If You Love Me: Chapter 7

I should not have offered to drive Lexi home. Or opened the fucking can of worms by talking about the past.

I’m always stable. Steady. I don’t lose control. I’ve spent the past twenty years focused on my career and making sure my daughter was raised in a loving home. There was no room for anyone who might upset the careful balance.

Except Lexi.

Every time I’m around her, my control slips a little more.

It was like that even when we spent the weekend together. I couldn’t get enough of her—the way her skin felt under my hands, the sound of my name on her lips when I made her come, the way she fulfilled every depraved fantasy I’d ever had.

But it was so much more than that.

And now.

Now.

She’s part of my every day.

And seeing her on the ice, learning my teammates, sharing her passion for the sport that’s been my second love for two decades—is pushing me to the edge. I can’t even deal when one of the guys smiles at her. I’m losing my damn mind.

I’m struggling most with knowing she knew who I was. Probably even understood the potential risk she was taking when she agreed to dinner. Ending up in bed with a player when her goal was to coach hockey probably hadn’t been on her list of dicey choices. Maybe she didn’t even realize this was a path she’d even end up on. But she took the chance. And then she ran out without saying goodbye. And what the fuck does that mean? How do I deal with that revelation? Especially now, when I can’t have her.

I pocket my phone. I don’t have the bandwidth for ribbing or being anything but a salty asshole this morning. And my sour mood turns downright bitter when I enter the locker room and find my jacket in my cubby. Folded exactly how I like it. Because she paid attention to the small details during our weekend together. Worse? It’s freshly washed and smells like her.

Everyone gives me a wide berth as I change into my goalie gear. I need to compartmentalize. Keep my shit together. Not take my frustration out on my teammates.

This should be like exposure therapy. Over time, the effect Lexi has on me should dissipate. My body should calm the hell down.

Forrester is on the ice with Thomas and Boxer, clipboard in hand, hair pulled up in a high ponytail. Vander Zee skates next to her. Boxer has been with the team as long as I have, and has been working with me and Ryker while we prepare him to take over next year. The coaches have their heads together as we start warming up.

They break apart and Coach Forrester skates over, expression impassive. How she manages to maintain professionalism when I’m over here trying to control my hormones is a damn wonder.

“Grace and Palaniappa, bring it in, please.” She motions for them to join us.

“Where’s Boxer going?” I tip my chin toward the other net.

“Working with Ryker because he needs the attention, and you’re a veteran. Your knowledge and skill set will be better utilized with the newest member of our team. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Palaniappa taps his stick on the ice. “Coach makes a good point.”

“What’s your greatest strength on the ice, Grace?” Lexi asks. “Apart from your willingness to end up in the penalty box to save a shot from reaching the goalie.”

“Reading plays and predicting outcomes,” he says.

“And your weakness?”

Grace taps his stick on the ice. “Letting my emotions rule me.”

“Connor Grace, get to know Roman Hammerstein and Ashish Palaniappa. There is no one more controlled or more effective in the net and no defensive player in the league who has done a better job of helping our goalie protect the net. If anyone can teach you how to harness your emotions so you stay out of the penalty box and save your goalie from being overtaxed, it’s these two.” She skates backwards and bows, brow arched in challenge. “I dare you to prove me wrong.”

“Goddamn she’s intense, isn’t she?” Palaniappa muses. It’s not an insult, but pure admiration.

“Yeah.” It’s a smart strategy, appealing to our competitive nature and pushing Grace to work with us. And she’s sexy as hell when she owns her role.

“Sorry you’re stuck with me.” Grace rolls his head on his shoulders.

“Just because you and Madden have issues to work out doesn’t mean the rest of the team does, too. Let’s run some drills.” I pull my mask down.

Palaniappa and I work with Grace throughout the warm-up. He’s an excellent player and knows how to handle the puck. I just wish he and Madden could figure their shit out.

Eventually, it’s time to scrimmage. The puck drops, and the boys fight for possession. Bright snags it and heads down the ice, skillfully skirting players, moving with purpose as Grace gets into position, ready to enforce. And Madden, who apparently doesn’t know what position he’s playing today, gets in the way. He nearly trips Grace, and the two scuffle, their sticks inches from my face. In the distraction, the puck slides by my skate.

I shove Madden out of my space. “This isn’t the fucking Madden show. Look where you are,” I snap. “I already have two enforcers, I don’t need another one. There’s a whole team out there who wouldn’t mind some practice.” My words surprise even me. That isn’t something I do. I’m always cool. Composed. Level.

Madden holds up both hands. “Whoa, I was just trying to get the puck to the other end of the rink.”

The whistle blows, and Coach Forrester skates over. “Do we have a problem?”

“Everything’s fine. Let’s just play some hockey.” I’m rattled by my inability to keep my shit together.

“You sure don’t seem fine, Goalie.” She motions between Grace and Madden. “Do you two want to air your grievances? Get whatever is eating at you off your chest so you can start learning how to work together.”

“We’re good.” Madden focuses on the ice.

Grace dips his chin in agreement, face heated with embarrassment.

Lexi’s nostrils flare. “Keep it up and there are more ice sprints in your future.”

Coach Vander Zee skates over, glancing between Madden and Grace. “Do we have a problem, Coach Forrester?”

“No, sir,” Grace says.

“All good here.” Madden dips his chin.

‘The three of us are having a chat after practice.” Lexi motions between Grace and Madden.

Vander Zee gives her an approving nod. I want to knock his teeth out, which is completely irrational since he’s just doing his job and he’s a happily married man.

The rest of practice is an exercise in frustration. I can’t protect my own net for shit, and Grace is a damn blessing with the way he deflects shots. He’s a mouthy prick, but he’s good at his job.

After practice, I pick up lunch and bring it back to the office so I can spend some time with my not-so-little girl.

Vander Zee pokes his head out as I pass. “Hey, Roman, you have a minute?”

“I’m sor⁠—”

He holds up a hand. “We all have off days. This isn’t about that.”

I tuck a hand in my pocket. “Okay.”

“Come in for a second.” He motions me into his office.

“I’m having lunch with Peggy.” I hold up the takeout bag.

“That’s great. This won’t take long.”

I reluctantly follow him in, already certain I won’t like whatever is coming my way.

Vander Zee leans against the edge of his desk. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Shoot.” I expect to spend more time with Grace, like I did today.

“It would be great if you could sit down with Alexandria and give her some insight on how to deal with the team from a player perspective.”

One-on-one time with Lexi is the last thing I need. Strategizing, talking hockey and plays sounds like a bad idea. As if the practice boners aren’t bad enough, sitting in an office with her, immersed in her scent, getting to know her better on a professional level, plus all the fucking memories? No thanks. “Can’t anyone else do it? What about Dallas? Or Hollis even?”

“Dallas doesn’t have the experience you do. And Hollis is pretty singularly focused these days.” Vander Zee crosses his arms. “Are you okay? I know this is your last season, and you must be having feelings about that, but you’re…not yourself.”

I run a hand through my hair. No, I’m not okay. Our new assistant coach is all I can think about these days. And I hate that I’m lying to everyone who matters. “I’ve just got a lot going on, personally and professionally.”

“I get it. But maybe helping Alexandria understand the guys she’s working with will alleviate some of the professional issues,” he urges. “I know bringing Grace on has been tough, but with you retiring and Ryker coming in to take your place, we need a strong defense. Aside from the hiccup with Madden this morning, things went well.”

For Grace, maybe, not for me. But I get his point. Even though this team is tight, there’s been a lot of change over the past couple of years. I can handle an hour.

“All right. I’ll sit down with her. But I’m having lunch with Peggy first.”

“Of course. I appreciate it.” He taps on his desk. “Hammer’s doing great, by the way.”

“She’s really embracing the job.” Initially I wanted her to spread her wings, explore another industry. But this is her passion, and working with this team is her happy place.

“She is, and she has a great career ahead of her.” Vander Zee claps me on the shoulder. “Thanks for agreeing to sit down with Alexandria. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“No problem, Coach.” A lobotomy to remove the memories of that weekend would go a long way toward making this season manageable.