Chapter 2
I watch as Connor’s gaze lands on my bare ring finger then shoots up to meet mine. His hazel eyes are wide, full of questions, but he doesn’t deserve the answers to them. He doesn’t deserve to know anything about me anymore.
Our eyes stay locked together for a beat too long, my attention transfixed on the gold rings around his pupils that I spent endless nights memorizing as a teen. It’s been two years since I’ve seen him, and yet I could still tell you everything there is to know about Connor Smith.
Do not go there, Avery.
Shaking myself out of the painful memories, I grab my drink and take a long, slow sip. I’m pretending to rehydrate but really I’m trying to buy myself some time to recover after that near fainting spell so I can quickly make my escape and get away from this man.
I keep my straw in my mouth long after I’m done drinking and turn my attention to the party around us. Dozens of people fill the backyard, all of them laughing or talking with joyous looks on their faces.
The Green Bay Bobcats made headlines this past season after a scandal led to them firing their coaching staff and quite a few people in management.
Ellie Montgomery was hired as the second-ever female assistant coach in the NHL, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t absolutely ecstatic to be working for the same team as her.
She probably doesn’t remember me but I played against her my freshmen year of college.
I shouldn’t admit this, but watching her dangle around my teammates was mesmerizing.
My eyes land on Ellie and a small group of women.
I did my best to study up on the Bobcats staff when I was hired last week as the new play-by-play commentator for the team, but I’m having trouble putting names to faces.
Connor must be watching me because I hear his smooth voice start to name the group of ladies I’m looking at.
“That’s Ellie, our assistant coach, Sadie, our health and wellness coach who you just met, Sloane, our head athletic trainer, and Katie, the new team psychologist.”
Not daring to look his way, I keep my eyes trained on the women when I respond.
“It’s amazing how many women are on the staff here.
I was the only woman on the Archers’ staff, and I was basically at the bottom of the food chain.
” It’s impossible to hide the disgust in my voice at the last part of my statement.
Connor hums next to me.
Before he can comment on my pitiful confession about my last job, I ask him a question. “Are they treated well?”
When he doesn’t respond, I turn my head the slightest bit to catch a glimpse of him and notice his head is tilted, creases between his eyebrows as he tries to understand what I just asked.
Nodding to the group of women, I rephrase my question. “The women. Do the players and other staff members treat them with respect? I saw the article about that asshole assistant coach who got fired. I guess I’m wondering if there are other misogynistic men like him within the organization?”
Connor huffs a laugh under his breath. “Grayson? God, no. He’s the worst of the worst. And the team loves every single one of those women like they’re family. Because that’s what we are here in Green Bay. Family.”
There’s a hidden meaning behind his words that I refuse to decipher, but I can’t fight the feeling of loneliness that stabs me in the chest.
Back in St. Louis, I thought that’s exactly what I was starting: a family. Little did I know that was all a figment of my imagination. My eyes sting as tears threaten to form and I slam my eyes shut, forcing the unwelcome emotion down.
You are better off without him.
“Avery.”
Connor’s voice is softer this time, pleading even. As much as I don’t want to, I’m desperate to look at him again and hear what he has to say next. Opening my eyes slowly to ensure no tears spill, I finally turn my body to give Connor my full attention and get this conversation over with.
“What is it, Connor? I’d like to go meet my coworkers and introduce myself before they start calling me ‘the girl who almost fainted at a barbecue.’”
“Coworkers?” Confusion coats every syllable, as if Connor has no idea I work for his team now. Does he really not know?
Lifting one leg so it’s resting in front of me on the bench, I clasp my hands together and rest them on top.
“Um, yeah. Didn’t Ellie tell everyone I’m the new play-by-play commentator for your team? I thought that’s why she invited me here.”
I watch as the realization finally sinks in.
Connor’s shoulders slowly relax and the corner of his mouth tips up.
He’s failing miserably to hide a smirk, and I wish he’d do a better job of it because I may not like this man anymore, but there’s no denying how handsome he is.
His dark brown hair is cut short on the sides with it a little longer on the top.
It sits textured and a little unruly, the front pushed up the slightest bit.
I always envied how pretty Connor was. He literally can use barely any product, run his hands through his hair, and look like he just walked off the cover of GQ magazine.
Trying to do my best to go unnoticed, I quickly take in the rest of him.
His sharp-cut jawline is as perfect as ever, but I’m seeing it for the first time covered in a dusting of facial hair.
It’s not a beard by any means but it makes him look rugged and rough around the edges, just like he plays on the ice. I wonder if it’s soft or scratchy?
Before I can contemplate that question any further, Connor’s small smirk stretches into a full-blown smile. God, he has a lovely smile.
Wait. Why is he smiling?
My gaze shoots up from his jawline to his eyes and the look he’s giving me tells me he knows I was checking him out. His cocky attitude is a nice reminder that this man infuriates me, and no matter how handsome he is, I can never go there again.
“She did mention our new commentator played for Wisconsin, but I didn’t think it would be you. I never imagined you would leave St. Louis…”
His words trail off, and I watch as his expression changes in the blink of an eye. Tight jaw, flexing, as if it’s a struggle to get the next words out.
“Or Bryan.”
And now I understand why he was probably grinding his teeth. The mention of my ex-husband sends a chill down my spine and I immediately shut down.
I don’t want to talk about Bryan. Especially not with Connor.
Doing my best to find the confident woman I once was, I steal my spine and fake it until I can no longer make it.
“Well, that’s because you don’t know me anymore, Connor.”
Connor rears back like I’ve physically slapped him.
If it were anyone else, I might feel bad.
But he did this. He ended our relationship a decade ago.
He showed up to all of the summer reunions with our high school friends and acted like nothing ever happened.
He left me behind and started a new life.
Then, he completely walked away two years ago and never looked back.
I swing my legs over the bench and stand up from the picnic table. When I turn to grab my cup and purse, Connor reaches out and grabs my hand.
His palm settles against mine. Warm, steady, too achingly familiar. His fingers are rough against my skin, calloused in a way that makes my chest tighten before I can stop it.
“Avery, wait. You should sit down. You almost f—”
Rage cuts through the moment like a blade.
I yank my hand back. “No. You don’t get to tell me what to do.
You don’t know what’s best for me, and you don’t get to act like you care.
You’ve made it very clear you want nothing to do with me, so let’s not pretend things are different just because I’m working for the team now. ”
My pulse is hammering. Not just from my anger or health, but from him. From the way his hand had felt like it still belonged there for half a second too long, messing with my emotions and mind.
I force myself to grab my things, wiping the sensation off my skin like I can erase it.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, there are some people I’d like to meet.”
“He did not point to you while singing ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You.’” Ellie chokes out a laugh while attempting to wipe up the drink she just spewed everywhere.
Sloane’s expression doesn’t change. As serious as a judge in court, she looks Ellie straight in the eye. “Does it look like I’m joking, Ellie? When he was done with the song, he knelt in front of me and offered me an origami flower.”
This time it’s Sadie who regurgitates her drink, but instead of spitting it out like Ellie, hers comes flying out of her nose.
“Ow, shit. That burns. Mack gives a whole new meaning to the word ‘weird’ when it comes to goalies. But damn, he is funny.”
After introducing myself to the women I’ll be working with this season, we fell into easy conversation about the guys on the team. It seems that the goalie—Mack, as they call him—is one of the goofiest people they’ve ever met. And from what I know about goalies, that absolutely tracks.
Even though I’ve just met them, I somehow feel completely welcome and a part of their girl gang already. Katie, who I’ve learned is Lincoln’s cousin and fairly new to the team as well, turns my way once the laughter subsides a bit.
“Tell us about yourself, Avery.”
What a loaded statement. I fear that if I start talking about myself, I’ll reveal too much and scare them all away. I take a sip of my drink and try to come up with a safe answer. As I’m sipping, I realize I’m feeling much less lightheaded than I was when I saw Connor.
Connor.
It wasn’t a surprise seeing him here. I knew he was on the team when I took the job, and it was something I told myself I’d be okay with. I was not going to let another man dictate my life again.