If You Love Me: Chapter 32

This has become a regular habit of Roman’s. He sends me texts about my outfit, his future plans for getting me out of it, and how it could happen sooner if he retires early, all while we’re standing right beside each other. It would be an appealing option if it wouldn’t break the entire team’s heart. I’m about to say something, but the elevator doors slide open.

I almost opt for the stairs because Donnie is leaning against the wall inside the elevator. But Roman steps inside and puts his hand over the sensor, so I have no choice but to join him. Donnie glances between us and says hello.

I smile and say hi, moving to stand on the opposite side of the elevator.

“How you doing, Donnie?” Roman asks, always the conversationalist.

“Good. Getting close to the end of the season. How are you feeling about that?” he asks.

Roman pockets his phone. “Good. Ryker has really stepped up, and he’ll be ready to take over come fall. Coach Forrester has been instrumental in making sure the defensive players are prepared for the shift.”

Donnie’s gaze slides my way. “I’m sure you’ve made that easier, seeing how involved you are.”

Roman narrows his eyes. “I’ve always worked closely with the enforcers. It’s a symbiotic relationship.”

“Yeah, of course. Gotta work together to keep the team strong.” Donnie seems to backtrack a little.

The elevator doors open, and all three of us step into the hall.

Donnie dips his chin. “Have a good day. You know where to find me if you need anything.”

“Sure do,” Roman replies.

Donnie disappears around the corner, and Roman turns to me, but before he can say anything, Hemi appears.

“Lexi! Hey, Roman.” Her smile widens.

“Hey, Hemi. See you on the ice later.” Roman touches my shoulder before heading down the hall to Vander Zee’s office.

“Sure thing.” I wave and focus on Hemi. “How’s it going?”

“Fine. Good. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you and Roman.”

I wave the comment away. “You didn’t. What’s up?”

“I was just talking to Hammer about lunch today. If you’re around, you should join us.”

“I’d love that. What time are you thinking?”

“How’s one-ish? I’m heading to a promo op with Hammer now, but we’ll be back by noon.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“I’ll pop by when I’m back.” Hemi heads down the hall, and I go to my office to check emails and review the plan for today’s practice. At ten, I stop by the break room to make myself a coffee before I meet with Vander Zee and the other coaches.

Donnie walks in as I finish doctoring up my coffee. “Hey, how’s your morning?” I ask. It doesn’t hurt to be pleasant.

“Decent. Yours?”

“Good. I should get back to it.” And away from him and his gray-cloud aura. I turn toward the door.

“You should be careful, Coach Forrester,” he says to my back.

I stop and turn to face him. “I’m sorry?”

He arches a brow. “I’m not the only one who sees what you’re doing.”

I force myself to remain impassive. “Excuse me?”

“You and all your office friends.”

I hate that he’s jumping to conclusions and that they’re accurate. “They’re my colleagues, and yours.”

“And they’re all involved with players. You taking notes?”

“Why are you⁠—”

He cuts me off. “I’m not the only person who’s noticed. People are talking. Especially about you and the goalie.”

“I work with the defensive players.” Sweat trickles down my spine. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe it’s nothing but jealousy. I have the job he wants.

He scoffs. “You think we don’t see what’s going on? You aren’t the only woman who applied for the job. Which shouldn’t be a surprise after the past couple of years. The new PR girl is the daughter of the goalie and dating Hendrix. Head of PR is engaged to a player, and the team lawyer is married to one of your enforcers. It’s like a fucking incest fest in here, and management signs off on the paperwork. And then you come in with your rise-from-the-ashes story.” He crosses his arms. “I mean, honestly, I can’t blame you. Roman is a stand-up guy. Fucking dad of the year, managing to keep his shit together when his best friend starts dating his daughter. Pretty much a saint, if you ask me. Twenty-year career. A veteran in the league. Must have at least fifty mil in his bank account.”

My stomach twists. I thought we were being careful, that we had a plan, but everything he’s saying is exactly what I was afraid of. “You’re out of li⁠—”

He holds up a hand. “Don’t try to deny. He threw your sister a damn birthday party. You’re with him and his crew all the time. I’m not stupid. And neither is the rest of management. And when I tell them what’s going on, what’s been going on, your coaching career is over. Enjoy what’s left of it.” He brushes by, leaving me reeling.

He’s right, except about the birthday party. That was Tristan’s doing, and everyone pitched in. Not that he’ll care. He’s clearly determined to take me down any way he can.

There is nothing worse than a coach who gets involved with a player. I knew this. Know this. And I did it anyway.

And now I stand to lose everything.

My dignity included.