Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 124494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
My pussy sobs at the rough sound of my name leaving his lips. With shaking hands, I type my address into the navigation system. I’ll be home in nine minutes, according to the digital voice.
Roman pulls into traffic. I wish I had a bottle of water. My mouth is so dry. Seven painfully long minutes into the ride, I crumble under the weight of my regret.
“Roman, I—”
“Do not tell me you’re sorry.” The steering wheel groans under his grip.
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re right. I don’t.”
He’s a brick wall of…something. But I can’t get a bead on his emotions. I sense his anger, but there’s more. Is he upset? Hurt? Frustrated? All of the above? “Are you going to tell management?”
His jaw tics. “I won’t ruin your career over a moment of weakness that happened three fucking years ago.”
I wish I felt relief, but the sharp bite of his words is a fresh wound. It’s dismissive. It cheapens the memories I’ve coveted the past three years. Taints them with bitterness.
“That’s what you’re worried about, right? Me ruining your career?”
“I didn’t think you’d remember me,” I whisper.
He scoffs and pulls up in front of my building. “You knew who I was the entire time.”
“Not at first. Not right away.” He’d looked so familiar. I couldn’t figure out why—until he said his name was Roman. Then I’d realized who I was sitting beside, watching a baseball game with. I’d wanted to play it cool.
“But you knew by the time I asked you out to dinner.” One hand stays on the wheel, gripping tightly. “And when I invited you up to my suite.” His gaze shifts my way. “When you got on your knees for me. You knew.”
This is why he’s angry? Or at least part of the reason. I knew who he was and didn’t tell him. And then I left without saying goodbye. “I’m sorry I didn’t—”
He cuts me off before I can get the rest of the sentence out. “Have a good night, Coach Forrester. I’ll see you on the ice tomorrow.”
I want to tell him I didn’t say anything because we’d already agreed not to talk about our jobs. I wanted to be me, and I wanted him to be a man I’d connected with. Genuinely. Authentically. But what will I accomplish by being honest?
“Thank you for the ride. See you tomorrow, Goalie.” I grab the takeout and exit his car. It isn’t until I’m inside the building and on the way up to my place that I realize I’m still wearing his jacket.
CHAPTER 7
ROMAN
Ishould 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.
Dallas
Let’s all play nice today.
Ash
No ice sprints please.
Flip
I said I was sorry.
Tristan
My legs are sorry.
Roman
Deal with your shit, so we don’t have to.
Dallas
Team dad is in a mood.
Roman
I would not fuck with team dad today, if you all know what’s good for you.
Dallas
Disappearing GIF
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.