Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chloe

"I know I said I'd rather take a puck to the head than mope around anymore, but this hurts like a motherfucker." My ass is flat on the ice, but I could use the ice on my unprotected boob.

Bobby sits down right next to me, hands frantically waving in front of me like he wants to make things right but isn't sure how to go about it when it's that particular body part.

"Druggy is gonna hand me my ass at our team meeting with the new coach," he mutters.

I rub my breast and breathe through the pain. That puck to the chest is going to leave a bruise, but what did I expect playing a friendly pick-up game with a professional athlete nearly half my age? I'm lucky I don't need a full body cast.

Bobby has definitely become a friend since I moved here. Once we got past his constant flirting, that is. He called me up this morning after two weeks of me dressing in all black and scaring my hockey league kids with my intensity. Ayana slipped me a piece of paper earlier this week with an overly sunshiney note about watching Bake Off together sometime soon and I had to hand over practice to Bobby and Matt while I sobbed in the bathroom. I think my less-than-stellar mood was fairly obvious.

Let's be real. I'm a fucking mess and I'm just about done with it.

"Druggy doesn't give a shit what happens to me." And it's true. He walked out my door that night, never to be seen again. He's clearly trying to avoid me, somehow never at the rink anytime I'm slated to be here.

Bobby snorts, getting to his feet and offering me his hand. I take it, letting him help me up, but he doesn't let go. "Oh, yeah? Want to run a little experiment?"

His blue eyes are twinkling, and even in my foul mood I can't ignore the power of Bobby's mischievous grin. I nod. What the hell? Why not?

His hand tightens and he pulls me close, running his fingers through my hair and pushing the strands behind my shoulder. He leans in and looks like he's about to sniff my neck.

"What the hell?" I mutter, looking at him like he's lost his damn mind.

"Shh, just go with it, Coop." He snickers, but lowers his head anyway and licks my neck.

"Hey!" I cry, pushing him back the same time there's a growl from the side of the rink.

"What the fuck, Roadie?"

We both turn to see Nikolai standing like an avenging Slavik warrior, ready to spill blood and burn villages. His fists clench tight at his side and his eyebrows are officially a unibrow. If he doesn't cool that glower, his sweats are in danger of burning clean off him.

"Told ya," Bobby whispers with an obnoxious wink. He releases me and dares to give Nikolai a grin. "Hey, Druggy. Nice to see you."

"Get your ass off that ice before I drag you away."

"I'm outta here!" Bobby holds up his hands in peace and wisely skates off the ice in the opposite direction. He runs right into the mom of one of my students as she looks for a spot for her son to put on his skates. I roll my eyes, but I can't seem to turn away from Nikolai long enough to make sure Bobby apologizes.

Nikolai's standing there, fuming like an angry bull. I drink him in and realize seeing him again hurts worse than that puck to my breast. I fell in love with the guy, told him so, got rejected, and now I might have to see him on the regular. Jesus. Talk about fucking up my move to a new state right out of the gate. Mom and Dad were right all along. Have to steer clear of those hockey boys.

"Do not even think about that," Nikolai commands.

I frown, clearly lost. "Think about what? Hockey boys?"

His frown deepens. I didn't think it was possible. He points his finger at me in warning and stalks off without saying a word. I watch him go, telling myself this will be the last time I watch him walk away from me. We're clearly done and I need to let him go. The locker room door swings shut behind him, and I let out the breath I'm holding.

"Coach!" Little voices sound behind me and I paste on a smile, telling myself to get my shit together and give these kids the kind of fun lesson they deserve. I can lick my wounds later. So that's what I do. I pour everything I have into these kids and focus on building my life the way I always planned.

Later, I tell myself I have one more night of moping before I put that shit to bed.

Nikolai ruined ice cream for me so I stick to the ultra-processed brownies from a box, knowing he'd never allow such terrible nutrition past his lips. I'm four brownies and two glasses of wine into the night and feeling like I might have hurt myself by consuming this for dinner when my doorbell rings. I groan, having no intention of answering it. I'm done with doorbells. Done with tall, Russian-speaking men with magic dicks and big, stubborn hearts. Done with single dads whose kids make you fall in love with them too.

"Chloe? Can we talk? It's Kaitlyn." A muffled female voice through my front door has the wine glass freezing against my lips.

Basic etiquette has me groaning again. I can't just ignore a pregnant woman at my door. Putting the wine glass down, I get to my feet and head for the door. I swing it open and lean against the doorframe. Yes, I answered the door, but I'm not giving the body language of someone who wants an extended visit.

Kaitlyn, perfectly tall and gorgeous and successful, holds up a bottle of wine above her very pregnant belly. "I can't drink it and Banks is trying some no carb diet to keep the old man pounds off. Can I come in?"

"How did you know wine was the magic password?" I give her a wry grin and step back to let her in. We settle on the couch and I pour her wine into my glass. The bottle looks way more expensive than the cheap grocery store brand I had on hand.

She leans her head back on the couch and rubs her belly. "Do you mind?" She gestures to the coffee table and I wave a hand. She kicks off her heels and props her feet up, wiggling her toes. "Damn, no one told me you lose your ankles when pregnant. I knew my waistline would go, but ankles too?"

I take a sip of wine and immediately close my eyes to savor the rich flavor bursting across my tongue. Now I feel bad for not wanting company.

"I know we haven't really reached that level of friendship where we visit each other unannounced, so let me get to the point." She barrels ahead in true Kaitlyn fashion. "Banks sent me."

My eyes fly open. "Why?"

"The boys are worried about you." Kaitlyn zeros in on me with those brown eyes that don't miss a thing. "They had a meeting after Niko left the rink."

My jaw drops open. That just might be the sweetest, most embarrassing thing I've ever heard. "Like, all of them?"

Kaitlyn smiles. "Yep, the whole team. They're all worried about you. Said you haven't been your normal spicy self and they think Niko is to blame. Which is why I'm here. If there's anyone who understands the fuckery of dating a hockey player, it's me." She tips her head back and forth. "And Olivia, I suppose. Roman wasn't exactly easy either."

My hands are shaking at the implication, so I put the wine glass down on the coffee table. I spin toward Kaitlyn and lean forward. "Does everyone know about Nikolai and me?" Honestly, I don't care if they do, but I know Nikolai would care. Very much.

She rolls her eyes. "It's kind of obvious. The two of you look at each other and panties spontaneously combust in a five-mile radius." Then she frowns. "Until recently. The boys say Niko's been an absolute beast. Made MacDougal cry the other day."

I wince. That sounds on brand for Nikolai. I reach for the wine and fill my glass to the brim before sitting back and unloading the entire story on Kaitlyn. By the time I wind down, my glass is empty and she's fanning her face.

"I need to get home to my fiancé. Fun fact: libido cranks up again third trimester."

I force a smile, happy for my friend, but heart aching from retelling our story, knowing that's all I have left of Nikolai. "Well, thanks for swinging by. The wine and company were fantastic."

Kaitlyn waves her hand away from her face. "Oh, I'm not leaving yet. I gotta know how this ends."

I shrug, feeling the buzz of the wine now and enjoying the way it blunts the ache in my chest. "I wish I knew, but I have a feeling it ends with nights like this. Wine, sugar, and crying myself to sleep until I'm over him."

"Oh, honey. No. Absolutely not." She shakes her head so hard her hair starts tumbling out of the messy bun on top of her head. "That man is in love with you."

The words hit like an arrow lancing my chest. It's hard to breathe around it, but I force myself to respond. "No, he actually isn't. And I need to accept that and move on."

Kaitlyn reaches over and squeezes my hand, surprisingly hard for a woman putting all her resources into growing another human being. "That's just it, babe. The boys are convinced he's in love with you. He actually laughed at one of Bobby's jokes in the locker room three weeks ago. You know, when things were still good between you. And that's also why he's been such a beast now that you've been apart."

Her words spark some stupid flame of hope, but I squash it. Quick. "Listen, I settled in a relationship before and I refuse to do that again. My late husband and I were good friends, and that was nice, but I need more. I want someone who loves me passionately. This is supposed to be my second chance at life and love. I won't settle again."

"You definitely shouldn't!" Kaitlyn agrees, patting my hands. "But these men..." She shakes her head and huffs out a breath. "They're not much brighter than their hockey sticks when it comes to love. You have to shove them into a wall to get their attention."

Reaching over, I pull her into a hug. "Thanks for trying to help, but I don't want to shove anyone anywhere. He's gotta figure this one out on his own." I'm still hurting, but I can feel the resolve settling in my bones. I know what kind of man I want and if Nikolai can't be that man, then I need to move on. "I won't settle, Kaitlyn."

She gives me a sad smile but nods this time. "I understand. For his sake, I hope he pulls his head out of his ass. He's about to lose a queen among women. Now help me up, would you?" She flails her hands in the air and I laugh. It takes a count of three and a generous tug upward, but she makes it off the couch and onto her feet. I walk her out and lock the door behind her.

Nothing is actually better, but I feel better. As I collect my glass and pan of brownies, taking them into the kitchen for a round in the dishwasher, I think about how I've been through the stages of grief before. This time feels different though. Back then, I was exhausted, relieved, and then feeling guilty for being relieved after Josh died. I'd been hopeful for a better life, one built on my terms. This time around, I just feel sad. Sad for all we could have been but will never be because of Nikolai's misplaced sense of honor. Or maybe I'm delusional and he just didn't love me enough to work through the blended family issues and telling my father about us. And I guess I'll never know. Nikolai has never been one to communicate much, even on a good day.

Slipping into a pajama set that makes me feel like a sleek and sexy woman, I know I'll wake up in the middle of the night and have to change them. I dump a few extra flakes in Sushi's tank. She gulps them down and stares at me through the glass. At least she's not hiding from me any longer.

"Just you and me and waking up soaking wet, Sushi." Her mouth opens and closes. I grimace. "Yeah, I know. That sounded weird. I blame the wine."

I slide into bed and close my eyes, refusing to acknowledge how much I miss Nikolai's strong arms wrapped around me.