20. Monroe
TWENTY
MONROE
brOMANCE.
Sweat and rubber permeated the sticky air. Summer training was in full swing, with prospects at the facility all week. Even with the giant fans on full blast, the gym was stifling with so many bodies packed in.
“Let’s go, give me five more.”Ariella’s voice bounced off the metal walls, followed by a chorus of groans that had her smiling from ear to ear.
“She’s so hot when she’s telling people what to do,” Thatcher whispered from beside me, watching her run the fitness assessment portion of our combine.
I shook my head. “You’re supposed to be watching the new players. Helping me decide who’ll be a good fit, not popping a boner over your girlfriend,” I scolded, forcing my eyes back on the players, too.
My brain was still recounting what happened in my kitchen a couple nights before.
Thatcher shot me a goofy grin. It was all the confirmation I needed to know that his eyes would be on her ass for the rest of the day.
Fucker.
Truth was, I was happy he’d found someone like Ariella. The way she cared about him was exactly what a guy like Thatcher deserved after so many years of dealing with a shit girlfriend and a shittier dad. His mom was great, but daddy issues can really root in deep and fuck you up.
“Hear from our moms lately?”
“Pretty sure this European vacation has ’em believing they’re twenty-one still,” Thatcher said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
I grunted in agreement. “Yesterday, she called me from the back of some guy’s moped. He was showin’ her ’round ‘the real Italy.’” That line of bullshit sounded exactly like something a guy would tell a woman he was trying to get into the pants of—or wallet.
Thatcher’s mouth rose in a lopsided grin. “Go Cinds! Cuttin’ it up.”
“Your momma was on the back of one, too.”
His head snapped to me, face in full-on panic mode. “She told me she had a quiet day.”
“Quiet day on the back of some guy’s moped.” I chuckled, fully enjoying the crash-out Thatcher was having. Glad to not be the only one freaking out about my single mom living it up in another country.
“I can’t believe she left that part out.”
I nodded. Neither of us would say a damn thing about it. Didn’t matter that I was a grown man with a kid of my own. The second Cindy thought I was telling her what to do, she’d put my ass in place.
My mom deserved the time away to let loose. The woman was a saint.
First things I did when I was hired on as Dallas’ head coach were get the safest-rated vehicle and car seat, and hire my mom full-time as Goldie’s nanny. There was no one more capable than her. She’d raised me all on her own, and there wasn’t a negative memory I had of my childhood.
Retired my mom from her career in healthcare, and made sure Goldie had one of the most important female figures in my life in hers, too.
Two birds, one stone.
Hockey season was long as hell with a lot of travel, so I tried my damnedest to give her the summers off, or at least the first few months.
Offseason was still busy for me, but at least most of my work was at our home rink.
When I signed with San Jose, it was with the stipulation that they’d work with me when it came to Golds during the time my mom was away.
“Heard the weekend was exciting for you.” Thatcher’s elbow hit my rib. “How’d the City Cup dinner go? You know, Ariella and I also started out as a fake thing.”
The clanking of weights and grunts drowned out my snort. “Load of bullshit. There was never anything fake between you two. That chemistry was real from the moment you set eyes on her.”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Is it anything like that for you and Itzel?” He swiveled to look at me. “Y’all have been on what, two dates now? How were they?”
“Uh, fine.” I racked my brain for a response that didn’t give away the fact that my mind was on another woman.
“We went to the dinner Friday and then lunch the other day so some photographers could get photos of us. Graciella said something about us needing to be seen out together more than once in a short time span to get people talking.”
“Wow.” Thatcher’s brows went up. “Fine isn’t exactly a glowing review. I’d have thought you and Itzel would hit it off.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that I don’t like her…she’s sweet, and we had a nice time. It’s just—”
“You don’t like her, like her,” he finished, a look of understanding on his face.
Not the way I like—I cut that thought off.
I tucked my hands in my pockets, needing to do something other than hold them at my sides, wishing there was a rink edge to grip onto.
“I mean, I shouldn’t be, anyway.” I shrugged. “That wasn’t what either of us signed up for.”
“True, but you’ve got to sell this thing, right?
Are you at least a little attracted to her?
I remember having that conversation with Ari.
She practically cornered me in my car to talk about how we’d handle the public displays of affection portion of being fake.
I was nervous she’d tell me I wasn’t allowed to touch her. ”
He laughed, but my back went ramrod straight at the comment.
“Hadn’t considered that, huh?”
“I mean, I don’t think we’ll need to do any of that…”
God, I hope we don’t need to.
Thatcher scoffed. “You ever date a woman you didn’t touch? No one is going to believe it’s real if you don’t act like you’re actually dating her, man. Do what Ari and I did—practice kissing her in private.” He shrugged a shoulder, like it was no big deal.
But there was only one woman I wanted to kiss at the moment, and she was one I definitely should not be kissing.
My will to care about that was dwindling by the second.
“Damn, Coach. You look like we just fucked up a power play,” Jimenez said, coming up beside us, a water bottle swinging loosely from his hand. His dark eyes flicked between Thatcher and me. “Or is this about your new relationship status?” he prodded, pulling out his phone.
Itzel’s soft smile filled the screen. Her hand lifted in a little wave as we walked out of the lunch spot Graciella had sent us to. Our arms might’ve nearly touched, but we looked miles apart. My eyes were focused straight ahead, hands shoved in my pockets.
Still, the caption read, “Stars head coach steps out for a second time with mystery woman.”
Thatcher huffed, leaning forward to catch Jimenez’s eye. “Says their dates were ‘fine.’”
Jimenez’s brows shot up. “So, shit.”
“No, not shit,” I said, irritated we were still talking about this.
“But you’re not interested in kissing her,” Thatcher added. Fucker knew that’d get Jimenez’s ears perked up. The guy lived for gossip.
Jimenez rubbed his hands together, looking way too happy. “All right, I’m listening.”
“You’re always listening,” I grumbled.
I hesitated, jaw tightening. I didn’t enjoy sitting around dissecting my love life, or lack thereof, like this.
But I was also desperate. All I needed was for dumb and dumber to tell me to get my shit together and stop thinking about Graciella.
“Itzel is fine,” I said again, hating the word more the second time around. “She’s nice. Easy. No drama...”
We only seem to talk about her best friend. I winced at the pathetic thought.
“But…” Jimenez prompted.
I let out a slow breath. “But nothing. There’s nothing to say. This whole thing was fake from the start, and that’s exactly how it feels with Itzel, and I’m cool with that...” Even to my ears, it sounded like there was a shit ton I’d left out to my two best friends.
Truth poured out before I could stop it. “I thought about Graciella the whole time I was there.”
That shut them both up.
Thatcher leaned back first, dragging a hand over his mouth. “Yeah, that’ll do it.”
“Damn. You went from no women in your life to dating someone you don’t like and being hung up on her friend.” Jimenez slapped my back. “Good luck with that.”
So much for sage advice.
I glared at them. “That’s all you have to say? Good luck with that?” Irritation crawled up my spine. “You’re supposed to tell me to forget about Graciella and that it’s a stupid idea.”
“Why?” Thatcher’s question was a direct blow to the chest. “Why can’t you be with her?”
“She’s my publicist, and I’m dating someone else. It’s wrong.” The words were like ash on my tongue.
“Bullshit,” Jimenez said, shaking his head.
“You wanna stay lonely, man, that’s fine.
Don’t want to be in a relationship? Cool.
But don’t feed us, and yourself, some bullshit excuse like that.
” His eyes drilled into mine, daring me to argue, but my lips stayed sealed.
“The relationship is fake. Fire Graciella and Itzel if that’s what’s keeping you from her, but that excuse sounds like bullshit, too. ”
“I don’t even know if I like Graciella like that,” I lied, studying the prospects doing burpees.
Thatcher’s hand landed on my shoulder. “Listen man, you do what you feel is right. But, coming from personal experience, fighting for the girl is worth it.”
Fuck.