Chapter 37

Thirty-Seven

Rowan

"This is our first preseason game. We squash this now." Tweetie, being one of the eldest on the team and a captain, tries to tell Conor and me what to do.

"I'm more than willing, but he's the one holding the grudge." I nod at Conor.

"You're sleeping with my sister."

"I'm dating your sister."

He glares and sucks in a deep breath. "You do your thing, I'll do mine."

"Fine."

"Shit, guys, we need to come together as a team. This is our year, and we'll never get there if you two don't stop coming at each other."

Conor steps closer to me. "Tell him to stop ‘dating' my sister." He puts the word dating in air quotes.

I step closer to him, the two of us now less than a foot apart. "Tell him to get over it. I'm not going to hurt her."

"Tell him history says he's going to break her heart."

I laugh. "Tell him she's different."

The fuck if I'm going to tell him I love her. I was his best friend once. He should trust me. I've always been there for him.

Conor's jaw clenches. "Tell him if he was my friend, he would've let her go."

"Fuck this." I turn to walk away, but Tweetie pulls me back. "Tell him I'm with his sister and to deal with it because that's never. Going. To. Change."

Tweetie grunts. "Damn it, guys. Coach is gonna think I'm a horrible captain if I can't get you two to figure this out."

I appreciate Tweetie trying. I'm not sure why Conor can't get over the fact that I'm dating Kyleigh.

She told me she tried to call him, but he won't pick up her calls. Then she apparently left a voicemail cursing at him for ruining my pretty face. I shook my head at her and couldn't fight the smile. She's really something.

I'm about to turn and leave when Coach Buford calls me into his office.

"Shut the door," he says.

Fuck, don't tell me I just got traded or some shit. I'm not even sure what would happen with Kyleigh.

"Sit down." His furry gray eyebrows scrunch. "Word is you and Nilsen aren't getting along. I don't like dissension in my locker room."

"Why isn't he in here?" My lips press into a thin line.

"Because he's not the one dipping his dick where he shouldn't be."

I huff. "I don't remember signing a contract about who I can and can't date."

He stares at me long and hard, but I don't back down. "I've been a coach a long time. Probably should've retired years ago. Wife would've been happy if I had. But I keep coming back because I want to make something of this team. I know this is our year. We're set up for success. But if there's a fracture in the team, our success will turn to failure. Is she really worth it?"

"She is." More worth it than he can imagine. "How long have you been married, sir?"

"Too long…" He lets out a long breath.

"And I assume she's the love of your life."

"My only real love."

"Well, that's how I feel about Kyleigh. I wish she wasn't Conor's sister, but I can't do anything about that. She's my only real love. A once-in-a-lifetime love."

He taps his pen on the table and gives me a long, drawn-out stare. "You damn hockey players, you're so stubborn." He stares at the ceiling for a beat. "Fine. I'll give this a little leeway, but the minute it starts to affect this team, we're going to have a long sit-down. Go." He points at the door.

I head back into the locker room without saying anything to anyone. Conor glances at me but quickly shifts his gaze in the other direction.

I can't say it doesn't hurt. I can't say that I don't want him to see us together. That maybe he'd get on our side if he can see how much she means to me. That I'm not in this for her tits and ass, but her heart. The tits and ass are definitely a bonus though.

I dress and hear my phone vibrate in my bag.

Good luck tonight.

I see that she changed her name in my phone to KY-leigh. Little smartass.

Thanks. You offering any incentives to do well tonight?

How about a blow job for every goal?

That's definitely an incentive.

What can I say? I'm a pretty awesome girlfriend.

The best.

I can't wait to watch you on the ice, knowing that you're mine, and you're taking me to bed tonight.

Are you trying to make me go out there with a hard-on?

No. I don't want those puck bunnies to see what they're missing.

Henry claps me on the shoulder. "Time to go, man."

I nod.

Gotta go. I'll be looking for you. You're in the suite, right?

Hell no. I'm front and center. I want to watch my man up close.

My nervousness kicks up a level.

Love you.

Oh, and my dad's beside me. Eek. Love you!

Hell, the father of the woman I love is sitting in the stands while his son hates my guts. This should be fun.

We get on the ice, and we're first line.

Ten seconds into the game, I've got the puck, skating toward the goal. I pass it to Tweetie, and he shoots it to Henry. I skate behind the goal, Henry passes it to me, and I manage to get it past the goalie, the red buzzer lighting up.

I do my celly, and Tweetie and Henry celebrate with me.

I take off my glove, skating by Kyleigh and placing one finger up in the air. She laughs, her head rocking back and exposing her neck. She's wearing a Falcons sweatshirt, which is great, but I really want to see her in my jersey. The man next to her is tall, with a thin frame and salt-and-pepper hair. I recognize him from all the parents' weekends during college and the times he and his wife came to our games. I'm going to have to introduce myself to him tonight with the hopes that Conor hasn't shit-talked me too much.

"Stop eyeing her. You'll make it worse," Tweetie says under his breath.

"I'll lick the fucking glass just to piss him off."

Tweetie blows out a breath. "One of you has to be the adult here."

We both get off the ice, letting another line come on. At least Conor is on the ice the entire game tonight, so I don't have to speak to him on the bench.

We end up winning two to zero.

Conor leaves immediately after showering, and by the time I get outside the locker room, Kyleigh is standing by herself.

"Dad went with Conor, but he said to tell you congratulations, he loved seeing you play."

I wish I could have met Mr. Nilsen as Kyleigh's boyfriend, but I guess next time. Right now, I just want to get us home. "You gonna come home with me?"

"Is that even a question?" She walks in front of me, and I admire her ass in her tight jeans. "Technically, I owe you one, right?" She lifts her hand with her pointer finger extending in the air.

I walk up to her side and smack her ass, grabbing it right after. "That's right, and I can't wait to collect."

"Fuck, I like this sex after the adrenaline of a game." Her back falls to the mattress and she blows out a huge breath.

The pink blush coats her soft skin, and it makes me want to take her again.

I go to the bathroom to dispose of the condom, and she gets off the bed. When I return, she's got one of my T-shirts on and the pizza sits in the middle of my bed.

"I hope you're not like one of those guys who doesn't eat in bed because if you are, I might have second thoughts about us." She takes a big bite of the pizza in her hand.

I grab some shorts and go into the kitchen before returning with two waters. "You can do whatever you want in my bed." I sit on the edge and take a piece of pizza myself.

"Oh, I feel so special."

"You are." I lean forward and wait for her to kiss me.

We eat our pizza and drink our water, filling it with talks about my one goal. Henry got the other one.

"I have a question, and if I'm overstepping, please tell me." She stares at her pizza instead of me.

Shit, this is serious. "What?"

"You never mention your mom…"

Like my father, my mother isn't something I bring up a lot because of the pain it causes me.

"She died right after I graduated from college. About a month after."

"Oh, Rowan, I'm so sorry."

I drop the piece of pizza I'm eating in the box. "You deserve to know about my childhood." I broach the subject I usually avoid.

"Not if you don't want me to."

"I want you to know. It's just that I've never really talked to anyone about it. Probably should've gone to therapy at some point in my life." I take a sip of my water. "Like I said, my dad was an alcoholic and an abuser. He would hit my mom, intimidate her, verbally abuse her. Verbally abuse me too. He got sick when I was in the sixth grade but continued to drink. Eventually, his organs gave out, and he died in a hospital with my mom still by his side."

She slides closer, putting her arm around me and her head on my shoulder.

"I was happy he was dead. It meant he couldn't hurt her anymore. Because she never would've left him. He made us lose our house. The sheriff showed up one day to evict us because he'd been out of work for a year and was lying to my mom about paying the mortgage. He beat her so bad one night in a drunken rage that her friend had to take her to the hospital. She lied and said she tripped over one of my toys, but I'm sure they knew. Her other bruises that were half healed revealed her lie for her."

She grips me tighter. I hate telling her all this shit. I know she grew up in a household where she felt safe, and I don't relish exposing her to anything different. When she went to sleep at night, she wasn't worried about being woken by the sounds of glass breaking, shouting, and sobbing.

"My dad is the one who wanted me to play hockey. He got me into it. Came to games drunk and screamed at the refs, coaches, me. If I didn't perform up to his caliber, I heard it the entire way home while he banged his fist on the steering wheel."

I hate thinking about how scared I was to mess up on the ice back then. It felt like literal life and death.

"So, the day he died, it was a huge relief for me. I felt lighter. And although she had to work a lot, and I traveled to games and tournaments with a lot of other families, she always made sure I could play hockey. I'm not sure if it was because my dad wanted me to or because she knew how much I loved it, but she never took it away from me. I felt guilty for a long time because I didn't find any joy in it until after he died."

"I'm glad you were able to find your love for the game after he was gone. It sounds like it was hard to find enjoyment when he would ride you so hard."

I nod. "Yeah, I had some great coaches. I'm pretty sure everyone in my area knew about him. The sports world can seem small at times. But everyone was always nice to Mom and me. Jack's family took me in as one of their own through high school and never asked my mom for hotel room or food reimbursement. That's why I was at the wedding." I smile at her.

She kisses my cheek. "Thank God for that."

"Definitely." I swallow the lump in my throat. "She never told me she was sick. Didn't want to worry me when I was finishing up college. I kick myself now because I knew something was up when I saw her the winter before graduation. She looked frail, but she worked so much that I assumed that's what it was. She told me she'd been taking on a lot of hours. She called me a week after graduation and told me she was sick and wasn't going to get better. I flew home and sat at her bedside until she died." I blink back tears when I remember how frail she looked on her deathbed. "I never got to give her the life she deserved. I never got to take care of her. Allow her to stop working, repay her for everything she did for me."

Kyleigh rises onto her knees and crawls into my lap, laying her head on my chest. "I hate that you had to go through that. Especially alone."

I hold her in my arms because somehow, she makes the pain bearable. "It's life, I guess."

She doesn't say anything, and we hold each other for a long time.

I hate the feeling that things are great now, but they might not stay that way. It's one I was well-acquainted with before my dad died and he'd have a good week or two in a row. Life is unfair and unpredictable, and sometimes you get the shit end of the stick.