve read about a ton of men who retire too early and then die. I think a lot of men need a purpose. Sitting home and staring at the walls all day, not having somewhere to go or anything to do, will bore you to death.”

“I think so too.” Our eyes meet and I see the conflict in his.

“Take your time,” I say finally. “You’re not coming back for the playoffs, so you’ll have the whole summer to see how you feel, get back into shape. And I’m good either way.”

“If I come back, it would probably only be for a couple of years,” he says slowly. “Are you okay with that?’

“I was counting on five,” I say, chuckling, “but I’ll take two. You’re the best trainer I’ve ever worked with—and I want to learn everything I possibly can so I make you proud when you do retire.”

“You already are,” he says. “I don’t know many people your age who could step up the way you did. And you saved my life. I don’t know if I’ve properly thanked you for that.”

“You don’t have to. It’s my job, and more than that, you’re my friend. What was I going to do? Sit there and watch you die?”

“You could have asked someone else to get my meds.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, please. Those pansy-ass hockey players? They were all worried about their phones. Someone had to take charge.” I’m joking, trying to lighten up the conversation, and he chuckles.

“Well, there’s that.”

“I can do the job,” I say after a moment. “Like, during games, I know what they need and I’m confident about helping if and when something happens. It’s the rest of the time that I second-guess myself. I still have so many questions…”

“I’m always here,” he says. “And frankly, if you needed to call me a few times a week to get some ideas, it would go a long way toward alleviating my boredom.”

I smile. “It would go a long way toward alleviating some of my anxiety too. I know everyone is watching, almost like they’re waiting for me to screw up.”

“You’re not going to screw up. I have complete confidence in you. I mean, how would you screw up anyway? You know the job, you know the guys, and you know how we do things. Sure, any new injury can potentially bring up new issues, but you’ve got the training and you’ve been with me for three years.”

“It’s been odd with so many new guys on the team, and I think a few guys have some whiplash-type injuries going on that they’re playing through. But they’re not saying anything. I can tell Canyon is hurting a little, and Ivan came back way too soon.”

“That’s hockey, though. This isn’t the first or tenth time a player—or a whole team of players—pushed through an injury. Just keep doing what you’re doing. I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would impact your job. Unless you sleep with one of the guys.”

“Wh-what?” I stare at him in horror. Had someone seen Blake and I almost kiss last night? Jesus fucking Christ.

He bursts out laughing., “I’m joking, Ro. Relax.”

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” I groan. “I thought someone started some rumor…”

“Well, I mean, everyone has heard that you and Blake dated in high school.” He pauses, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Please tell me there’s not anything going on there?”

“Of course not!” I stare at him as indignantly as I can.

It’s the truth.

But it almost wasn’t.

Last night, I almost gave in to that ridiculous chemistry between us.

That can never happen again.

No more massages—no matter how good it feels.

No more intimate conversations or walking me to my car.

I’ll make sure of it.

“I mean, no one has said anything,” he adds quickly. “It came up randomly, like a funny coincidence thing, but the vibe is more that you two can’t stand each other. So I was just busting your chops.”

“No,” I say carefully. “We’ve moved past that. Our breakup was kind of ugly, but it’s been almost a decade. I’m past it and we buried the hatchet. But there’s nothing between us.”

“As long as you keep it that way, I’m sure you’ll be fine. You just don’t want to be the only woman out there and then start sleeping with one of the players. That will make your life more complicated than it needs to be. It’s not fair, but we have to deal with the reality of misogyny, not the way we wish it was.”

“I get it. Don’t worry. That’s the least of my problems. I have zero interest in Blake beyond friendship.”

So why does my chest constrict painfully when I say the words?

Probably because deep down I know I’m a liar.

And I have no idea what to do about it.