13. Sydney

CHAPTER 13

SYDNEY

I jolt awake, my body buzzing with electric arousal from the vivid dream still playing in my mind.

DJ's strong hands roaming my curves, his soft lips blazing a trail of desire across my flushed skin. His long fingers plunging deep into my aching cunt as I writhe and moan beneath him. The thick length of his cock pounding into me, taking me to dizzying heights of ecstasy.

Five days. It's been five excruciatingly long days since our night of reckless passion in Tampa, but I can't stop reliving every sinful second.

The forbidden thrill, the insatiable need, the explosive release.

Giving into temptation with DJ was more incredible than I ever could have imagined.

Biting my lip, I slide a hand beneath the covers, teasing myself as the erotic memories wash over me. The way his eyes darkened with lust as he growled filthy commands. How he edged me for what felt like hours until I was desperate and begging.

Finding my clit, I start to circle it slowly, prolonging the delicious sensation. I close my eyes, letting the fantasy take over once more.

DJ's voice echoes in my head, low and husky, dripping with desire. "Come for me, Sydney."

"Yes," I whisper back to the empty room, my breath hitching as my fingers quicken their pace.

The buildup of pleasure crescendos, my orgasm sweeping through me like a tidal wave, my body convulsing in silent, shuddering waves. As the aftershocks ripple through me, I lie still, panting softly, the echo of DJ's voice and the way his cock felt inside me slowly fading away.

I roll over, checking the clock. It's early, barely dawn, but sleep is now a distant possibility, chased away by lingering arousal and restlessness.

Groaning in frustration, I throw off the blankets and swing my legs over the side of the bed. The cool air nips at my skin, causing goosebumps to rise.

"I need a shower," I mutter to myself, standing and padding toward the bathroom. The hot spray of the shower is soothing, washing away the remnants of my dream—or at least attempting to.

As water pours over me, the image of DJ's intense gaze and the ghost of his body pressed against mine invade my thoughts yet again. I lean my head against the cool tile, closing my eyes and letting out a long, slow exhale.

What have I done? I'm the Blizzards' counselor, and DJ is on the team…

The thought of the team suddenly has my stomach in knots for an entirely different reason: what would Tyler think if he knew what happened?

A flash of guilt pinches at my heart. Would it destroy our friendship? Our working relationship? What would it do to the team dynamics?

Shaking my head, I turn off the water, determined to push those thoughts away for the morning. Wrapping a towel tightly around myself, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, hair damp and tousled—evidence of the turmoil swirling inside me.

I pull on a pair of jeans and a loose sweater, then grab my keys and bag and wrap my biggest winter scarf around my neck, ready to step out into the frigid morning air. As I close the door behind me, I envision myself shutting the door on the memories of DJ in bed.

Putting it behind me, for good.

Jason is first on my agenda for the day, and I'm pleased to see his smiling face in the doorway as he arrives a few minutes early.

"Morning, Syd!" Jason beams, his enthusiasm infectious. I find myself beaming back. "Ready to tackle the world today?"

I nod, shuffling some papers on my desk until I find my notes from our last session. "Absolutely, let's get started."

"I used those breathing techniques you showed me during our last game, when things got heated," Jason shares as he drops into the chair across from me, eyes shining with excitement. "Totally kept my cool. You were right, it works! Felt awesome!"

"That's amazing progress, Jason!" I feel a burst of pride for him.

It's moments like these that remind me why I love my job. It's so rewarding to see someone building back up from a low place, and Jason has done exactly that.

The morning continues with back-to-back meetings, both with my patients and some of the team staff. I'm relieved to find that everything is going smoothly today.

Even prickly Mikey seems slightly less hostile during his appointment. Sure, he still tosses out the occasional barb, but hey, at least he's not storming out anymore. Baby steps.

I staunchly avoid any thoughts of DJ, repeating my new mantra: That night was just a much-needed release, a way to move past the tension. Totally healthy, totally fine. Totally…normal?

I drop my head into my hands, realizing how crazy I sound in my own head, and that's how Eva Rodriguez finds me when she knocks.

I look up and take in the serious expression of the head athletic trainer, my optimism deflating further at the worry in her eyes.

"Eva, come in, take a seat." I straighten quickly and gesture at the chair across from me. "What's up?"

She closes the door behind her as she enters and I gulp discreetly. That's never a good sign . "I wanted to talk to you about Mikey."

Uh oh. What now? I try to keep my face neutral. "Of course. What's going on?"

Eva leans forward, hands clasped on her lap. "I've been noticing some concerning patterns with him lately. I mean…worse than usual."

We both laugh grimly at that—Mikey has a reputation with the Blizzards staff for being difficult.

"Mood swings, erratic behavior," she continues. "He'll be joking around one minute, then irritable and withdrawn the next."

A sinking sensation begins to form in my stomach. "I see. Have you noticed anything specific triggering these changes?"

"Not that I can pinpoint. But it's definitely affecting team dynamics." Eva's brow furrows with worry. "Just yesterday, he snapped at Ryan over a simple miscommunication during practice. It was way out of proportion."

Shit . This isn't the progress report I was hoping for. I chew my bottom lip, mind racing.

"Has he seemed like he's been using anything to you? Any signs of drinking, or other substances?"

Eva shakes her head. "No, nothing specific. But he's been able to hide this from us before, so…" Her gaze is earnest, almost pleading. "Sydney, I know you've been working closely with him. If there's something going on, we need to address it immediately. For his well-being and the team's."

I nod slowly, the weight of the responsibility settling heavily on my shoulders. Eva's words trouble me more than I'm letting on—I thought Mikey and I were making strides, that he was starting to trust me.

But clearly, I've only scratched the surface.

"I understand," I say, injecting more confidence into my voice than I feel. "I'll dig deeper with him, see if I can get to the root of what's going on. I'm not giving up on him, Eva. I promise you that."

She offers me a small smile, some of the tension easing from her posture. "I appreciate that, Sydney. Keep me in the loop, okay?"

As Eva leaves my office, my mind is already spinning, strategizing my next move with Mikey.

I refuse to let this setback derail the progress we've made.

I'm staring down at the remnants of my sad reheated stir fry in the break room, fruitlessly trying to come up with ideas to get through to Mikey, when I hear someone clear their throat. I look up to see Tyler standing in the doorway.

"Hey," he says softly, sauntering over. "Mind if I join you?"

I nod mutely as he settles into the chair next to me, his broad shoulders and chiseled features making the spacious room suddenly seem very small. Despite myself, despite all the hours I've spent thinking about DJ this week, his presence next to me still makes me go all hot and tingly.

"How are you holding up, Syd?" Tyler asks, those piercing blue eyes seeing right through me as usual.

I shrug. "Oh, fine. You know, just living the glamorous life of an underpaid counselor."

A ghost of a smile flickers across his face, but his eyes stay distant. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, hockey stardom isn't all it's cracked up to be either."

"Really? The fame, the fortune, the women throwing themselves at you...sounds terrible," I tease gently.

Tyler chuckles before his expression grows serious again. "Sometimes it's like a huge act. Everyone either wants a piece of me or expects me to be just like my brother. It's like no one actually sees me ."

My heart stutters in my chest at the confession. I'm honored that he's opened up to me and swallow hard, not wanting to spook him.

"I know the feeling," I murmur. "It's like you're trapped in a box of other people's perceptions."

Tyler nods, reaching out to lay his hand over mine. The familiar electricity zings through me at his touch.

"Exactly. You're the only one I can really discuss this with, Syd." He pauses, studying my face, then shakes his head. "I don't know why you're so damn easy to talk to."

He's leaning closer, those full lips parted slightly, beckoning me.

For a crazy moment, I imagine closing the distance between us, finally giving in to the attraction that's been bubbling beneath the surface between us for so long.

But then Tyler sits back, his brow furrowing. "There's something else... It's DJ. I think—I think I might have feelings for him. Like more-than-teammate feelings."

He laughs awkwardly, his face flushing.

"God, I sound like a kid. But you know what I mean. I don't…I don't know what to do, so I've just been avoiding him, but I can't keep going this way."

His voice is soft and uncertain, his eyes searching when they meet mine again.

And just like that, reality comes crashing back in. My heart clenches.

As much as it pains me, as much as it causes a flood of jealousy on both ends, I know the best thing I can do is encourage Tyler to explore this, now that he's finally owning up to it. Saying this out loud—this is big for Tyler, I know it.

I can't get in the way of this connection.

I squeeze his hand. "Ty, if you like DJ, you owe it to yourself to see where it leads."

"You really think so? Even if..." He trails off, looking at me searchingly.

"Even if," I confirm around the lump in my throat, though I'm not entirely sure how he intended to finish the sentence. "You deserve to be happy."

We continue chatting as we rise and walk out of the break room. The easy rapport is still there, but there's a new undercurrent charged with all the things we're leaving unsaid.

When we reach my office door, an awkward silence falls. I fumble for the knob.

"Well, I guess I'll see you around," I mumble.

But then Tyler is pulling me into his arms, enveloping me in a hug that makes my treacherous body light up despite my heart continuing to sink lower and lower. He smells like pine and fresh ice.

"Thanks, Syd," he rumbles near my ear. "For everything."

And then he's gone and I'm closing the door, sinking down against it, my heart a riot of confusion.

Oh God. What have I done?