If You Love Me: Chapter 11

I pass the coaching staff as I board the plane for Ottawa. Coach Forrester is sitting in an aisle seat, dressed in a blue suit. Her long hair hangs over her shoulder in her signature braid, notebook open beside her, pen poised between her long fingers, New York’s last game against Ottawa plays on her laptop. It’s angled slightly so that Grace, who is in the seat next to her, can also watch.

“This right here.” She pauses the game as Ottawa takes the shot on net. “What do you see?”

He rubs his chin. “I didn’t read the play correctly.”

“Oh, but I think you did,” she replies. “And the deflection should have worked, but look what happens over here.” Connor leans in as she resumes the game.

Pride makes my chest swell. She’s making real progress with Grace on a game level, and I have confidence that the rest will follow. Especially because she lives and breathes the sport. In the weeks since she joined the Terror, she’s been constantly throwing out new ideas and looking for ways the team can level up.

I take an aisle seat, facing her. Her gaze lifts to mine for a moment before she returns her attention to her screen and she and Connor continue to dissect the game. Her pen finds its way between her lips. And my cock stirs at the combination of her owning her role, leading her players as we discussed, while also looking like my favorite treat.

“You all right, man?” Hollis asks.

“Huh?” I look away from Coach Forrester.

“You seem like you’re all up in your head. Last season reality hitting?”

“Oh. Yeah.” My stomach twists as I swallow down the lie. This is not about my career. This season can’t be over soon enough. “How was your meeting with your agent?”

“Good.” Hollis taps on his armrest. “I talked to Alex Waters yesterday.”

“Oh yeah? What’d he have to say?” Alex Waters, a legend of a player, runs the Hockey Academy out in Pearl Lake with a bunch of other retired players.

“They’re in the process of opening a satellite campus in Toronto. His parents are out in Guelph, and he wants a reason to be closer,” Hollis says. “They’re looking for coaches.”

“Really?” That’s an interesting option.

“He’s sending information next week. He asked what your plans were. Could be a good opportunity.”

I rub my bottom lip as my heart leaps. My gaze drifts back to Coach Forrester. I could stay in Toronto. Next year I won’t be on the team, and that means…she won’t be off-limits. Dating her wouldn’t be the issue it is now. We wouldn’t be contending with red tape and bureaucracy. Now it could damage her reputation, not to mention her career. But after I’m retired, I could pursue her with much less recourse. She could be mine. “It could. I’ll mention it to my agent.”

“It’d be nice if we could keep working together next year, you know?” Hollis says.

“Yeah, it would,” I agree. So much has changed in the past year, including our friendship, but coaching together could be a great next move.

It’s a short flight to Ottawa. Soon we’re getting settled in our room, and Hollis leaves me to my routine so he can “check in” on Peggy. I put all my things away, roll out my yoga mat, and do my post-flight stretch routine. When I’m done, I grab one of the green apples from the bowl I set out and head down to the lobby to meet Hollis.

But when I get there, the first person I see is Lexi. She’s pacing an empty hall, phone to her ear, tugging the end of her braid. Something is clearly wrong. I should leave her alone. I shouldn’t interfere, but the possibilities of what could be once the season ends make it impossible to walk the other way.

“How high is her fever?” She exhales a relieved breath. “Okay. That’s manageable. And you already gave her something for the temperature?”

She spins around and nearly slams into me. I settle my hands on her shoulders to steady her. Worry creases her brow. “We don’t want it to go over one-oh-three. I don’t love that I’m not there when Callie’s not well.” She mouths, I need a minute.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I murmur, hands still on her shoulders.

“Callie should stay home tomorrow. Crap. I don’t want you to miss a test.” She reaches out and skims my tie. I wore it when I took her out for a very private dinner in New York. “Maybe I can catch an earlier flight home. I’ll check in with you after the game. I love you, too, Big Pheels. I’m sorry. Hugs for Callie.” She ends the call and pinches the bridge of her nose. “How can I help you, Roman?”

“You can help me by letting me help you,” I say softly.

“You need to get to the arena, and so do I,” she replies.

“We do, but Callie is sick, and you won’t be able to focus on the game if the situation doesn’t get managed, which means neither will I, because I’ll be irritated at myself for not stepping in when I could,” I argue.

“Why are you being so kind?” she whispers.

“Because being angry about the past doesn’t change anything tonight, and I feel better being a nice guy instead of an asshole.” I finger the end of her braid. “I presume Peggy and Hemi have already pulled you into their group chat.”

“Yes, but⁠—”

“You and Dred were talking the other day. Why don’t you see if she’s around?”

She frowns, like she’s surprised I know this.

“I pay far more attention to you than I should, Lexi. If you don’t pull up Dred’s contact information, I’ll get it from my daughter and do it myself.”

“You’re so bossy,” she gripes.

“You love when I take control.”

She gives me a look. “Watch yourself, Goalie.”

“Pull up Dred’s contact, Coach.”

She worries her bottom lip. “I can’t ask her to watch Callie when she’s sick.”

“Fine. I’ll do it for you.” I pull my phone out of my pocket.

“Don’t.” She grabs my hand. “I’ll do it.”

“Good girl.” I don’t mean for it to come out gravelly.

A shiver runs through her, but she doesn’t say anything else, just sends the message. It takes all of three seconds for Dred to reply.

“She’s done at the library at ten, and she’s offered to stay the night.”

“Perfect. Now the only thing you have to worry about tonight is the game, which I need to suit up for.” I turn to walk away before I lose the battle with my body and pull her into my arms.

“Roman.”

God, what it does to me when my name is on her lips. I glance over my shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Despite feeling good going into the game, I do not play well. Nothing goes right for any of us. Grace is on second line with a less-experienced enforcer, leaving us vulnerable. But putting him on the same line as Madden seems to be asking for more problems than it’s worth. That needs to end so we don’t fuck up the season. As it is, I let in three goals while Ottawa shuts us out. I hope like hell it doesn’t set the tone for what’s coming my way for the rest of the season.

Peggy hugs me first when we exit the locker room after. I don’t know if that makes me feel worse or better. “I’m sorry, Dado. I know that game was a hard one.”

I pat her back. “Thanks, kiddo.”

“You’re coming out tonight, right?” She smooths the lapels on my suit jacket.

“Nah. I think I’ll take it easy.” I tip my chin toward the group, who look like they’re figuring out where to go. “You have fun. Go burn some energy and take Hollis with you.”

“Are you sure? We can stay back.”

“I’m sure, kiddo. Go out. Have a good time. I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.” If they stay back I’ll have to make up more lies as to why I’m not in the mood, and I’d like to avoid that for the sake of my stomach and my conscience.

“Okay.” She kisses my cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I return to the hotel, but I’m too on edge to relax, so I change and head to the gym to run out my frustration.

I’m 3K into a run when the gym door opens and in walks my wet dream and my worst temptation. Lexi pulls her cropped sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in a sports bra and running shorts. It’s skin, skin, and more skin—all her toned, athletic, incredibly fucking bendy body on display as she crosses the room.

It’s eleven, so the gym is empty apart from us. Our flight leaves at eight thirty in the morning. We should be getting ready for bed. I’d love to give her a different kind of workout.

She falters when she reaches the treadmills but steps up onto the one beside mine. “Didn’t get enough of a workout on the ice tonight?”

“Apparently not.” I fight to keep from looking at her, but I can’t help myself as she winds her braid on top of her head and secures it with a scrunchie. I long to free that coil of hair, wrap it around my fist and kiss a path from her shoulder to her ear. I clear my throat and look away. “How’s Callie?”

“The fever is down, and she’s asleep, so that’s good. Dred doesn’t have a shift until the afternoon, so she can stay with Callie until I get back. That means Fee can go to school.”

“That’s good.” I try to keep my mouth shut, to not say whatever the fuck is on my mind, but my self-restraint is a bag of shit. “So why are you here if Callie’s being taken care of?”

“Probably the same reason you are.” She starts her treadmill.

“Doubtful,” I grumble.

She side-eyes me. “So this isn’t post-game punishment?”

“Not entirely, no.”

“So partially punishment.”

I avoid the question and ask one of my own. “Why are you down here?”

“Trying to settle my mind. My goalie had a rough game, and it’s my fault.”

“How I fail to protect the net isn’t on you.” I increase my pace.

She hits the stop button and turns to face me. “Isn’t it? I show up here, no warning, no explanation, in your last season. I know I fucked up, Roman. I knew the second I saw you that I’d made a mistake.”

“You’re a good fit for this team.”

“I know. That’s not the mistake.”

My gut churns. I hop off the belt and hit the stop button on my treadmill. I should leave. Walk away. But I can’t. “Me. I’m the mistake.”

“I wish I could take it back,” she whispers.

That hurts more than a puck to the chest. I take a moment before I speak. “At least look me in the eye when you tell me you regret me.”

Her eyes move over my face, and I find that same desire I feel every time I’m close to her reflected back at me. “I don’t regret you. At all,” she says. “That’s the problem, Roman. Every time you look at me, touch me—I relive what it was to be with you.”

Fuck. I wish she was less beautiful, less incredible, less of a powerhouse woman, less of a siren in the bedroom. But she’s all those things and more, and it’s driving me up the fucking wall. “If that’s true why did you leave with no note?” It’s the thing that’s been eating at me.

Her expression grows pained. “I thought I was just a fun weekend for you,” she whispers. “That I was just one of many who got to warm your bed then be forgotten.”

“And what do you think now?” I grip the rail, struggling not to reach out and stroke her cheek, feel her soft skin under my fingertips, to give in to this overwhelming need.

“That I was wrong.”

Her fingers skim her collarbones, drawing my attention to her cleavage. Which I’ve had my hands and face buried in. And I also fucked.

I give her the look. The one that made her putty in my hands every fucking time. God, she’s just so full of fire. So infuriatingly in control, while I’m over here fighting to stay on the right side of the line.

“Do not look at me like that, Roman.” Her expression is resolute, but the waver in her voice tells a different story. “I’m your coach.”

I step off my treadmill and onto hers.

She backs up until she hits the control panel.

“I think you like it when I look at you like this, Lexi.” I grab the arm rails to keep myself from pulling her into my arms so I can reacquaint myself with her lips. Instead, I ask the still unanswered questions. “Why did you leave me in New York with cold sheets and no note.”

“I didn’t want to be just another woman after your fame.” She glances away. “I was barely starting my career and you were…bigger than life. I didn’t want to be a lifelong hockey fan who slept my way into my dream role.” Her expression is pained as her eyes meet mine. “It was the best weekend of my life, Roman. I was young and I didn’t believe you could possibly feel the way I did.”

I motion between us. “Do you still feel this chemistry the way I do?”

I don’t know what I was hoping for, but her guard goes back up.

“I’m your coach, Roman.”

My gaze narrows and my next words sound like a demand. “That’s not an answer, Alexandria.”

She exhales a shuddering breath. “Roman.”

“I want your truth.”

“Yes. I still feel it. Whenever you’re near me it’s all I can think about. It consumes me. You consume me. I’ve played out every scenario in my head a thousand times. Do you have any idea how badly I’d wanted to stay that morning? But I didn’t. All we have is here and now. You have to see how impossible this is,” she implores. “It doesn’t matter what I want anymore. My career would be over if I acted on these feelings.”

“You’re turning my world upside down.”

Her bottom lip trembles. “So are you. Again. Still.”

Knowing there’s the possibility of a future with her that’s currently out of reach is maddening. I want so desperately to find a way to have what I want. Her. Us.

We’ve both dropped our arms and moved closer, like our bodies know what they want and don’t give a shit that acting on that impulse will blow our lives apart.

“Roman, please,” she whispers.

I spin around and leave the gym before I give in and do something we’ll both regret.