Page 7

August

S tanding before me is a surprise I didn’t see coming. Though I’m not sure why I’m so stunned, she is the owner’s granddaughter, after all.

Scarlett Carlisle.

In place of the cute college student I met all those years ago, is a put-together woman in a white blouse, charcoal pencil skirt, and stilettos.

Her once long and curly tresses have now been slicked back into a tight ponytail, though I’m glad to see she hasn’t cut the locks I have longed to wrap around my fist once more.

Snap the fuck out of it, man.

I let go of her hand, but I didn’t miss the way her features went from confused, to shocked, to furious within a matter of seconds.

She should’ve been a drama major with the way she’s able to make me feel like a fool even all these years later.

“Captain?” she questions as she smooths her skirt.

“Yes, this will be his eighth season wearing the C on his chest,” Joseph tells her.

“And you said his name was Bennett. Bennett Wilson,” she repeats, more to herself than to her grandfather. Her brows are pinched and she’s blinking rapidly, almost as if she’s putting the pieces of the puzzle together for the first time .

Wow, someone give her an Oscar, she’s knocking this performance out of the park. I’d give her a round of applause if it wouldn’t pique Joseph’s curiosity.

She’s snapped from her role-playing of an innocent woman, when her grandfather suggests, “Why don’t you take Bennett to your office and go over the schedule changes for the preseason we discussed.”

Her jaw falls open as she stares back at her grandfather in shock.

“That won’t be necessary, we can discuss any changes here, Joseph,” I tell him, but he just shakes his head.

“No, I insist. It will be good for Scar to get a feel for interacting with the players,” he replies.

Why does she need to interact with the players? And did he suggest she take me to her office? Since when did she get an office? Is she working for the team now?

For the past six years, Scarlett Carlisle has been a ghost. Well, more so for the past five years since her father tragically passed away. I sought her out at his memorial that the Wolverines put together to give my condolences, but she hadn’t shown up.

Without saying a word, Scarlett nods at her grandfather, grabs her laptop, and heads out the conference room door down the hallway that I assume leads to her new office.

I quickly say goodbye to Joseph before sauntering after her.

Once we’re inside her office, I quietly shut the door behind me, looking up to find her pacing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows as she rubs her temples with both hands.

“This can’t seriously be happening,” she murmurs to herself, still pacing and rubbing her temples.

When I clear my throat, her spine stiffens as she snaps to attention. She turns to face me, and I curse my stupid attraction to this woman when my chest squeezes in, what . . . yearning ? Fuck .

“Please have a seat,” she offers and gestures at a chair across from her desk. I take the offered seat, manspreading to get comfortable before leaning forward with my elbows on my thighs.

“Before we begin, I’d like to propose a reset. We can just leave the past in the past—forget that night ever happened, as far as I’m concerned.”

“And how exactly would you like me to do that? Find a hypnotist to erase the memories of you moaning my name and begging for me to fill your mouth with my cum?”

Her eyes widen in shock. “Th-at is not at all what I was requesting, Mr. Wilson.”

“Mr. Wilson. Miss Carlisle. Can we skip the bullshit formalities? I think we know each other too . . . intimately for that, yeah?”

“Why?” she asks, shaking her head in exasperation.

“Why what?”

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were that night? Or the next morning?”

“You’re a damn good actress, Scarlett, you know that?” I tell her as I stare at her pointedly. “Even sitting here across from you and knowing the truth, you’ve almost played me the fool.”

She huffs then lets out a low chuckle. “And what truth is it you think I know? Because I can assure you that up until ten minutes ago when my grandfather told me who you were, I had no clue that you were on the roster of my family’s professional hockey team.”

“How is that even possible?”

Sitting back in her chair, she crosses her arms and shoots me with a look I can’t quite read. “Be honest, did you know who I was the night we met? Or the night of the wedding?”

“You can’t be serious.” I scoff. “No, of course, I didn’t know.”

She raises a skeptical brow. “And why is that? ”

“Your father wasn’t exactly the sharing type. He didn’t parade you around team events or at games, so I had no clue that he had an older daughter.”

“Exactly.”

Exactly what? Instead of stating that, I crook a brow at her bullshit.

“My point exactly. You didn’t know he even had an oldest daughter because I was so far removed from anything to do with the team.

I won’t pretend to be a huge fan of the game.

I won’t sit here and lie to your face by telling you I’m an avid spectator of Wolverines games.

This was never the plan for me,” she admits.

“And what plan is that?” I ask warily because I think I know where this is headed.

“Well, I’m not entirely sure I’m at liberty to discuss that with you, Mr. Wilson.”

When I narrow my eyes at her, she sighs in defeat. “Bennett.”

“Why do I get the impression that you’re keeping something from me?

I don’t like secrets, Scar.” I grit my teeth when I realize her nickname slipped past my lips.

I take a deep breath and continue. “When it comes to my team, I know everything. So whether you tell me now or not, I’ll be clued in.

Might as well save yourself the trouble.

I hear keeping things bottled up doesn’t do anyone any good. ”

“Yeah, as tempted as I am to spill all my deepest secrets to a complete stranger, I’ll pass.

” Scarlett shuffles some papers around on her desk before finding the one she was looking for.

It is a calendar with a schedule of events and ice times on it.

“Now, let’s get back to the matter at hand.

We’ve discussed changing the preseason practice schedule to be able to incorporate a couple of team events.

One is an old tradition that we’d like to bring back—the team friends and family preseason skate.

The first few seasons as an organization, the Wolverines players and staff would bring their friends and families to the arena for a fun evening of skating and socializing as a way to get to know everyone. We’d like to bring this back.”

“And why is it that you need to get to know the players? Your grandfather had mentioned you needed to get a feel for interacting with the players. Are you joining the organization?” I press.

She sighs in defeat before bracing her hands on her desk. “Yes, I will be working alongside my grandfather this season.”

I sit back in my seat and bring my ankle up to rest on my opposite thigh, hoping I look calm and collected, when really I’m freaking the fuck out. The realization sinks in that I’ll be seeing Scarlett on a regular basis.

My chest does that pathetic clenching thing again and I curse it for being so weak.

Even if she didn’t realize who I was all those years ago, the feelings I had for her after only two encounters are worrisome.

She’s a distraction I can’t afford. Joseph said it himself, this will be my eighth season as a captain of this team, and I’ll be damned if it’s not the season I finally hoist the cup in the air.