11. Morgan

11

MORGAN

I stand next to the bus that brought the Ranchers and staff from the hotel to the arena, enjoying the cool night air and the quieter atmosphere. The arena had been bursting with cheers, boos, and screams throughout the entire game. Echoes of the sounds still ring in my ears, even in the quiet, as I recall game highlights.

Dane played incredibly tonight.

He flew over the ice with speed his equally athletic opponents struggled to keep up with, and his reaction times were flawless. Dane had three takeaways during the game— three. That’s amazing, considering his season average has been less than one takeaway a game.

I’d been confident Dane would adjust to his new meal plan, but I won’t lie; part of me worried that I screwed up by adjusting the star center’s diet so drastically. Other athletes had handled similar changes just fine, but people are different. Dane could have been the one client whose body needed more time to learn how to metabolize new foods, impacting his energy levels and performance for weeks.

Thank God that didn’t happen.

Instead, his diet and modified training, alone or in conjunction, have improved his play to career-high levels. If he can maintain tonight’s performance throughout the rest of the playoffs, the Ranchers have a real chance of winning the cup.

A few fans wander around, staying close to the metal fencing that blocks off the area between the building and the bus, hoping to catch sight of the Ranchers players when they walk to the bus. A group of beautiful women are huddled together in puffy white jackets and tight pants closest to the visiting exit.

I don’t recognize them. They could be girlfriends or wives of players, but I suspect they’re women hoping to catch the eye of a hockey star and enjoy his company for the night.

It's a good thing you’re fake-dating Dane.

If he wants our ruse to be believable, he can’t pursue one of those beautiful women.

My phone buzzes.

I look down and see a text from my oldest brother.

When are you getting here, pipsqueak?

I shake my head.

When I get there, sasquatch. Be patient.

Matthew replies with a middle finger emoji.

I return it with a hair-flip emoji.

Brothers…

I’ll catch a ride back to the hotel with the team before ordering a rideshare to my uncle’s vacation house on the outskirts of Los Alamos. My brothers and I visited my father’s brother and his family every summer when we were growing up. Now that we’re adults scheduling a trip together is more challenging.

When my brothers learned I’d be in town for the Ranchers game, they quickly adjusted their schedules and arranged a spontaneous trip to our favorite vacation spot without our parents.

I love my parents, but there hasn’t been one conversation since news of my relationship broke in which Mom and Dad haven’t pestered me with questions about it. My brothers are overprotective in general, but they aren’t interested in casually discussing my love life, which I appreciate.

“Hey, Morgan.”

I look up from the text, and my amused smile drops when I register who’s walking towards me from the visiting players’ exit.

“Aaron.”

My ex saunters towards me with a swagger I used to think conveyed confidence. Now, all I see is cockiness.

I was blind to so many of his faults during our three-year relationship, but now that I’ve had distance from his belittling presence and time to process all the fucked up things he said and did, I will never be deceived by someone like him again.

“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing.”

It’s cold, but it’s far from freezing.

“I’m fine.” I cross my arms in front of my chest. “Is the team about to come out?” I look to the still-closed doors, silently begging someone to come out and save me from my ex’s company.

“No idea.”

“Well, the driver isn’t on the bus yet.” I hike a thumb over my shoulder at the empty bus. “You might want to wait inside.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind waiting here.”

I frown when he moves to lean against the side of the black bus, crossing his ankles and tucking his hands into his pockets for warmth.

I don’t know what Aaron is playing at, but I refuse to let him get to me. I faltered when I first ran into him at the Rancher’s facility, but that was because I was caught off guard. Now, the surprise has worn off, and I’m more than capable of enduring his annoying presence.

“So, how long have you been working for the Ranchers?”

My nostrils flare. Is he really trying to make small talk?

I debate saying it’s none of his business, but maturity overrides the instinctual pettiness. “Less than a year.”

I hope my short reply and lack of a follow-up question will deter him from continuing this conversation. I’m not so lucky.

“I bet your parents are proud.”

“Mmhmm.” Once again, I look at the exit. The doors remain closed. My eyes travel to the group of beautiful women. They’re looking in my direction. Well, not my direction.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aaron grinning at the group of women. They giggle amongst themselves when he gives them a little wave.

I roll my eyes.

I know exactly what those women are thinking. I feel zero attraction to Aaron, but objectively, he’s not bad-looking. He’s also in shape thanks to working as a trainer for a living. Add to that the fact he wears Ranchers official gear, and I bet the women are wondering if he’s a bench player on the team. They’re thinking they might have caught the attention of a player.

They’re going to be disappointed when they learn he’s a trainer.

I smirk.

“Is something funny?” Aaron’s icy tone draws my attention away from the preening women. His expression is just as cold.

His eyes narrow when my smirk remains firmly in place. “Not at all.”

We both know that’s not true. Aaron’s jaw clenches. Then, in a blink, his anger is replaced with a smugness that puts me on edge.

“So, was it nepotism that got you your job or the fact you spread your legs for the team’s star player?”

The insult rolls off my back, but the shock still leaves me at a loss for words.

“What the fuck did you just say to her?”

My head whips to the side. Dane stands at the back of the bus, five feet away. I glance at the visitor’s exit. The doors remain closed. Where did he come from?

“Are you deaf?” Dane closes the distance between us. His gaze is locked on the athletic trainer, who is as white as a sheet. “What the fuck did you just say to Morgan?”

“N-nothing, man.” Aaron rolls his shoulders back and straightens his spine. The effect is minimal. The six-five center towers over him. “It was just a joke.”

“It didn’t sound like a fucking joke.” Dane’s body shakes with anger.

“It’s Dane Larson!” Excitement floats in the air as the crowd of fans waiting to see a Rancher player notice his presence.

Some rush forward with Ranchers’ memorabilia, ignoring the metal fence meant to keep them back, to ask for an autograph. There’s no security out here to enforce the barrier. I’m sure that will change when the rest of the team leaves the building.

The fans are the only thing that keeps Dane from doing something idiotic, like punching my ex in the face.

It would be hot to see, though…

I place a hand on Dane’s arm. He looks down at me for the first time since arriving. The angry heat in his eyes lessens when he meets my gaze.

“It’s okay,” I murmur. “Just forget it.”

His nostrils flare.

A kid and his dad appear next to us. I nudge Dane towards them. He swallows and turns with a forced smile to say hello, then signs the kid’s Ranchers hat. Another group of fans comes up to congratulate him on a great game and asks him to sign their jerseys.

The women don’t come over. I think my presence deters them.

Good.

For some reason, Aaron doesn’t take the opportunity Dane’s distraction affords him to escape. Instead, my ex stays right where he is. I feel his stare, but I ignore it.

Unfortunately, he decides to use the fact we’re around other people to force me into conversation. “So, are you going to your uncle’s place while you’re in town?”

I pretend I don’t hear him.

He isn’t so easily deterred. “I saw that Miles and Mason are in town from their Instagram,” he says, naming my twin brothers. I know him well enough to know what he’s doing.

Aaron is trying to make the point that we have history. That he knows my family—that he still has a connection to them. And me.

He isn’t aware it makes him look like the deluded ex he is.

“Are you going to see them?” he asks when I don’t respond.

I grit my teeth and grind out, “Yes.”

“Tell them I say hi.”

Not a chance.

“I’ll be sure to tell them,” Dane joins our conversation.

My eyes snap up to his. He shoots me a look that says, Go with it.

“You’re going to the ranch?” Disbelief waring with resentment drip from Aaron’s words.

I’d forgotten how much Aaron wanted to visit the ranch. When we were dating, he often mentioned that going on a trip together would be a good opportunity for him to bond with my brothers.

I gave in to his incessant begging and asked Matthew, Miles, and Mason if they’d be willing to take my boyfriend on a trip.

Matthew had laughed while the twins were less tactful with resounding, “Fuck nos.”

None of my brothers liked Aaron from the get-go. They did a decent job keeping their opinion to themselves when we were dating. I credit Mom for their self-control. I’m sure she talked to them about what to say and what not to say about my arrogant boyfriend.

The moment we broke up, though, my brothers laid all their cards on the table. They hated Aaron.

Miles even went so far as to say that if I was dumb enough to try to marry the guy, he planned an elaborate kidnapping scheme to save me from walking down the aisle and tying my life to the prick. Ever the loyal younger twin, Mason would have no choice but to help him implement the plan. Matthew, as a cop, would keep his hands clean. But he had some helpful tips on what not to do if a person wanted to hold an unwilling bride hostage until she came to her senses.

That conversation still makes me smile.

Which is the wrong thing to do when Aaron stares at me with a look of betrayal.

My temper flares.

How dare he look at me like that.

I owe him nothing.

“Yeah, I am.” Dane wraps an arm over my shoulder, tucking me against his body. “Right, babe?”

“Right.” I smother the anger burning in my chest. I don’t want to start a fight with Aaron. He’s not worth it.

“Don’t you have to get back to Dallas?” Aaron asks Dane. “To prep for the next game?”

“If you’d bothered to stick around and help Lehman finish his cool down, you would’ve heard Coach tell the team we have three days off.” Dane scowls. “I was wondering where you ran off to, but it seems you were trying to catch my girl alone.”

“That’s not what I?—”

“I don’t give a fuck about what excuse you’re going to try and use,” Dane lowers his voice so it doesn’t travel to listening ears, but the words are clear for Aaron and me to hear. “I don’t trust you, Burns. Stay away from Morgan, or you and I will have problems. Do you understand?”

Sweet baby Jesus… that is hot.

Aaron balks.

I can see he wants to argue, but the arena doors open, and the rest of the team and staff begin walking toward us.

“Do you understand,” Dane growls.

Aaron’s eyes flash. He grits his teeth. “I understand.”

He walks away with an angry scowl twisting his features, and I have the uneasy feeling that things with my ex are only going to get worse.