The Secret Play (Pucking Daddies #3)

27. Casey

Chapter 27

Casey

A sking Gemma to leave was the hardest thing I’d ever done.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her echoed in my head long after she was gone. Everything echoed, now that she was gone. My thoughts. The ticking clock on the wall. I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor. The weight of empty silence was unbearable.

I’d buried both of my parents in relatively quick succession. I’d stood at their graves and said my goodbyes, feeling like the foundation of my world had been pulled out from under me. Somehow, this felt just as bad. How was that even possible?

I loved her, right down to my marrow.

That thought circled in my mind, a vulture soaring over the corpse of my ability to think about anything else. I loved Gemma. I loved everything about her. I loved her fierce independence. That was what kept her going in LA as a single mom, doing everything on her own for five years.

As much as I hated that she had kept me from my daughter that whole time, I knew it was no cakewalk for her, either. She was alone for all the milestones. Had to do everything herself. Be everything by herself. She was all Winnie had. I couldn’t imagine that kind of pressure or how hard that must have been on her.

And yet, the pressure didn’t show itself in bitterness or resentment. She was still warm. Still easy-going. The little things didn’t bother her the way they did most people. Instead of becoming aggrieved, she turned that energy into warmth for everyone around her. She was friendly and outgoing in a way I admired. And she had a way of making people feel like they were worth knowing, a gift in her line of work.

And Winnie—God, Winnie. She was bright and funny and sweet, and the thought of all the years I’d missed with her was enough to bring me to my knees. I didn’t know how to get past that loss, or if it was even possible to get past something like that.

And that was my flaw.

Love wasn’t enough right now to push me past that pain, which meant I wasn’t enough for them right now. Holding onto that anger made me weak, and they didn’t deserve that. I didn’t know how to be what they needed me to be, and the uncertainty was eating me alive.

I needed to get out of my own head, even if just for a little while. If I stared at the same four walls all night long again, I’d go crazy. The relentless quiet of my house was more than I could take. So I grabbed my jacket and headed to Smokey’s, the kind of bar where the lights were dim, the drinks were strong, and everyone loved hockey.

Gabriel Moreau was a right winger out of Alberta, and when he came to Atlanta, he had opened Smokey’s. His son, Xavi, was a great defender for the Fire, so between the two of them, they had plenty of real memorabilia on the walls of the bar. The place was otherwise wooden—the floor, the walls, the bar itself. All highly polished and well-maintained. The perfect place for a drink after a long day.

Maybe it was the post-sex haze, but I’d forgotten the guys would be here to celebrate going for the Cup.

Smokey’s was overtaken by a raucous party. Beers and cheers in every direction. Sliding onto a stool at the bar, I nodded at Gabe and ordered a whiskey. The first sip burned going down, but I welcomed the sting.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a few of the guys from the team sitting at a table in the back, laughing and talking. Some flirted with the puck bunnies that hung around the bar, just waiting for my players to show up. None of them had seen me yet, and I wasn’t in the mood to join them. They were celebrating, while I was…well, I just needed a quiet drink, and a little time to let the noise in my head die down.

I was halfway through my second whiskey when a woman slid onto the stool next to me. She was tall and slim, with dark hair and a confident smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Before Gemma came along, I might have been interested. Now, she was just a pretty woman, and the world was full of those.

“Rough night?” she asked, her voice smooth and casual, as if she hadn’t just arched her back a little to thrust her breasts into the conversation.

“I’ve had rougher.”

“You don’t seem like the Smokey’s type.”

I glanced at her then, raising an eyebrow. She was a little older than most of the crowd. Like me. As far as I could see, neither of us belonged at Smokey’s. “And what’s Smokey’s type?”

“No one drinks alone in a place like this,” she said, smiling as she motioned to the bar around us.

I huffed a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “Maybe I’m just bad at blending in. Never really mastered the skill.”

Her smile lingered, and I turned back to my drink, hoping she’d take the hint. Sadly, she didn’t. “So, what brings you here?”

“Just needed a drink.”

“Alone?” she pressed, her tone shifting to something more suggestive. She rested her hand on my forearm.

Before I could respond, an enormous man appeared behind her, his expression hard and his size imposing between us. “You hitting on my girl?”

I turned slowly, meeting his glare with a calmness I didn’t feel. Must have been the whiskey doing its job. If he slugged me, I’d probably fall right off the stool. Right now, I didn’t care that much. The truth was, the moment I realized I wasn’t good enough for Gemma and Winnie, I had given up.

I wanted to figure something out, but the questions kept coming, and I had no answers. So, letting this guy beat the tar out of me sounded like as good a plan as any other.

But he was huge, and I liked my teeth. “Not hitting on her, no. We were just talking.”

“Didn’t look like just talking to me. Looked to me like you were touching her.”

“I wasn’t touching her. She was touching me,” I said, holding up a hand. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“Too late for that,” he said, raising his fist.

Before the guy could take a swing, someone caught his wrist. “Hey!”

I turned to see Nico and a few of the guys from the team standing nearby, their expressions just as hard as the gorilla threatening me.

“That’s our coach,” Nico said, releasing his wrist. “You got a problem with him, you got a problem with all of us. I don’t think you want a problem with all of us, do ya, pal?”

“Coach? What are you, some kinda cheerleading squad?”

Luke stepped up to him, big guy to big guy. “We’re the fucking Atlanta Fire, asshole. You wanna fight a hockey team? And their fans?”

It was then I realized the whole bar had watched this play out. The music had died. Gabe stood behind the bar, baseball bat in hand, ready to jump in. Xavi had popped behind the bar to grab a stick off the display over the cash register. Every person in this bar was ready to jump in.

The man’s jaw clenched as he assessed his odds. Glancing at the group of large, imposing hockey players, as well as an entire bar staring him down must have shaken him out of his fighting stupor. He muttered something under his breath, grabbed the woman’s arm, and stormed out of the bar.

The music came back on, and Gabe shouted, “Free round on the house!” which lightened everybody’s mood, turning things back to the party atmosphere his place was famous for.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, turning to face the guys. “Thanks.”

Nico shrugged and clapped my shoulder. “We’ve got your back, Coach.”

At their table, the guys settled into their chairs, waving for me to join them. I hesitated for a moment before grabbing my drink and heading over. They’d just saved my ass, so my inclination was to go to them. But things had been weird for a while now, and I wasn’t sure what was best for the team.

For the sake of good manners, I joined them.

Luke grinned. “Didn’t think we’d see you here tonight.”

“Didn’t think I’d be here,” I admitted, sinking into a chair.

Nico leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” How was I supposed to tell him that his sister had the unfortunate habit of shredding my heart? Or that I wasn’t worthy of her and Winnie? There were some things you couldn’t say to a group of guys. One-on-one, maybe. But not to a group and definitely not to my players. I had to keep some level of decorum.

“You know,” Luke said, “we’re still behind you, Coach. Even with…everything.”

I looked around the table, the sincerity in their faces and nods hitting me harder than I expected. It was odd, but I believed them. “I appreciate that.”

“Yeah,” Nico added. “We’re a family. You can get mad at family, but at the end of the day, you’re still there for each other.”

The word family stuck in my head, looping over and over like a broken record. Especially after hearing it from him. After losing my folks, the team had been my family, my anchor, the thing that kept me grounded. But now, the word meant something entirely different.

Because when I heard that word, Gemma and Winnie’s faces came to mind. Family meant the life I’d been too afraid to embrace. Not just afraid, but stubborn, too. I’d dug my heels in about missing those years with Winnie, and what had that gotten me?

I was alone in a bar, nursing my feelings, when I could have been spending time with my girls. If Gemma didn’t hate me for turning her out.

I sat there with the team, their laughter and banter drowning out the music, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the empty house I’d left earlier that night. To the woman I couldn’t stop loving, and the daughter I couldn’t stop aching for.

And for the first time, I wondered if I’d ever figure out how to bridge the gap between the life I had and the one I wanted.