Chapter Fourteen #2
He loved her. She loved him. That much was easy to see.
But I still didn’t trust him.
And I didn’t like her being with him.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I was acting so unlike myself, it was terrifying.
I was the stable, professional, level-headed coach of a national league hockey team.
I’d always put hockey above everything. I committed my whole life to it, not even surrendering enough time to properly try to have any sort of relationship outside those I had with my team and staff.
And here I was, dreaming of my general manager’s wife and hallucinating that I had any sort of chance in hell to win my second chance with her.
In what world would this turn out well?
That realization sobered me, and I found myself handing Lennon back to Livia, wishing both her and Carter a good night.
I adjusted my messenger bag strap on my shoulder and headed for the door.
I shouldn’t have stopped in at all. I needed to go home and cool off.
I needed to get a fucking grip on reality.
Before I could escape, a slender hand caught my arm.
I closed my eyes on a pause, exhaling and telling myself to keep it short and professional before I turned and smiled.
“Congratulations,” Ariana said. “Not exactly the game I expected, but you pulled it off.”
Fuck, she was stunning.
Her long golden hair fell in soft, brushed waves over her shoulders, not a strand out of place despite the hours she’d spent in the suite and working on Sweet Dreams tasks before that.
I didn’t recognize her sometimes, this poised, polished woman she’d grown to be in my absence, but I still knew it was her.
I knew it was my Ari, the one twenty-year-old her dreamed of being, running a nonprofit and helping kids the way she’d always wanted to.
Not your Ari, my pea brain reminded me. Stop being delusional.
But then her piercing blue eyes lifted to mine, framed by delicate features I’d memorized long ago.
And it winded me.
I was knocked back in time again, and I didn’t see the put-together, elegant woman in front of me.
I saw the girl she’d been at twenty — standing in the hallway outside her dorm wearing my hoodie and a shy smile.
I saw the way she used to tuck her hair behind her ear when she was nervous, all the pen caps she destroyed from gnawing on them during our study nights, the way she laughed so loudly only to cover her mouth and blush like she’d stepped out of line, like she believed her stepdad’s words that she should be seen and not heard.
That version of her flickered over this one, and it damn near leveled me.
“Thank you,” I managed, my voice rougher than it should’ve been. “The boys did the heavy lifting.”
Her lips curved politely, and I saw her eyes flick to the door before they were on me again.
“It was impressive,” she said. “Sandin was… unpredictable.”
“Understatement,” I muttered.
My eyes betrayed me then, drifting over her like they had a mind of their own. Her style hadn’t changed, but it was grown now, elevated. She wore understated neutral cashmere, a soft beige sweater tucked into tailored black slacks, and simple gold jewelry, nothing loud or attention-grabbing.
And yet she still lit up the damn room.
She was mesmerizing — soft curves under conservative fabric, alabaster skin that never needed makeup, but radiated when she chose to wear it.
That small, pale scar on her right hand, half-hidden against her side as if she could pretend it wasn’t there, snagged my gaze.
I still remembered the night she told me how she got it, that she’d stepped in front of her mom when Jay was on a terror, and he’d snapped, driving a kitchen knife into the back of her hand where it was braced on the wall, her body serving as armor for her mother.
She’d been only fourteen.
Everything about her tugged on something in me I’d spent eighteen years trying to suffocate, and I felt powerless to fight against my natural urges for her.
She was off limits.
And yet I couldn’t stay away.
“Are you heading home?” she asked, her voice gentle.
“I was,” I said, grabbing the back of my neck. “Long day.”
She nodded, her gaze dipping for half a second before she pulled it back up.
“You waiting for Nathan?” I asked, both a sucker for punishment and a fool for hope. As if there would be any other answer. As if she’d say, Oh, Nathan? No. I’ve been waiting for you, actually.
“Yeah, he should be here soon. He’s got an early flight, probably eager to get home and get what little rest he still can.”
That made my brow arch. “Oh?”
“Heading to Vegas for work,” she answered with a shrug. “Which, I admit, will be kind of nice. I could use some free time to get the house settled.”
Her smile was genuine with that, but then she balked, shaking her head.
“I mean, I’ll miss him, of course, desperately. I just…”
“I get it,” I said, smirking and holding out my hands to let her know she didn’t need to defend herself.
Hell, I loved that she wasn’t destroyed by him leaving town.
I was also committed to being the dumbest version of myself, apparently, because I opened my stupid mouth and asked, “How long is he gone for?”
“Just the weekend.”
I frowned, wondering what business he could possibly have in Vegas, but I never knew what the general managers and team owners got into outside of the rink. So, I let my brain move to the more pressing question I had.
“Do you have any plans Sunday?”
Ariana frowned. “I… I guess just stuff around the house. Maybe treating myself to a Bravo marathon.”
“Think you could spare some time to explore your new city with me?”
There it was, that beautiful blush that grazed her cheeks in the best moments: when our eyes locked in class that first day we met, when I’d stolen a sip from her smoothie and she’d realized we were sharing straws, when I’d kissed her without warning in the quad for everyone to see, when I’d whispered filthy words in her ear while she tried to study…
“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said with a breath of a laugh, tucking her hair behind one ear as her gaze fell to our feet.
“Why not?”
At that, she sucked her teeth, her gaze lifting right back to mine to level me with a glare that told me she saw right through me pretending there wasn’t a single problem with the two of us spending a day together.
“What?” I feigned innocence, pressing a hand to my chest. “You’re married, remember?” I said mockingly, a knowing smile on my lips. “And I’m an old geezer who barely leaves the rink. What trouble could we possibly get into?”
Her brow ticked up like she knew the answer but wouldn’t dare say it out loud.
“Come on. Let me show you around your new home.”
Ariana’s thoughts were unreadable as her eyes flicked between mine, but I noted that tinge of pink in her cheeks, the way her hands twisted together in front of her lap.
“It’s one afternoon, Ari. As friends.”
Her expression told me she didn’t believe that.
I didn’t believe it either.
She crossed her arms, uncrossed them, clasped her hands at her waist. “Shane…”
I stepped just a little closer — not enough to touch her, but enough to feel the gravity of her. “There are no practices Sunday. The guys have the day off. Your husband is traveling. And I’m not asking for anything except… a day. A little sunlight. A break.”
Her eyes flicked down my chest, back up to my face. A tell. A warning.
Her silence stretched, and my heartbeat pounded so loud I could barely hear the conversations around us.
Say yes, I found myself pleading like an idiot.
Please. Just let me have one day.
Finally, quietly — like the word escaped before she could stop it — she whispered, “Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeated, trying and failing not to grin like a lucky bastard who’d won the lottery. “Sunday.”
“Sunday.”
Wordlessly, I extended my hand for her phone. Ariana hesitated only a moment before retrieving it, and I typed my number in quickly, texting myself so I’d have her number, too, before I handed the phone back.
Nathan swept into the room then, and for the first time since he’d arrived in Tampa, I found my handshakes and smiles genuine as we chatted about the game. It didn’t matter that he had my hackles raised, that I still didn’t trust him — I couldn’t help but beam.
Because he was leaving.
And I was ready to make the most of his absence.