Chapter Twenty-Four

Keely

The dim lighting of the upscale restaurant that Jaxson brought me to goes a long way to help quiet my mind and settle my nerves. The first date jitters are part of it, but what really has my brain reeling is the moment Reeve and I shared in the supply closet at the Hawkeyes stadium after he was cleared by the doctor.

I'm disappointed with how easy it was for Reeve to pull me back in.

I should have been strong enough to put space between us and keep it there, but I let my emotions get in the way, and the desperate need to be with him again clouded my judgment.

I don't regret what we did.

I just regret the look on his face right before I walked out of the room, closing the door between us. And I regret that by feeding my need for one more time, my ability to think of almost anything else this whole week has been shot to hell.

At least the team has been gone the last few days for out-of-town games. I've been able to use the time to get myself setup in my new office right next door to Dr. Omar without having to see patients yet. And not having to worry about bumping into Reeve has helped me focus on my tasks.

Seeing a plaque with my name on the door each time I go to work has been the thrill of my life. And spending my lunch hour at Serendipity Coffee Shop with the girls is an unexpected perk.

"How's work going? Are you all settled into your new office?" he asks, after we've ordered our food.

The menu looks amazing, and I wish my mind hadn't drifted off to thinking that Reeve would love this place.

Maybe he's already been here before with a date?

The thought of Reeve with someone else turns my stomach but I do hope he finds someone to be happy with even though it will be painful at first to see him with someone new. But then I'll get used to it; we'll settle into a new routine and accept that our futures don't include each other. Then it will be easier to digest.

"It's better than I could have imagined. And Dr. Omar is the nicest guy. He's been filling me in on what to expect and building up my confidence for the crazy schedule I have ahead of me. I have to go through each player's chart, get caught up on their injuries and current therapy plans from the PT who's leaving, and then I have to meet with each player next week when they get home from out of town."

"Sounds like a busy schedule. I'm glad to hear that Dr. Omar is easy to work with. He seems like a good guy from the limited correspondence that he and I have had about Reeve."

My eyes drop from his and focus on the silverware on the table at the mention of Reeve's name.

I can only hope that I'm not as transparent as I feel.

"Can I ask you something?" Jaxson asks.

"Yeah, sure, anything," I tell him, my eyes finding his again.

"Did you and Reeve have a thing for each other?"

"A thing? Reeve and me? Why do you ask?"

I already feel outed but confessing that Reeve and I hooked up while he was my PT patient is not something I'll be giving up freely.

"Because what I've heard about Reeve is that he's one of the nicest hockey players on the team, but I can tell he doesn't care for me much and I can't think of anything I've done besides pull off a difficult surgery to save his career."

I'm relieved that he's asking because he thinks he sees the desire to be together in Reeve's eyes… and not because he just caught it in mine.

"What do you mean? He usually seems pleasant around you whenever I've seen you two interact."

"Yeah… at face value. But then I see his shoulders tense and his jaw tighten."

"I think you're seeing things," I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

I haven't witnessed any of that, but I can't promise that Jaxson is seeing things. He could be reading Reeve correctly.

"I'm a doctor. I'm acutely aware when someone I see has a muscle tic. And Reeve seems to only have one when I'm standing near you. It's an occupational hazard to notice things about people. It could save a life if I can diagnose a health issue quickly."

"What do you see when you see me?" I ask, laying down my fork and resting my hand on my chin with my elbow on the table.

"You're attracted to me," he says with a sexy smile, and then it falters slightly. "But you're playful with him. He puts you at ease. An ease that I don't usually see you in, not at Oakley's, not on the soccer field, and not with me."

It seems he sees more than a doctor looking for health concerns, but he's not wrong.

"I've spent more time with him than I've spent with you. I'm easier around people and places I know well."

"Okay, I'll accept that. But why are you tense at your uncle's bar that you know well or on a soccer field which you seem to know better than half the players on the city league combined?"

Okay, he might have a point.

Being around Reeve does something to me. I can't deny that.

Maybe it's because I feel safe with him?

But I can't admit any of that to Jaxson because then he'll think there is something going on between Reeve and me, that isn't.

I like Jaxson—a lot, actually.

We have a lot in common, like the medical field, soccer, and shithead dads.

It also doesn't hurt his case that my uncle really likes him,which can be a hard sell—and he's a hot surgeon.

"I think it's just that large crowds make me uneasy. I'm always worried that someone in the sports world is going to find out who I'm related to and judge me for it. Which is also why I can promise you that nothing would ever happen between me and Reeve. It would kill his career."

His eyebrows raise. "That's a heavy statement. Plenty of us have shitty parents. What's so great about yours that they would end up killing a highly-ranked NHL goalie's career?" he asks

He pulls his water glass toward him and then takes a sip.

I take a deep breath. I don't exactly want to admit this to him but at the same time… I feel like I might explode if I don't tell someone. And besides, if this relationship is going to continue, he's going to find out soon enough. I can't keep my history from someone I'm seeing seriously, forever.

And if this thing with Jaxson turns into forever, will he be mad when I tell him that my uncle Oakley is going to walk me down the aisle instead of my dad? Since my dad spent most of my life in prison? Especially because Jaxson was so open about his family with me.

No, I should just tell him now and get the secrets out of the way.

"My dad used to work for the mob," I say.

"Oh…" Jaxson pulls back in surprise. "I wasn't expecting that. Maybe your family situation is worse than mine," he says with a polite chuckle.

"Yeah…" I nod, reaching for my wine glass.

I swirl the last of the red liquid in my glass, watching as it glides close to the rim.

"I could see how that could be considered tabloid catnip but I don't think it would even make it to the front page. And I don't see how it would end Reeve's career."

"I'll tell you, but first, I would like to request special doctor/patient privileges before I continue."

Jaxson puts down his fork and reaches out for my free hand lying on the table.

"You're not my patient but you have my word that I won't tell a soul."

His eyes soften as they gaze into mine and I believe that he'll keep my secret. I just hope that I'm not making a mistake by telling him.

"Do you remember the scandal around the World Cup fifteen years ago?" I ask.

"Of course I do. Back then I was going into my freshman year of high school and thought I was going to be a professional soccer player. A lot changed for me the next day when I found out that we lost the house. After that, soccer left a bad taste in my mouth."

"Yeah, well everything around me crumbled after that night too when the FBI broke through the front door with a SWAT team and pulled my dad out of our house."

"Oh shit…" he says, squeezing my hand. "That must have been terrifying—being so young and having that happen."

"It was."

I nod, remembering the bright light of high-powered swat flashlights shining under my bedroom door. But no one opened it to tell me what was going on.

"That's my daughter's room. Don't go in there," he threatened whoever was pulling him through the house as they passed by my room. I wasn't supposed to be there that night but my mom had to fly out of town to see a great aunt in Florida so I got to stay with my dad for the entire weekend.

My mother resented him for putting us through hell. From the night they broke through the front door while I was staying with him, to the year-long criminal trial, to the death threats from of Soccer fans from all around the world that came to our mailbox for years .

She refused to let fear move us out of town even though my uncle Oakley begged her to move me to Seattle and out of Mesa. But her family and friends were still there, we still had support from so many.

"What happened next," he asks.

"My father stood trial for his involvement in the World Cup racketeering scandal."

Jaxson's face falls and his skin turns gray. He pulls his hand off mine slowly—my skin losing his heat with each inch he pulls back until I'm left cold again, like I have been for the last fifteen years.

"Fuck…" he mutters to himself and stares down at his lap.

Though I'm not usually surprised by his reaction… It's usually not people in the medical field that take the news this hard. I had told a few people in college when the conversation came up over late-night study parties. People's eyes would widen but more to the fact that my dad was in the mob. The World Cup didn't mean much to most of them, and not many even remember hearing about the scandal.

It's one of the reasons I stayed in school and got my doctorate instead of stopping at my master's. College was the first time that I felt safe with my peers. People were too damn busy trying to juggle exams, coursework, extra school credit, additional lab time, and a mountain of school debt to care about anyone else's life problems other than their own.

It was more like, "Oh… your dad is a convicted mobster who paid a whole team of players to throw one of the highest televised sporting events of all time? Great…. Now, can I borrow your notes from the anatomy lecture from yesterday?"

Those years were the happiest I had ever been since I was fourteen.

When Jaxson doesn't say anything, I continue.

"My dad just got out recently, and if Reeve and I started dating, then it could look bad on sponsorships and teams looking to take him on as a player. No one will want to associate with a player whose girlfriend is linked to a guy who paid off a team to throw a game. No one will believe that my father isn't out of prison and still working for the mob, trying to convince Reeve to throw a hockey game. He'll become too much of a risk for teams to take on."

Jaxson's eyes are still cast down—deep in thought—or shock. I'm not sure which.

"Keely," he says, peering up, his eyes full of emotion. "Jesus, I can't believe I'm about to say this. It's been a really long time since I've felt this way about anyone. I started thinking that you could turn out to be the… never mind, that's not helpful right now."

I didn't finish the sentence, but I can guess.

He started thinking that I could turn out to be the one .

We're not even together and he's breaking up with me over my father's transgression.

Figures. Life keeps playing a cruel joke on me, but no one seems to be laughing.

"It's fine. You don't have to say anything. I'm used to this reaction by now. We can split the check, and I'll call a rideshare to take me home," I say, reaching up a hand to flag down the waitress.

"Wait—Split the check?—Get a rideshare?" he says, holding up a hand to stop me. "You caught me off guard. Just give me a second to wrap my brain around this."

I sit back against my chair, pulling my hands off the table and pull my arms around my waist protectively.

"Do you remember how I told you that my mother divorced my father after he lost our house because he gambled the note away?" I nod, the story coming back to my memory. "And do you remember how I told you that my dad is a bigger soccer fan than me and always dreamed I'd play professionally?" I nod again. "Keely, he bet our house on the World Cup and lost. That was the bet that cost me my family."

I let out a shaky breath.

So many of the death threats we received were from people who had lost money on the game. People who lost their families like Jaxson did because they bet their life savings, retirement, children's college funds, or other assets. And though I won't defend my father's actions, it's impossible to know which team would have won that night if it hadn't been fixed. All those people would have lost anyway if the team my dad paid off did win the game that night.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Jaxson. I really am," I say, my eyes darting away from him and down at my half-eaten meal, which I'm no longer hungry enough to eat.

He runs a hand through his hair and blows out a breath.

"It's not your fault. I don't blame you for what your father did or for the detrimental decisions my father made that led to our family imploding—in my father's case, it would have happened eventually. But the thing is… I'll never be able to introduce you to my mom. My parents just barely got back on speaking terms, agreeing to a ceasefire for my brother's wedding. Bringing you into the mix now will stir up old hurt that she's finally buried for my brother's sake."

My father's sins strike again.

I can't hide the disappointment and hurt on my face.

"This hurts me more than it will hurt you," he says.

I cock an eyebrow at him. "Why would you say that?"

"Because he's been waiting, hoping I'll step out of line, and the minute I do, he's going to step in to fill my spot."

Step in to fill his spot?

"Who?"

His eyes soften toward me. There are no hard feelings in his eyes—just matched disappointment.

"You know who."