Chapter 50: Puck Me Secretly: Chapter 49

I SNUGGLED my back harder against Max’s chest, loving the way his heat and strength enveloped me.

“Remember when we were in North Dakota?”

“I’ll never forget.”

“I asked why you worked so hard on the plane to calm me down and make my last few moments good even when you didn’t believe we’d live.”

“I remember.”

“Do you remember what your answer was?”

“Tell me.”

“You told me it was for atonement. Do you remember that?”

“Yup.”

“What did you mean?”

He took his time answering. “I guess I’m looking for redemption.”

I twisted in his arms, so my face was inches from his. “For what?”

He held my gaze but didn’t answer.

I placed the palm of my hand flat on his cheek. “Tell me.”

“For being born? For ruining my mom’s life? For not giving up hockey for her? For being selfish?”

“Max.” I sounded anguished. “You’re not responsible.”

He dropped his gaze, avoiding my eyes. “I’m starving. Want to order dinner?”

I lay there, feeling helpless, as he rolled over and got out of bed. Did he know? Did he understand that what happened to his mom wasn’t his fault? So much emotion rolled through me, I thought my chest would burst. It took all my effort not to blurt out the words, I love you.

I sat up. I loved Max. My heart pounded in my chest. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Max and I had only started to date. Love wasn’t supposed to happen this fast. But I loved him with my entire heart and I knew I would do anything for this man. Did he want the same thing? Or would my heart get crushed in this situation?

“Are you okay?”

I raised my eyes to Max, who watched me as he pulled on his pants. “What?”

“You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I’m okay.”

I realized that I’m head over heels in love with you. No biggie.

“Come on, let’s order food. I’m starving.”

I flopped back onto the bed. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

I knew one thing. This would be complicated.

MAX HEAPED his third helping of pasta onto his plate. I had long finished eating and now I sat, watching him eat. Every movement he made, the color of his eyes, the size of his hands, the way he sighed when he was enjoying his meal—all of it. I loved. There was nothing about this man I didn’t adore.

Why hadn’t I seen this coming? I worked to contain my feelings. I needed to act normal. I never wanted him to suspect how I felt about him.

He smirked at me. “You’ve been staring at me for this entire meal. What’s up?”

My skin flushed. “Have I been staring?”

“You know you have.”

“It’s that calendar,” I lied. “It gives me dirty thoughts.”

His fork hovered between his plate and his lips. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. Really dirty.”

The fork hit the plate, and he moved around the island with remarkable speed. He grabbed my hands and walked backwards towards the bedroom.

“What about your dinner?”

“I can heat it up.”

THE NEXT MORNING, I was heading home after a shower with Max that would be burned in my memory for the rest of my life.

“You sure you don’t need a ride?” Max hovered over me in the doorway.

“I’m sure. You need to get to practice, and we don’t want my dad to see who is dropping me off.”

His mouth covered mine. He tasted like minty Max. I moaned. “I love this.”

He pulled back and his blue eyes pinned mine. “Thanks for the date.”

“I’ll see you later.”

Halfway to the elevator, his voice sounded behind me. “Hey girlfriend.”

I spun around. “You talking to me?”

“See any other hotties around here?”

My cheeks hurt from how hard I smiled. “What?”

“See you later.”

Oh yup. This was going to get really complicated.

ON MY WAY HOME, I stopped off at the shops to pick up a few things. My phone rang as I climbed back into a cab.

Brian (lawyer) calling.

“Hello?”

“Rory, the police have arrested one of our players for sexual assault.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m on the way to the central police station downtown. Your dad will meet us there. Can you join us?”

I leaned forward and gave the cab driver instructions. “When did it happen?”

“The assault happened last night, but they recently picked up the player and are bringing him downtown to the station.”

“What about the media?”

“They’re all over this. They got a tip off before the arrest and have footage of him being led to the police car.”

“Oh shit. How’s the victim?”

“She’s at the hospital. Talking to the police. She is refusing a rape kit.”

“What? Why?”

“She is traumatized and refusing treatment but the doctors say they have up to 96 hours to collect evidence.”

“Okay. I’m five minutes out, where are you?”

“Approaching the station. The media is going ballistic. Try coming in through one of the side doors. I’ll meet you inside.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

“Yup.”

“Wait,” I asked before he disconnected. “Which player?”

“Max Logan.” He disconnected.