Page 14

Blair

The training center was quiet for once, players choosing workout times on their own schedule during the week before the global series. Many of the staff chose to work from home as they coordinated the logistics of sending a hockey team overseas for two days. I’d already drafted up themed posts for most of the guys heading over to Helsinki, but the walls of my apartment had been closing in on me, and I found the coldness of the rink comforting when my mind felt ready to burn out.

I had revisited Cian’s speech so many times in my head, it felt like some demonic spell that would open a rift in the earth for me to fall down.

“I come in peace.” The gentle feminine voice was a surprise. Oscar Cavanaugh’s wife, Mia, was stunningly gorgeous, even in a sweater and jeans. Her dark hair was swept up in a simple ponytail, and I felt a moment of envy for how straight and silky it looked as it swung behind her.

“What are you doing here?”

“I brought coffee. Want some?” She held out a cup displaying the Wild Brew logo on the side.

“I asked the barista what your order was,” she admitted, her cheeks coloring a soft pink.

“Why does this feel like a bribe?”

“Because it sort of is?” She dropped into the seat beside me, turning her body to face me.

“I may be a trained therapist, but I’m also from a fucked-up family. I specialize in that shit. So I’m here as a friend, asking if you’d like to talk.”

Her features were relaxed, no signs of deceit, or any hint she was fishing for information to use against me. That didn’t mean…

“Cian sent you.”

“I offered.”

“Why?”

Mia sighed and picked at the lid of her own coffee. Down on the practice rink, the Zamboni roared to life as the maintenance crew re-leveled the ice.

“I don’t have a lot of friends. Oscar is the extrovert out of the two of us. Similar to Cian.” She shot me a quick look. “When Oscar first came into my life, I thought I was broken beyond repair. I just didn’t believe anyone could or should love me. Oscar was… well… you’ve met him. He doesn’t really understand the word no, unless you’re talking consent. Anyway, I almost let my insecurities destroy the best thing that ever happened to me. Cian was one of the people who helped me believe I deserved this life Oscar and I have built together. So why did I volunteer to come? I guess I’m passing on the good karma. I would like to get to know you, because you seem like someone worth knowing. And I’m not just saying that for Cian’s sake. You guys have to work out your stuff between you. But if you ever want to talk, I’m here.” She glanced up and away again, then stood, clapping her hands.

“I’m sure you are incredibly busy, so I’ll let you get back to it. Oscar can give you my number if you ever want to use it.” Her small smile told me she hoped I would.

“Thank you,” I choked out as she turned to walk away.

“We all need someone, Blair. Life is pretty dull when we hide behind our walls all alone.” With another nod, she strode down the aisle of chairs and headed for the exit.

I turned back to my computer to find the screen had gone black, and when I glanced up, Mia was gone.

Feeling like some Touched by an Angel shit had just gone down, I packed up my belongings and headed for Dante’s office. She’d had a couple of small PR issues come up and had promised to walk me through how she’d handled them.

“How’s your day going?” she asked as I stepped into her perfectly appointed office. I’d never done much with my own space because I preferred to sit in the stands, closer to the action and the players in case I needed to talk to them while I worked. Dante’s office looked like an upscale law firm that would make grown men cry if they didn’t fall in line.

“A little weird but productive. How’s yours?”

With pleasantries exchanged, we settled in and got to work, running through the media plan, and how she instructed the players to proceed in each of the cases she’d handled.

As we were wrapping up the final case study, she paused, an odd look on her face.

“Can I ask you something that might be a little personal?”

Dante was straight forward, ball busting, and exactly who you wanted when shit hit the fan.

She rarely asked permission, and as long as I’d known her, we’d never spoken about personal things.

“Sure. Shoot.”

“Is something going on between you and O’Leary?”

Her face was carefully blank, giving nothing away.

“What makes you think that?” I asked in lieu of an answer. What could I say? He might like me, or he could be setting up to break me.

“He spent the night in your hotel room in Washington.”

I hid my surprise, wondering why she was bringing it up now.

“Nothing happened.” I could have explained the situation more, but it felt like a betrayal to tell her he was wasted and vulnerable. The team had a strict code of behavior for away games, and getting pass-out drunk was definitely a no-no.

“You were photographed leaving a diner together two days ago.”

Why would I have been…? Right. I wouldn’t. But Cian would.

“We went for lunch after doing some volunteer work. We’re… friends.” I almost choked on the word.

Dante nodded, keen eyes studying me like I was another problem to solve. Maybe I was.

“Take the rest of the day off. Keep off social media, and when the nothing turns into something , for the love of God, let me know first. Okay?”

“You really think someone like him would look twice at someone like me?” I asked, voicing the heart of my insecurity. He was too pretty. Too talented. Too… him. Why was he focused on me?

She sighed. “He’d be lucky to have you, Blair. Take it from someone who has already failed at the marriage thing. Compatibility is critical in a relationship, and it has nothing to do with looks. It has everything to do with how they make you feel. O’Leary looks for you when he enters the room. I’ve seen it. So whatever’s going on, decide how you feel about it. Make your decision, or don’t, but have all the information.”

Her lips quirked in an empathic smile before she clapped her hands and stood. With firm strokes, she brushed down her jacket, as though straightening herself out of the emotional moment.

“I’m thinking of finding a therapist,” I blurted. The idea was as much of a surprise to me as it was to her. But I’d heard one too many people I respected tell me very similar things over the last couple of days. If I wanted to get out of my own way, and maybe find a way to be happy, I had some work to do.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

“It won’t affect my work.”

“I know.”

I picked at my nail, wondering if I should say the next part.

“I like him. Cian.”

She huffed a laugh and squeezed my arm on her way to the door.

“I know.”

“Is there anything you don’t know?” I asked.

She paused in the doorway, one heel raised. Her bloodred fingernail tapped against the wooden frame.

“Whether spring will arrive early this year. I’m no groundhog.”

I laughed as Dante strutted her Pennsylvanian ass out of the office, leaving me to my thoughts.

Nope. Not doing that.

Regardless of what Dante told me, I had work to do.

A quick side quest to the Wild Bean, and a short drive later, I pulled into the parking lot of my building and found a familiar truck parked in my usual spot.

I gathered my caffeine and my courage and found Cian sitting on the front stoop of my building.

“I thought you were ignoring me again, but you were at the training center,” he said by way of greeting.

“Mia found me there just fine.”

He sighed and stood with a wince. “Of course she did. She refused to give me an update. Said I could come grovel under my own steam.”

I stepped around him to unlock the entry, briefly considering shutting the door in his face, but it was time to be an adult and not let the intrusive thoughts win.

“So you’re here to grovel?” I asked, holding the door wide as he retrieved a takeout bag from the step he’d been sitting on.

“Apology sushi?”

“Come up.”

His footsteps were loud in the quiet of the stairwell as we made our way up to my apartment. He stood patiently as I opened the door, and waited for me to wave him inside. For someone who kept turning up in my life, he certainly acted like he had manners.

Heading straight for the kitchen, he cleared a space on the counter and began to unpack an unholy amount of sushi.

“Were you expecting your whole team to show up here?”

“I was expecting you to be in a worse mood, honestly. It’s always better to be overprepared.”

“Were you planning on standing in the hall and tossing nori rolls at me until I calmed down?”

He snorted, flicking his gaze up to mine before returning to his unpacking.

“Something like that.”

He moved around my kitchen like he belonged there. The illusion was broken only when he had to ask which cupboard held glasses and which dishes.

“So…” he said as we sat on the sofa with our food. “Have you been on social media today?”

His tone was curious, but he perched on the edge of his seat, body tense.

“No… actually, Dante told me to stay off it.”

Now he sat back, stretching his arm along the back of the sofa and crossing his ankles in front of him.

“Good. That’s good. How’s your sushi?”

I took a big bite and gave him a rice filled grin.

What could be trending that they didn’t want me to see? The only answers I could come up with were either a worldwide coffee shortage, or… me.

While Cian worked his chopsticks like a pro, picking up pieces of nigiri and popping them in his mouth like we were in an authentic restaurant, I slid my phone out of my pocket and fired up my social media page. The first photo on the feed was of Cian and me, but before I could read any comments, my phone disappeared from my hand.

“Nope. You do not need to read that.”

“Cian.” I held my hand out, giving him my best don’t fuck with me face.

“Sorry, babe. I’m doing this for your own good.”

“Weren’t you mad at me, like, yesterday? You should be happy that karma is coming for me.”

The scowl he turned on me was the same expression he wore when he first hit the ice for a game he didn’t know whether they would win. Determination to beat the odds.

“Never. I was mad you don’t trust me to tell you the truth. Doesn’t mean you need to read the inside thoughts these trolls thought everyone should have access to.”

So I was right. Someone, somewhere had caught us on our day out and decided to let the world know we don’t belong together. Like I couldn’t have told them that.

“Give me the phone. It’s better to deal with these things head-on.”

He stretched his arm a little further from me. “Nuh-uh. Dante told you to stay off it. I’m helping.”

“Cian.” I grabbed his arm, trying to pull his hand close enough to get my cell back. God, he was strong. Those muscles didn’t move an inch as I kneeled up and tried to find more leverage.

Nope.

Well, if I couldn’t bring it to me, I’d go to it. I crawled across his lap as I caught a hold on his hand and tried to pry the device from his fingers.

“Even your freaking fingers are strong! How?!”

Cian choked out a strangled laugh. The noise pulled me from my quest and I realized the position I’d put myself in. My breasts were all but pressed into his face as I’d stretched for his hand. My knees were on either side of his hips and beneath me he was hard.

“Oops,” I muttered, sitting back so we were almost nose to nose.

“I don’t mind.” His smile was tight.

“Please give me my phone.”

Those beautiful olive eyes flicked over my face, assessing. He really did think he was protecting me from whatever comments were on the photo. The fact was I was a big girl, and I had to be able to read criticism and not react to it if I wanted to continue to work in this field. If I took over from Dante at the end of the season, would I be able to help athletes if I was worried some internet troll was going to hurt my feelings?

Slowly, his arm dropped. His lips screwed tight as he handed the device to me, but when I made a move to get off him, he gripped my thighs in those ridiculously strong hands.

“If you’re reading that shit, you’re not going anywhere.”

I gave him a look that I hope he interpreted as you’re being ridiculous and reopened the page.

Beauty and the beast. The delicious Cian O’Leary out with some dog in downtown Austin .

The picture was of us beside his truck, standing a lot closer together than I noticed at the time.

The comments section was vicious.

@olearysfuturebeau - maybe he’s doing some kind of make a wish for the terminally ugly

@hockey_fan23 - Beauty and the beast, lol. Definitely a butterface.

@puckbunny4lyf - No, hear me out. She’s auditioning for the dour wife so he can go out and f**k bunnies without the bad PR

@aces4thechampionship - O’Leary! Blink twice if you need help!

The comments went on and on. Variations of the same theme. Too ugly for a hockey player. Maybe he has weird kinks and she has a beard. Maybe he’s being held hostage.

Some were so absurd they were funny.

“I don’t give a fuck what they say, but it matters if it screws up any remaining chance I had with you.”

I tossed my phone on the coffee table behind me.

“I couldn’t care less what a bunch of keyboard warriors have to say about me. I tell myself worse things every day. That’s child’s play.” I waved my hand in the direction of my phone and shrugged.

“That makes me really sad.”

“What?”

His grip tightened on my thighs, then he rubbed his palms over them, like he needed to know I was solid on top of him.

“I hate the thought of you being mean to yourself. Let alone worse than the shit those assholes said. You’re the only one I would have wanted to share that day with, so fuck anyone who says different.”

I shifted in his lap, caught between discomfort at speaking so openly about my self-hate, and an unexpected gratitude that Cian would care enough to make sure I was all right after reading that shit. I’d been incredibly unfair with all the assumptions I’d made about him, pretty much since day one. He was kind, caring, and one of the most genuine people I’d ever met.

“So about this friend thing,” I said.

He blinked, visibly changing gears in his mind.

“What about it?”

“Well, what would it involve?”

His mouth twitched, eyes sparkling as he slid his hands a little higher on my thighs.

“Surprise outings, meals together, unexpected drop-ins… you know. The usual friend things.”

It was my turn to blink.

“You already do all of that.”

I hadn’t once invited him to spend time with me. He just turned up and dragged me into whatever he’d decided we were doing. Secretly, I loved it.

“That’s because we’re already friends. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

The laugh that burst out of me was warm and light, clearing pockets of darkness in me that had curdled over the years.

“Okay,” I said, biting my lip to give me courage, “but can we talk about a benefit package?”

The groan that rumbled out of his chest was half feral as he palmed my ass and dragged me forward until I was perched over a very large bulge in his jeans.

“Fuck, yes. Please.”

This time, I took control, wrapping my hands around his face and lowering my smiling lips to his. He tasted like soy sauce as I licked into his mouth, teasing him with my tongue. His fingers curled against my ass, and in response, I rocked my hips over his erection.

Fuck the haters.

Fuck my family.

Fuck my self-loathing.

I wanted Cian O’Leary, and while he wanted me, he could damn well have me.

His hands wandered up my back, growing bolder with each pass until they slid beneath my shirt and palmed my breasts. I broke away from him with a curse, whipping off my shirt and tugging at the hem of his, eager to do some exploring of my own.