If You Love Me: Chapter 26

I’m under control enough to pick myself up off the closet floor and buzz Roman in. When I open the door, he takes one look at me, steps inside, and folds me into his strong, warm embrace. “I’ve got you. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

I grip his jacket and hold on for dear life, like he can stop me from sinking. Like he’s a life preserver in rough waters. Like I finally have permission to be vulnerable. With him, I don’t have to be strong and in control all the time. “I don’t know how to do this. I’m failing them.”

“Oh, angel, no you’re not.” He tips my chin up. “Tell me what happened. What’s going on?”

I recount the whole story through stuttered breaths and hiccups.

“This doesn’t sound like you’re failing. It sounds like two kids who lost their parents are struggling with how to handle their emotions. Should we get them out here so we can talk it through?”

“They can’t see me like this.” I dash tears away.

“Yes, they can, and they should. You’re hurting too. You’re not their parent, you’re their sister, and they need to understand that this is just as hard for you as it is for them. It’s okay for them to see you upset. It’s how you connect, and heal.” He presses his lips to my forehead, then guides me to the living room.

I sit on the couch, and he crouches in front of me, his hands on my knees. He’s just so incredible. Kind and gentle when the circumstances call for it, intensely focused and ruthlessly competent when it comes to his job and…other things. He knows how to handle this situation and how to calm me. I’m falling deeper every day, and I’m powerless to stop it.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“For what?” He tucks my hair behind my ear.

For so many things, starting with the morning I left him sleeping in that hotel bed without saying goodbye. “For being such a hot mess. For dragging you into this.”

“No one dragged me here. I called you. I didn’t ask if I could come over; I told you I was. I was showing up no matter what, Lexi. Staying away from you, maintaining a veneer of professionalism, I do those things for you, not me. But when you’re hurting, I can’t toe that line. I won’t. And I will face whatever consequences there are for that, because not being here when you need me isn’t something I can handle.”

“Why do you have to be so amazing?” My bottom lip trembles.

“Why do you?” He passes me a tissue.

“I’m trying so hard not to need you, Roman.”

He strokes my cheek. “That’s because you always have to be the strong one. It’s okay to need someone. It took me until you showed up to realize that.”

I exhale a steadying breath. There are so many things I want to say, but the words won’t come.

“We can figure us out later, when you’re not in an emotional tornado.”

I laugh, and he smiles.

“You let me know when you’re ready to handle the girls.”

I nod. “I’m ready.”

“You’ve got this, Lexi. Take a few deep breaths. I’ll get Callie and Fee. It’s okay for them to see you cry.” He kisses me on the cheek and stands.

I watch him walk down the hall, wondering what the hell my sisters will think when he comes knocking on their doors. I guess I’ll find out soon enough. He returns a minute later with Fee and Callie. Both look like they’ve been crying, and both are wide-eyed.

“Lexi?” Callie runs over. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry!” Her tears start all over again.

Fee drops her head and peeks up at us through her curtain of hair. I hold out a hand, and she comes around to the other side. And then we’re a mass of limbs and tears. Roman takes a seat on one of the occasional chairs. He’s so calm, composed, completely in control—the opposite of how he is when we’re fighting the draw. But all these sides of him, all the versions I’ve come to know these past few months create a man I desperately want to be with.

I’m past falling. I’ve fallen. That realization is sobering. And damning. But I don’t want to undo it. Not when he’s here, trying to keep us from shattering. Eventually the tears stop.

The intercom buzzes.

I frown, and the girls look confused.

“That’s dinner,” Roman says. “It’s hard to have a productive conversation when everyone is upset and hangry.” He excuses himself to get the door.

“I really like him a lot,” Callie says.

“Me, too,” I whisper.

“Me three. Having him around makes me miss Dad a little less,” Fee admits.

And my heart cracks in two all over again.

Roman returns with pizza, boneless chicken wings, and double-chocolate cake. The girls help set the table and dig in. Of course Roman knows all our favorites. Because he pays attention. Because he cares.

“Okay, let’s discuss what happened today that resulted in everyone in tears,” Roman says once we all have food.

“I’d like to hear your side of things, not just what I’ve been told by someone else,” I add.

Callie takes a deep breath. “Eddie has been chirping me a lot. He wants to be the goalie, but he’s not good enough. At first he would say things when I let a goal get by, but lately he’s started saying other stuff.”

“What kind of other stuff?” I ask.

She ducks her head and picks the burned cheese off her crust. “About me not having parents, and that they only made me goalie because they feel sorry for me.”

“Did you tell any of your coaches about this?” Roman, bless his gorgeous heart, looks like he wants to flip the table.

Callie shakes her head.

“Why not?” I ask.

“Because I don’t want to cry in front of my team. So I keep it inside until I’m in my bedroom, and then I let the feelings out,” she admits softly. “But today they came out in the wrong way, and now I’m in trouble.”

My stomach twists, and my heart squeezes. This poor little girl is struggling to keep it together, and I had no idea. “I can share this with your coaches, Callie. They should know what’s going on.”

“I don’t want it to get worse,” Callie admits.

“You’ve done a great job being level-headed on the ice,” I assure her, glancing at Roman, looking to him for support, for assurance, because I’m so new at this and he has experience I don’t.

He dips his chin in agreement. “It’s an important job when you’re the goalie.”

Callie peels a pepperoni off her pizza. “You never lose your cool.”

“I’ve had a lot of years to practice,” he reminds her. “And sometimes I do lose my cool. Ask Lexi. She’s had to school me more than once this season during practice.”

“Really?” Callie’s eyes are wide.

“A couple of times, sure. No one is perfect,” I explain. “I understand that you want to prove you deserve your place on the team, Callie, and that this boy is jealous because you have the position he wants. But not telling your coaches means he thinks what he’s doing is okay, and it’s not.”

“He makes me so angry I want to cry,” she says.

“Your teammates are supposed to be an extension of your family, so it’s okay to cry in front of them,” I explain.

“Tears make you human. And we all cry,” Roman adds.

“Even you?”

“Yup. Even me.” Roman turns his attention to Fee. “Your turn.”

She sinks in her chair. “Lexi can just tell you.”

“We’d prefer to hear your version,” I press. Having a partner to do this with is so much less stressful. I don’t feel like I’m second guessing every word that comes out of my mouth. And I trust that Roman will redirect if it’s necessary.

She sets her pizza on her plate and gives me an imploring look.

I shake my head. “Why don’t you want to explain what happened?”

“Because I feel stupid.”

“Callie, do you have ranch dressing?” Roman asks.

“I dunno.” She shrugs and lines all her pepperonis up on one end of her pizza. It’s what she always does.

“Can you check the fridge for me, please?” he asks.

“Okay.” She slips off her chair and heads for the kitchen. Roman waits until she’s out of earshot before he drops his voice and addresses Fee. “When I was your age, I got my high school girlfriend pregnant because neither of us thought to read the fine print on her birth control pills. So whatever life changing thing you think you did, I’m pretty sure I have you beat. Now, Peggy is hands down the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I wouldn’t change having her for the world, but it definitely would have been better for her if I’d been about ten years older and a lot more settled before I brought her into the world. However, that’s not how it went.”

I didn’t think I could find him more endearing, but this absolutely takes the cake.

Fee wrinkles her nose. “You were my age when Hammer was born?”

“I was eighteen. I’d just been drafted. It was quite the eventful year.” He leans back and crosses his arms. “The floor for questionable choices is now yours. See if you can one-up me.”

“I got caught with all my friends’ vapes in my backpack.”

Roman props his chin on his fist. “Why did you have all your friends’ vapes in your backpack?”

It’s the old repeat-the-statement-back-to-the-person trick.

She cringes. “Because I’m an idiot.”

“Try again.”

She sighs. “Because I wanted to fit in.”

“And do you fit in now?” He’s so calm about it. So unruffled.

Seeing him like this should not get me hot, especially under the circumstances, but damn, he’s good at this.

She focuses on her plate. “Only, like, one of the girls in the group has messaged, and it was to see if I still had their stuff.”

“They sound like a bunch of assholes and not great friends,” Roman observes.

“They’re not.” She sighs. “I don’t know where I fit anymore. I wanted to leave my old school because I was the girl whose parents died at the lake. And now I’m the girl who got caught with vapes.”

“Here’s the ranch dressing!” Callie plops back into her seat.

“Thanks, kiddo.” Roman winks, then looks to Fee. “Why don’t you just be you?”

“I don’t even know who that is anymore! Other than my fandom friends online, I don’t feel people at school even want to make room for new friends. I think those kids just want to be my friend because I get to hang out with you and the other guys on the Terror. I can’t talk about my weekends or who I’m with without it sounding like I’m bragging. Tally gets it, but no one else does, and she’s already in university, so we can’t hang out all the time. And it’s not like she wants to spend all her time with a high schooler. It’s my last year, and everything is hard, and I wanted it to be fun, but it’s the opposite.” She deflates like a balloon.

“Tally has been hanging out with my daughter and the other Terror women for the past two years. She was a high school senior last year, and my daughter, who will be twenty-two soon, spent loads of time with her. Very willingly. They’d happily welcome you, if that’s where you feel the most comfortable. Rix, Peggy, and Tally understand your situation, and it makes sense that you want to spend time with people who get you just as you are.”

“That’s all I want. Just for people to get me.” Fee turns to me. “I love you, and I’m super grateful that you let me and Callie come live with you, but things are so different. You’re not just my sister anymore. And then we moved, and I wanted it to be a fresh start, but sometimes I don’t know what to do with myself. I know you’re already stressed out because of this new job, and I didn’t want to add to it by dumping my problems on you.”

“Talking to me when you’re having a hard time isn’t dumping your problems on me. I’m here for you, both of you,” I assure her. “And I know our relationship has changed a lot, but I will always be here to help and listen. And Roman is right, the Terror girls are great, and if you want to spend more time with them, we can make that happen.”

“I think you and Peggy probably have more in common than you realize,” Roman says.

“Really? How?” Fee asks.

Roman tells her about how Peggy came to live with him when she was six, and she was basically raised by him and the team. He ended up hanging out with a lot of the older players who had families, because it made more sense after he had full custody of Peggy. Every word he speaks, every story he shares, every moment of connection he forms with my sisters winds him tighter around my heart.

“Did Peggy ever get in trouble?” Fee asks.

“Everyone gets in trouble. It’s about learning from your mistakes,” Roman replies.

“Did you ground her?” Callie asks, eyes wide.

“Depended on the circumstances. Sometimes I asked her what her punishment should be.”

The girls look to me. “Do you think we should try that?” I ask.

They glance at each other.

“It’s worth a shot,” Roman offers.

In the end, they’re harder on themselves than I ever would have been. Eventually I send them to their rooms because it’s getting late. Callie needs to go to bed, and Fee has homework. Callie is wiped from all the emotion, so it only takes one story for her to fall asleep.

“Why are you made of magic?” I ask Roman when I return to the kitchen and find the leftovers already put away and the dishes done.

“I have experience raising a girl in this environment. And I fully admit, I leveraged my power with them, which makes it easier. But you did great. You’re not failing, Lexi. Your instincts are spot on, and you love them so much. That’s what matters most.” He leans his hip against the counter. “I have a question, though, and it’s personal.”

“Okay.”

“Have the girls gone to therapy at all?”

“They did some grief counseling, but neither of them stuck with it,” I admit. It was tough that first year. I was pulled in so many different directions, and neither of them really connected to the grief counselor.

“I have a name of a great therapist. Peggy’s been seeing her for years, and she’s wonderful with kids. You have good coverage. It might be helpful for them to have a sounding board that isn’t their friends or you.”

I sigh. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I’ll suggest it.” It’s been on my mind a lot lately—not just for them, but for me, too. I saw someone back in Niagara, but not since I moved to Toronto.

“They know you love them,” he says. “And they adore you.” He runs his hands up and down my arms.

“Thank you. This is so hard. I sound like a broken record.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Shit. I have a strategy plan I need to finish for Vander Zee, and it’s already after eight. I was supposed to have it done before I left, and then all this happened.”

“I can help you.”

“You’ve already done more than enough tonight.”

He gazes down at me and the intensity makes my knees weak. “I’m already here, and I have twenty years of on ice experience. It’s okay to take advantage of me in this situation.” He smirks and winks.

I laugh and lift a hand to block out his face. “You have to behave yourself and not look at me like that.”

His fingers wrap around mine and he presses my palm to my chest. “Take me to your office, Coach.”

“Yes, Goalie.”

He makes a sound in the back of his throat and leans down until his lips are at my ear. “You know I’m keeping track of all your bad behavior so I can dole out your punishments one at a time when the season is finally over.”

‘Things to look forward to,” I murmur pushing the door to my office open. It’s so hard not to forget myself when we’re alone like this.

He frowns when he steps inside. “This is a storage closet, not an office.”

There’s not much room to turn around with the two of us in here, especially since Roman is so tall and broad. “It’s better than working in the living room or my bedroom.” I pat the executive chair. “Have a seat.”

“What about you?”

“I have a wobble stool under the desk.” I drag it out. It has a round bottom and I use it sometimes when I have more hours in a chair than I’d like.

‘I’ll take the stool, you sit in the chair.” He motions for me to sit. His expression doesn’t leave any room for argument.

It’s almost comical how much he dwarfs the stool. He moves in close, one arm stretched across the back of my chair as I pull up the strategy plan and try not to focus on how close Roman is.

He takes control of the mouse, scrolling through the document. ‘This is fantastic, Lexi. You’re capitalizing on everyone’s strengths, giving rookie players time on the ice, rotating in seasoned players to make sure the lines are balanced. It’s a top tier strategy plan. All it needs is a few minor tweaks and you’re good to go.”

His praise makes my heart race. Next season I won’t have to worry about being alone with him. We could do this together all the time. He could be my partner in all ways. “You really think so?” I turn to look at him.

“You’ve got this,” he assures me.

“It’s nice to hear it from you,” I admit.

His expression softens. “You are brilliant, Lexi. A born leader on the ice. That I get to witness you soar during my final year with the Terror is an absolute honor. This is just the beginning for you.”

“I couldn’t do any of this without you,” I whisper.

“You could and you have.” His gaze heats. “And if I didn’t want to fuck you senseless all the time, I’d be sorry that I don’t get to stick around to see you really shine.”

My breath leaves me on a whoosh. We’re so close. Inches apart. If either of us leaned in we could deal with the wild, unceasing chemistry between us. But we can’t. Not again.

His eyes slide closed. “Fuck. Sorry. I’m not doing a great job of being on my best behavior.” He shifts his position, removing his arm from the back of my chair and refocusing on the screen. “What’s your plan if we’re leading in the third period?”

It takes a moment to switch back into professional mode. “Rotate Ryker in, if we’re leading, Palaniappa and Grace on the same line as Madden to give us the best scoring shot and the strongest defense.”

“Excellent. That’s smart strategy. It works with the teams’ strengths.” His smile is beautiful and affirming and sparks the neediest places inside me.

“Thanks.” His pride settles the deepest fears in me. He makes me feel capable, strong, sure of my path.

“See? You didn’t need my help. Trust your gut.”

“But it’s nice to have someone to toss around ideas with. And even nicer to have you here.” I make the tweaks to the strategy plan and email them to Vander Zee.

Roman stands and holds out a hand, pulling me to my feet. He wraps his arms around me, and I do the same. We stand there for a long time, neither of us willing to let go. I feel his lips on my crown. “I have to go.”

“I know. I can walk you out.”

He cups my face in his hands, eyes roving hotly over my face. “It’s better if you don’t.”

“Are you okay?”

“Hitting my limit on self-control. Counting down the days until I don’t have to put up walls when I’m around you. Be a good girl and wait until you hear the door close.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “Night, angel.”

“Night, Roman. Thank you for everything.”

“Thank you for trusting me.” He leaves me standing in my office, heart drumming in my chest, body aching. We didn’t cross the line, though. It should feel like a win, but all it does is make me long for what could be, if we can just make it to the end of the season.