Chapter 36
ON NOTICE
Hayes
The game can’t end soon enough. We can’t score fast enough. I have to get off the ice and check on Ivy after carrying her to the assistant athletic trainer who was waiting in the tunnel.
I plow through my line shifts during the final period, racing against the clock. If I can just pad this lead. If I can just get off the rink. I fly down the ice, shoulder to shoulder with Stefan, who spots an opening and passes to me.
Just try to stop me, goalie.
I blast that motherfucking puck to the back of the net without thinking twice.
My teammates cheer and the crowd erupts, but I barely feel the usual adrenaline rush. I just want this game to be over.
When I return to the bench with Stefan, he yanks up his helmet, then says, so only I can hear, “She’ll be okay.”
“But I hate that she’s hurt at all,” I mutter.
“Yeah, I know.” He pats my back.
How is he so fucking rational?
He taps the boards with his stick. “You can do this,” he says, calm and in control.
But I feel like a high-tension line. I’ve been such an asshole for the last few days. I’ve fucking ignored her, and I hate that.
And now she’s hurt, and she probably hates me. Why the fuck didn’t I say more when she texted? Why didn’t I text her?
You know why. You’re fucking scared.
I breathe out hard, then take this surge of irritation and pour it into the rest of the game, making sure we rack up a win.
When the buzzer sounds, I’m out of there without looking back.
* * *
The second my skates are off, I march into the athletic trainers’ room, barking, “Where’s my wife?” from the doorway.
Ivy sits on the bench in the corner, kicking her sneakered feet back and forth, drinking grape juice and icing her left wrist while talking to Briar, the yoga instructor who’s been contracted to work with the team. “And when she said you and me?” Ivy says with a sigh.
Briar, standing by the counter of medical supplies, clasps her chest like she’s swooning. “I was done. Just done. The entire box of tissues—gone,” Briar says.
“Same,” Ivy says in that tone women use when they’re bonding over something romantic said on TV or in a book.
What the hell? Where is the athletic trainer? The assistant trainer? I’m about ready to pull my hair out, and they’re discussing romantic quotes?
“What’s going on?” I demand, closing the distance to the dark-haired beauty I’ve missed terribly. “Are you okay?”
Ivy turns to me at last. “Oh. Hi,” she says, then waggles the bottle. “This is like candy. Have you had this before? Or is that against the diet rules?”
We’re talking about grape juice and diets? She fell and I carried her off the ice, terrified she was hurt badly, and we’re discussing drinks?
I’m still in my uniform shorts and pads. My neck is covered in sweat. My hair is a mess. And my heart is beating too fast.
“We won,” Ivy says brightly. “It was the polar bear. That got everyone going, right?”
Oh, shit.
I know this Ivy.
This is Ivy’s wall. Like in the SUV in Vegas after the wedding when she was too cheery, too upbeat, too happy. She does this when she’s hiding something. Afraid of something. And I’m pretty sure I know what she’s afraid of now.
Me.
Or more specifically, how frosty I’ve been the last few days.
My bad behavior wallops me. I shut down. I ignored. I avoided. I was as cold as my ex-girlfriend had accused.
I don’t feel cold at all for this woman before me.
I feel so much for Ivy it terrifies me. But I face down grown men on the ice who want to body check me, so I can do this.
I cup Ivy’s cheeks and meet her deep blue eyes, full of the brightness that masks her hurt.
“I’m sorry,” I say, full of contrition. I hope she hears all of it. “I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes swing briefly to Briar. “I just jammed my wrist, that’s all,” she says, like I’d be silly to think otherwise.
“Kelsey was here, but she had to get back to the team. She iced it and gave me the good stuff. Ibuprofen. And Briar found the grape juice. If I’m a good girl, Kelsey said she’d give me goldfish crackers when she checks back in a few minutes.
But now, Briar’s in charge of me. What do you think, B? Do I deserve crackers too?”
The perky yoga instructor winks at Ivy. “You can have crackers, but only if you send me that link.”
Ivy scoffs playfully. “Consider it done.”
“What link?” I ask, lost again in their girl talk.
“She needs a dress for a thing,” Ivy says.
“I hate shopping,” Briar adds with a shudder.
“And I don’t,” Ivy says. “It works out perfectly. Briar gave me the contraband grape juice, and I’m going to get her a dress for an event.”
Fuck.
She doesn’t believe me. She doesn’t trust me. I run my thumb along her jawline. “Let me take you home,” I whisper.
Shaking her head, she meets my gaze, her eyes sharp and shrewd. “I’m fine.” She’s not being too nice now. She’s drawing a line in the sand.
She slides carefully off the table, turning in a slow circle.
My jaw falls. “You should be lying down. Resting. Taking it easy,” I sputter.
She waggles her fingers and shows off the ACE bandage on her wrist. “They did an X-ray and nothing’s broken.
I just need to rest it tonight. Kelsey took care of me, and now I’m literally hanging out with Briar,” she says, laying out the facts, crisp and cool.
“And I can skate at the game in two days. It was just a fall, and the bear costume helped protect me.”
I growl at her. There are lines in the sand and there is also an injured woman I need to take care of. “We’re going home. Now.”
“I need to grab…my water bottle. Yes, that’s it,” Briar stammers, then exits the room swiftly.
It’s just us.
My wife glares at me. “You can’t just barge in here and tell me to go home when you’ve ignored me for three days. That’s not how this works.”
I reel, shocked at the bite in her words. The truth in them.
“And you can’t just come in here and demand to see your wife,” she adds.
I drag a hand down my face. I really fucked up.
“What can I do then?” I ask, feeling helpless but refusing to go.
Her fire burns off, leaving only vulnerability. “Just talk to me. That’s what I want. That’s what you can do.”
I wrap my arms around her. “I’m sorry, baby. I ignored you. I practically ghosted you. I just shut down.”
She’s still at first, then she inches closer to me. “I noticed.”
“Of course you did. You always notice.”
“I don’t like being ignored,” she whispers, “by either of you.”
I let go and then meet her eyes, speaking straight from the heart now. “Come home with us. Please.”
Pretty sure it’s the us that does it for her. I don’t even have to ask Stefan if he wants in. I’m not at all surprised when I look up and spot him standing in the doorway, gazing at Ivy.
He shuts the door and advances toward her. “We were jerks. We don’t deserve you. But let us take care of you anyway.”
Well, that sums things up nicely.