Chapter 33
Finley
I crossed a line.
A thick, black line with a neon sign saying, “Do not, under any circumstances, cross.”
And that version of me cannot survive as the head coach of the Denver Yeti.
I can’t make mistakes, and clearly that was a big one.
I pace my office as I run through the damage control that must be done. I don’t think anyone saw us, but we’re both famous enough that cell phones are dangerous. He’s on the IR now, but what happens when he gets back? How do I remain neutral when I feel anything but toward him?
Did I leave my underwear at his place?
I search through my backpack, letting out a sigh of relief when I find the thong rolled up in yesterday’s sweatpants.
The thought of sweatpants allows my mind to wander to a memory of Beckett pulling them off me before his mouth was on me. It was good. We were good.
I forcibly shove that thought from my mind. That is exactly why I don’t date.
I don’t get to be the type of woman who sits around her office fantasizing about the man she made the mistake of wanting. I don’t get to want things other women do. And I certainly don’t get to date one of my players.
I am a coach.
The leader.
A professional.
Always.
“Finley, do you have a minute?” Sabrina asks as I prepare to leave my office that evening, keys in hand. I really wish this woman would just call me Coach Blake, like everyone else.
“Of course, Sabrina,” I reply, ready to give the team whatever they need.
“Great,” Sabrina says, shutting the door behind her. “There is some chatter online, and I want to flag it with you early.”
“Okay.” I sit down. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to let you know that we’re seeing a change in some of the comments about you on recent posts.”
Instead of panicking like I want to, I ask, “What do you mean?”
“The tone online is shifting: it’s less about the team right now.”
“Okay…” I say.
“More about you. Things like, ‘The forbidden-romance vibes between Team Blane are better than Bridgerton.’”
My stomach sinks like a ship that was hit by a meteorite. Fuck. I knew there was some romantic speculation out there because of the Challenge, but I hadn’t realized it’d become the main noise.
“Or, ‘There’s no way her players aren’t into her. Looking at you, Kane.’”
Jesus. What would it take to get a rumor about Larsen having a crush on me? Shit, I’d take the whole team at this point. Calling out Kane makes it worse.
“Anyway,” Sabrina continues like she’s not blowing up my entire world, “that’s the gist of it.
Though there is one picture circulating where you’re on the bench and Kane’s on the ice.
It looks like you two are sharing a moment, but the majority of comments are pushing back because it’s clearly just a weird angle or something. ”
“I… I wouldn’t—”
“Oh, I know,” Sabrina thankfully cuts me off.
“You’ve worked really hard to keep your focus where it belongs: the team.
And I know we asked you and Kane to do The Great Yeti Challenge and give it your all.
You know we all value how disciplined you are in putting the team first and always upholding the professional boundaries required of your position. ”
“Thank you,” I reply slowly, despite my heart rate speeding up as she reminds me of all the ways I’ve drifted from who I was. Who I need to be.
“It’s just that, as you saw last spring, when the narrative starts to shift, it can do so quite fast, and it’s hard to get back.
I’d hate to see the focus pulled from the Yeti team and back on the topics we finally moved away from.
” Sabrina wipes her hands on her legs, standing as she does it.
“Anyway, if you and Kane can just limit your time together for the next few weeks until things cool down, we’ll make sure The Great Yeti Challenge focuses primarily on the other teams. I know you’ll do what you’re supposed to—you always have. ”
Oh God. I didn’t. For the first time in my life, I didn’t do what I was supposed to.
“I… Yes. Yeti first,” I agree. “Of course.”
“And just so you know, I didn’t escalate this at all, even if I maybe should’ve. I know how seriously you take your role.”
My breath hitches as a lump forms in my throat.
If only she knew.
“Thanks, Sabrina.”
“Of course. And good luck this week. It’s showtime!”
And as I walk out the door, I know she’s right. I cannot afford any more mistakes, especially not as we enter the most important two weeks of my life.