If You Love Me: Chapter 28

I head down the hall to Hammer’s office. Callie’s hockey practice was canceled because there’s a problem with the rink. The cancellation email popped up just before I went into a meeting. Fee has dance rehearsals, so Hammer graciously offered to pick Callie up and bring her here.

My heart stutters when I reach her office and take in the scene before me. It’s a snapshot of what the future could look like. Hammer sits behind her desk, typing away on her computer. Callie is seated at the small conference table homework spread out, a carton of chocolate milk and a half-eaten scone from the bakery across the street on a napkin next to her. And beside her is Roman, arm stretched across the back of her chair while they work through her math problems.

How would Hammer react if she found out we’ve been lying to her and everyone else? It makes me feel like trash, especially with the way this team, and especially the women on staff, have showed up for me and the girls since we joined the Terror family. The fear of losing all of this is terrifying.

I push those thoughts away. The end of the season is coming, and with that will be freedom. “Hey, how’s it going?”

All three heads turn my way.

“Lexi!” Callie’s chair screeches obnoxiously across the floor and she rushes over, throwing her arms around me. “Hammer and Roman picked me up from school! And the head secretary took pictures with Roman, and he gave autographs and everything. We stopped at a bakery, and I tried a scone. And Roman has been helping me with math and I’m almost finished with all my homework! Roman said you have ice time with Connor Grace soon. Can I come to the rink and watch you practice?” She’s flying high on the thrill of it all.

“Wow! Sounds like an eventful afternoon, of course you can come to the rink.”

“Yay! I’ll pack up my stuff!” She bounces back to the table.

“Thank you.” I glance between Hammer and Roman. “Both of you. I really appreciate you coming to the rescue.”

“It was really no problem,” Hammer says with a smile.

“Gave me an excuse to spend some time with Peggy and my favorite goalie before we hit the ice.” Roman winks at Callie who beams up at him.

I move in to help put her things back in her pencil case. The guilt is real and heavy as Hammer comes around to help, too.

“I’ll see you before the game?” Hammer asks her dad.

“Absolutely, kiddo.”

He gives her a hug and she kisses his cheek.

Callie skips over to Hammer and wraps her arms around her waist. “Thanks for picking me up, and for bringing Roman with you.”

“It was my pleasure. Next time you come to a game we’ll sit together in the box, okay?” Hammer asks.

“Okay!”

Callie slips her hand into mine and Roman slings her backpack over his shoulder. It’s comically small compared to the size of him.

“See you later!” I glance over my shoulder to find Hammer smiling softly.

And I wonder, again, how upset she would be if she knew the truth.

“I’m going to watch the game at home tonight. Or at least the first period and maybe part of the second because I have school tomorrow and if I stay up late, I’m grumpy the next day.”

“I get grumpy when I stay up late, too,” Roman commiserates.

“You do? I’ve never seen you be grumpy. Except on the ice when someone scores on you. I don’t like it when someone scores on me either.”

We round the corner and my stomach lurches as Donnie walks out of Thomas’s office. His eyebrows rise as he takes in the three of us, walking down the hall together, Roman still holding Callie’s backpack.

“Hey, Donnie. How’s it going?” Roman is all smiles and friendliness.

I’m in a mild panic spiral, worried that Donnie will jump to accurate conclusions.

“Good, good.” He nods slowly, attention shifting to me. “Forrester, I think there’s an error in the system. Roman’s equipment is logged under you this afternoon.”

“It’s not an error. I’m heading to the rink shortly with Hammerstein and a couple of the enforcers for a little extra practice.”

“Right before a game? Shouldn’t the guys be resting up?” he asks.

“We’ll be fine,” Roman assures him. “I’m going to head down to suit up.” He passes Callie her backpack. “I’ll see you down, there, okay?”

“Okay! Thanks for helping me with my math homework.”

“Anytime, kiddo.” Roman turns to Donnie. “You coming to the game tonight?”

“Sure am.”

“See you there.” He waves and heads down the hall.

“You have a minute?” Donnie asks.

“Sure.” My mouth is suddenly bone dry. “Callie, why don’t you drop your backpack in my office.”

“Okay!” She skips down the hall.

He waits until she disappears into my office. “I see what’s going on here.”

Heat rushes down my spine. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You’ve got our goalie helping your kid with homework?”

“Callie is my sister.”

“Right. Whatever. You’re clearly taking a page from the other office girls.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Never mind.” He shakes his head. “Just remember, everything has to be inventoried properly for cleaning. When you go around Boxer, it becomes your responsibility.”

Before I can explain that I didn’t go around Boxer, he turns and walks away.

His insinuation hits hard, mainly because there’s merit in it. Is that what everyone else will see next season when we’re together? That I was just after a player? But I don’t have time to fixate on it, because I need to get on the ice.

Callie sits in the seats behind the bench, thrilled to watch her favorite players practice. She’s all waving arms and excitement as Grace skates over to accept a hug from her.

“Shouldn’t she be at practice?” Grace asks.

“They had an issue with the rink,” I explain.

“Ahh, well, that sucks.”

“This seems like a decent consolation prize.”

We start with a short warm-up before we move into more complicated stick work. It’s no longer enough to be fast and agile. Stick work is where it’s at.

While Roman has years of experience to help anticipate what’s coming at him, Ryker has exceptional agility and the ability to read a player’s intentions before he makes the move. It’s why Vander Zee brought him to the team. And why we’re on the ice hours before a game, hoping to put Ryker in net for the third period.

As much as Grace can be a brute, the guy is fucking magical with stick and puck handling. He can catch a puck midair, flip it, deke around another player, and nab it out of the air before shooting at the net. It’s pretty damn spectacular.

I’m about to tell Ryker to protect his left shoulder, because I see what Grace is planning, when Roman shouts, “Ryker, your five hole!”

The puck goes sailing past Ryker’s left ear.

I blow the whistle directly at Roman.

He raises both hands. “Sorry, Coach.”

“Can you repeat that for me, please, Goalie?”

The corner of his mouth twitches, like he’s trying not to react. But I see the heat in his eyes and hope like hell no one else can. “I’m sorry, Coach Forrester.” His voice is all gravel.

I stay firmly in coach mode, the interaction with Donnie still sitting heavy in stomach. “Don’t apologize to me; apologize to Ryker for giving him the wrong cue. You know as well as I do that Grace doesn’t need to wait until the puck hits the ice to shoot it. Those fractions of a second are all it takes for your opposition to score a goal and put our team at a disadvantage.”

Roman lowers his head in deference. “Sorry, Ryker. That goal is on me.”

I give Roman my back. “Ryker, if Hammerstein hadn’t been playing armchair coach, what would your instincts have told you to do?”

“Protect my left side, because Grace has mad stick-handling skills, and he was moving right, which tells me he’ll likely try to fake me out.”

“Good call. Trust your gut, Ryker.” I toss a puck to Grace. “Let’s try that again.”

The rest of the session goes smoothly, and I’m feeling positive when the guys hit the locker room.

Dred stops by to pick up Callie and brings me a sandwich so I’m going into the game tonight with food in my stomach. I’m lucky to have made such wonderful, supportive friends.

We still have a few hours before the game, so I decide to head up to my office to review strategy. If all goes well, we’ll pull out a win tonight against Philly.

“Forrester, I’d like to speak with you,” Vander Zee barks.

Heat works its way up my spine and my stomach twists at the look on his face. I step inside the office. “Sure. What can I do for you?”

“Did you come from the ice?”

“Yes, sir.”

He crosses his arms. “Why wasn’t that run by me first?”

“I checked with Boxer⁠—”

He cuts me off. “I’ve already talked to Boxer about this. You’re an assistant coach, Boxer is the goalie coach, I am the head coach. If you want to put guys on the ice for extra practice on a game day, you run it by me first. Boxer might agree that the guys need the time, but the final say is ultimately mine. Don’t go around me again, do you understand?”

If I could sink into the floor I would. “Of course, sir. I’m sorry. I just…I thought…I’m so sorry. My intention wasn’t to go over your head on this. I honestly just wanted to give Grace a little more time to work on stick handling.”

“I know you’re working hard to prove yourself, but this isn’t the way to do it. I’m always the last person to sign off on things like this. These guys get on the ice in a few hours. They need to be rested, and they need time to get into the right mental headspace.”

“It won’t happen again, sir,” I promise.

“It better not. I expect you to learn from your mistakes.” He taps his pen agitatedly on his desk. “Go review game strategy. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Yes, sir.” I leave his office, feeling a lot like I might vomit.

I stop at Boxer’s office and knock on his door. He looks up from the papers on his desk and his expression turns to empathy. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. “Come in and close the door.”

I do as he asks. “I’m so sorry. I did not mean to get you in trouble.”

He raises a hand. “This is on me. I assumed you’d already cleared it with Vander Zee when you suggested the extra ice time.”

“I got ahead of myself,” I admit. It was a stupid error. One I wish I could take back.

He rubs his chin. “We all fuck up, Forrester. Don’t be too hard on yourself. I know Vander Zee’s approval is important to you like it is to all of us, but the world isn’t going to end over one mistake. Learn from it and move on, okay? Chin up. You got this.”

I nod. “Thank you. I’m still sorry. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

“I know you won’t. Go get your head on straight and be ready for game time.”

I leave his office and head down the hall to my own.

Despite Boxer’s kind words, being chewed out by my boss and mentor puts me in a bad headspace. I should have double checked and not made assumptions. That paired with the conversation with Donnie has me on edge. And it feels like a punishment when I get to watch the game from the box instead of behind the bench. By the third period, we’re down two goals and Ryker is in net. They start out strong and close the lead by one goal, but it all goes sideways and Ryker misreads a shot on net, giving Philly back the two goal lead.

Vander Zee puts Roman back in net, but the damage is done, and the Terror can’t recover. We lose the game, and I feel responsible. I overtaxed our goalies and best defensive players and lost us the game. Vander Zee is in a particularly somber mood during the post-game team talk. I keep my mouth shut.

“Lesson learned, I guess,” Thomas mutters, wearing the same black cloud as Vander Zee.

“It’ll be all right,” Boxer assures me.

“I’m still sorry.” He might feel some kind of responsibility for this, but I’m the reason we lost this game.

Roman tries to make eye contact. He doesn’t look particularly happy about the loss either, but his brow is furrowed in concern. I don’t want to draw more attention to myself, so I stay focused on my clipboard while Vander Zee talks about being game ready and in the right physical and mental state for the game.

Hemi and the girls invite me to the Watering Hole, but I’m barely holding it together, so I decline the offer. I need to get home so I can have a little emotional breakdown. And Dred is with the girls, she came over to help Fee with an essay. I’ve told her she doesn’t need to stay until I get home, but she often does anyway.

I drive home on auto pilot and manage to get the car parked before I lose it. My phone keeps buzzing with new messages.

The Babe chat is full of sympathy messages over the game and virtual hugs that the next one will be better.

Dred sent a picture of a gorgeous bouquet of flowers and a wrapped gift followed by the message:

That just makes the tears fall harder. I need to get my shit together. Fee can’t see me like this post a bad game. But I’m spiraling, and there’s only one person I want, and I can’t have him.

Roman has sent me a slew of messages:

Instead of sending him a message, I call.

“I’m so sorry,” I croak. For not being strong enough to sort out my own shit, for compromising the game, for needing him. “I hardly deserve flowers after tonight.”

“Those were for playing armchair coach with Ryker earlier. But Lexi, angel, this is not your fault,” he says gently.

“I’m the one who put you on the ice too close to game time, so it is most definitely on me.” I hiccup and dash away the tears.

“I’m coming over,” he states.

“You can’t. Dred is here and Fee will ask questions and I can’t be trusted with you right now,” I admit. “I won’t want you to leave, and that is definitely not something I can explain to Fee or Callie. I fucked up so hard today, Roman. What if I can’t do this? What if I’m not cut out for this job?”

“You are absolutely cut out for this job. This is not our first loss and it won’t be the last. You’re building rapport with Grace and Ryker. They’re seasoned players who will be there next year, and that’s bigger than one game. Vander Zee is upset about not being in the loop, and that’s on all of us who have been doing this job far longer than you and didn’t ask the right questions.”

I hiccup again. “I made the mistake.”

“You’re a first year assistant coach, of course you’re going to make mistakes. But it wasn’t because your heart or your head was in the wrong place, Lexi. You care. You’re an amazing coach. I know you feel bad, but don’t let this shake your confidence.”

“I don’t feel like an amazing coach.”

“Fuck. I hate that I can’t be there with you. I wish you would have waited for me so we could have this conversation in person and not over the phone. I just want to hold you.”

“The end of the season seems so far away,” I whisper. He’s the only person I don’t have to be strong with all the time. With Roman I can be afraid, and uncertain. I don’t have to fake confidence. I can share my fears and worries, and I know he’ll be there to talk them through. I can let go of all my careful control, give myself over completely and feel safe and cared for.

“What do you need? What can I do for you?”

“I don’t know. I just need…” Him. “I’m trying so hard not to need you.”

“I know. It goes both ways. We could have a night. Just to get us through the next few months. I can take you somewhere private and secluded. We have three days between this game and the next. We can go north, get out of the city, just you and me. Let me take care of you. I can’t carry the responsibilities for you, but I can give you a break from them. Give us both something to hold on to while we wait the season out.”

“I want that so much,” I admit. Dred will stay with the girls if I ask.

“It’s okay to want something for yourself, Lexi. I need you as much as you need me. Please let me do this for us.”

Roman commands, orders, directs, but this gentle request is what tips me over the edge. I can’t say no, and I don’t want to. “Yes. Okay. Let me talk to Dred.”

“Good girl,” Roman replies in that tone that promises a reprieve from the painful longing.

“She’s with the girls now. I’ll go up and clear it with her. I’ll message soon.”

“Okay. Deep breaths, angel. Soon you’ll be all mine.”

I make the trip up to the condo, already relieved that I don’t have to wait another three months before I feel his arms around me. It’s been so hard to be just the assistant coach. For one night I won’t have to fit inside a box. I can be Roman’s and he can be mine.

I let myself into the condo and Dred pokes her head around the corner.

“Are the girls asleep?” I ask quietly.

She gives me two thumbs up, but her expression shifts to concern. “Are you okay? Oh my gosh, is this about the game?” She opens her arms and I accept the hug.

I explain what happened and how my mistake cost us the game.

“I think it’s easy to blame yourself, but the four guys you had ice time with do not make up the entire roster of players on the ice tonight.”

“I feel responsible. Vander Zee has never been that…upset with me and it just hit differently.” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Roman wants to take me away for a night.”

She doesn’t even hesitate. “I’ll stay with the girls.”

I fiddle with the end of my braid. “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

Her expression fills with empathy. “I think you deserve a night off from being responsible all the time. I also think you both need this time.”

“I really do,” I admit. “I need him. The end of the season is too far away.”

“I’ve got you. Your secret is safe with me.”