Page 22 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO (Second Chance Hockey Players #1)

Chapter sixteen

Liam

T he house is quiet, but my mind is anything but. I drop my keys on the counter and slump onto the couch, the day playing over and over in my head. Especially our last conversation and her denial…

"Cheating? You thought I cheated? Wow. You really believed what you wanted, huh? I never cheated, Liam."

She had looked at me like I had slapped her. That expression is burned into my mind now. My fists clench as I relive the moment. The way her voice cracked, the fire in her eyes as she stood her ground, looking me dead in the eyes as she said that.

But then, it is possible to lie while looking someone dead in the eyes, right?

And yet, for a split second, some small part of me - some stupid, traitorous part - wanted to believe her. God help me, I wanted to. For a second, I wanted to believe that this felt like the Hazel I knew, that the one who made me believe in forever was standing there again, telling me the truth.

But how could I? There was lots of evidence to back it up, and then she hit the nail in the coffin when she left.

I sit up, running a hand through my hair, and let out a heavy sigh. This is why I did not want her back in my life. Hazel McKee has always been chaos, a storm I could not resist.

I lean my elbows on my knees, staring at the floor, and my mind drifts to the first time I saw her.

***Flashback (16 years old) ***

It was a summer afternoon, the sun shined overhead, and the waves crashed lazily against the shore. Logan was mid-rant about his favorite hockey player, his voice rising above the chatter of the beachgoers around us.

“I’m telling you, Gretsky’s got nothing on Orr,” he said, throwing a handful of sand at me.

“Yeah, okay, and pigs can fly,” I shot back, shielding my face.

“You just don’t get it.” Logan huffed. “I am just saying, there is no way Gretsky isn’t the GOAT on the ice. Have you seen him skate, dodge, and pass? And the way he scores…, it is epic.”

“You are delusional. Orr’s stats speak for themselves. End of discussion.”

Logan groaned dramatically, throwing his head back like I had just insulted his entire family. “Stats don’t mean squat if you don’t have trophies to back them up.”

“You’ve got issues, you know that?” I laughed, shaking my head.

He was about to fire back when voices from the other side of the beach were raised and grabbed our attention. A crowd was forming, people craning their necks and murmuring.

“What’s going on over there?” Logan asked, sitting up.

“Don’t know. Don’t care,” I muttered, lying back down. “Nothing to concern ourselves about.”

Logan nudged me with his foot. “Come on. Let’s check it out.”

“Pass.”

He frowned, then grinned mischievously. “What if it’s a damsel in distress? Aren’t we supposed to be all noble and heroic?”

“Right, because you’re such a knight in shining armor material,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Logan did not wait for a proper response. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet, dragging me toward and into the crowd, weaving through the cluster of people who had gathered around until we had front-row seats.

At the center of it all were two guys and a girl, their argument loud and heated.

“You’re just gonna walk away after everything?” one of the guys barked, stepping closer to the girl, his voice laced with anger.

“Maybe if you acted like a decent human being for once, I wouldn’t have to,” she snapped back, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” he shot back, his face twisting in frustration. “You’re the one who ran your mouth.”

“I told the truth,” she countered, lifting her chin defiantly. “If you can’t handle that, maybe you should think twice before screwing people over.”

The second guy, who had been quietly simmering, finally chimed in, his voice colder. “You do not get to talk to him like that. In fact, you do not get to say anything else.”

The girl turned to him, her eyes blazing. “Really? That is rich, coming from someone who can’t keep his fists to himself.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd at her words, and I saw the second guy’s jaw clench.

“Careful what you say,” he warned, his tone low but threatening. “You’re walking a fine line.”

“Or what?” she challenged, taking a bold step forward. “You will try to scare me into silence like you do everyone else? Newsflash: it is not working.”

The first guy let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “You really do not know when to stop, do you? Maybe someone needs to teach you a lesson.”

“What’s the matter?” She retorted, her voice cutting through the tension. “Can’t handle the fact that someone finally called you out for the bully you are?”

His face darkened, and before anyone could react, he shoved her hard.

She stumbled backward, falling into the sand with a thud. A sharp intake of breath swept through the crowd as the second guy stepped forward, his hand raised like he was about to hit her. My fists clenched instinctively, but before I could move.

Thwack!

A Coke can sailed through the air and hit him square in the chest, cutting his movement short.

“What the hell?” He snarled, looking around. “Who the heck did that? Huh?”

A girl pushed through the onlookers; her dark red hair was pulled into a messy bun. She wore rainbow-colored shorts and a matching tank top, her every movement radiating fire and fury. There was an energy about her - something sharp and commanding - that made everyone freeze.

“Who do you think you are?” She demanded, her voice clear and steady as she fixed her glare on the guy who had shoved the other girl.

He sneered at her, his lips curling into an arrogant smirk. “Mind your business, sweetheart.”

She took another step forward, unflinching. “Who do you think you are?” She repeated her tone like ice. “Who or what gave you permission - or the right - to hit her?”

The guy scoffed, waving her off dismissively. “Why don’t you walk away before you get hurt too?”

The crowd stirred, murmurs rippling through as everyone watched the scene unfold, unsure of what she would do next.

Her eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head, assessing him like he was nothing more than a stubborn fly buzzing in her space. “Hurt me?” She echoed, her voice softer but laced with something dangerous. “You never answered me. Who or what gave you permission?”

The guy smirked, clearly trying to act tough in front of the crowd. “I don’t need permission.”

“Oh, you don’t?” She said, her tone is mocking now. “Good. Because I sure as hell did not need permission for what’s about to happen next.”

Before he could respond, she was already moving…, moving faster than I thought possible, her foot connecting with his shin in a swift, precise kick. He stumbled back, swearing loudly.

The second guy lunged at her, but she sidestepped effortlessly, delivering two sharp slaps that echoed in the silence. In one fluid motion, she grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, forcing him to his knees.

“Let me go!” He yelped.

We are all silent, our shock palpable. This girl is smaller than these guys, yet…, yet…

Wow.

“Does that hurt?”

The guy squirmed, but she held firm, her strength seeming almost impossible for someone her size.

“Let it go,” a guy said, stepping forward and gently pulling her away. Another girl rushed to help the one who had been shoved.

Hazel finally released the guy, but not before glaring at both of them one last time. “Oh, and if you even think about getting revenge - on me, on her, on anyone - I will make sure you regret it. Got it?”

The guys nodded, and with that, she walked away, leaving the two guys nursing their bruised egos and the rest of us staring in stunned silence.

As the crowd began to disperse, Logan let out a low whistle. “That was badass. She definitely lives up to her reputation.”

I blinked, still watching her retreating figure. “You know her?”

Logan laughed. “Have you been living under a rock? That is Hazel. Everyone knows Hazel.”

“Well, sorry for not keeping up with the local gossip,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I have only been back in town for three months. Cut me some slack.”

“Well, now you know,” Logan said, grinning. “And trust me, you’ll never forget her.”

I did not respond. My attention was still fixed on her as she disappeared into the distance, her friends flanking her like bodyguards.

He was right. That was the day she made her first impression on me - fierce, fearless, beautiful, and utterly unforgettable.

***End of Flashback***

The memory fades, only to open the door to more - moments I had not thought about in a long time come rushing back like a flood.

Our first real meeting, where I finally managed to talk to her after watching her from afar for weeks.

I had planned it out, every word rehearsed, but the second she looked at me, all confidence flew out the window.

I stammered and fumbled over my words like an idiot. Thankfully, she found it endearing.

Our first date. Our first kiss. Our first arguments. Us crying over Roger, my dog that passed away. And then there were all the little moments in between - her laughter, the way her hand felt in mine, the way she always seemed to find joy in the smallest things.

So many memories trickle in, each one bittersweet.

Before I know it, I am standing by the window, staring out into the quiet night. My gaze drifts to the guest house, where her silhouette moves behind the curtain.

I hate how much I still miss her.

I hate how much I still want her.

I hate how much I wanted to believe her claim back then.

I hate how much I tell myself every day that I don’t love her when I know I am lying to myself.

It took everything I had - not to kiss her today at the beach.

I clench my jaw, forcing myself to turn away from the window. Wanting her does not matter. Missing her does not matter. Not when every part of my brain screams to keep my distance.

But my heart? It does not seem to care about logic or self-preservation. It keeps yearning for her, reaching for her despite still being bruised and broken, despite the pain that lingers like an uninvited guest.

It is like I am a prisoner to this feeling. To her.

It is maddening - this war between my head and my heart. It does not make sense. None of it does. And tonight, just like every other night, it feels like neither side is winning.