Chapter 33
PATTERSON
Iwatch Kendall rush out of the building, and every instinct screams at me to follow her. But she asked me not to, and there’s something I need to do first.
Coach’s office door is still open. I move toward it, and when I slide into the doorway, he’s standing behind his desk with his back to the room. He’s staring at the practice rink like he wants to erase the last hour.
Kendall was mid-orgasm, pulsing against my fingers when the door opened. It wasn’t how I’d wanted him to find out.
Fuck.
I pull the door closed behind me. It slams closed, but I didn’t mean for that to happen.
He turns, and his face hardens. Over the years, Coach Hart has yelled at me, benched me, punished me, and made me skate until I puked. But he’s never looked at me with so much disdain.
“I cannot look at you right now.”
“Then close your eyes.”
His brows rise.
I’ve never talked back to him before. On the ice, in the locker room, in every team meeting, I’ve been his faithful soldier and only followed orders. I’ve spent nearly a decade earning his trust, only to have it lost in less than a minute.
“I don’t know what you think you were doing,” he says. “What the fuck, Cross? That’s my daughter! You have crossed the damn line.”
I stare at him. “Are you finished throwing a fit?”
He laughs. “You think you have any power in this situation? You’re officially on team suspension. You’re not playing the rest of the season.”
“Why?”
His nostrils flare, and that vein in his head is ticking. “For being insubordinate to your coach.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Ah, so that’s how you’ll punish me. Fine. That’s your Stanley Cup on the line.”
“I can’t believe you’d give up your record for this. This will stain your career. You do understand that, right? All the records you’ve earned, they’ll say they were given to you because of what you’ve done. Nepotism.”
I chuckle. “Doubtful. Everyone knew me and Kendall fucking hated each other until recently. But then again, I remember you asking us to get along. So, where is the line?”
“It was outside of my daughter’s underwear.”
I try to hold back a laugh.
He’s enraged. “You have both put me in an impossible position.” He comes around the desk and stops three feet from me, yelling in my face like he’s a drill sergeant.
“I will end your career with one phone call, Cross. Every GM in this league owes me a favor. I will make sure no team ever touches you again. What you have done is unforgivable.”
“Do what you want, Coach. But remember, if I’m not playing anymore, I’ll have more free time to spend with your daughter.”
“You’re testing my patience.”
“So, when we’re married, is that when I get to call you Dad or …”
That nearly sends him over the edge, and I swear his hair is going to fly off his head. His hands ball into fists at his sides, and for a second, I think he might actually swing at me, but instead, he points his finger in my face.
“You’re playing games with her. I won’t sit here and let you use Kendall so you can get back at your brother. Everyone knows about this competition you two have—”
“That’s what you think this is?” I ask. “You think I’d be willing to risk everything important to me to compete with my brother?” I let the question linger for an uncomfortable amount of time. “Actually, you don’t know me at all. That hurts more than your anger.”
I almost think I’m getting through to him.
“You’re going to have to make a choice, Patterson. Your career or my daughter. You can’t have both.”
“You’re wrong. I can have whatever I want.”
“You’re too cocky for your own good.”
“That’s your opinion. Your control ends when I walk out of this facility.
So, suspend me for the rest of the season because it’s all you can do.
But know that when the Angels are labeled as losers, after how hard we’ve all worked this season, that’s on you.
I’m willing to play, but you’re too busy being in your fee-fees.
” I hold his gaze, using the words he’s used on us a million times during games when we lost control. “So, with that, I say, do your worst.”
He shakes his head. “Get out of my office.”
“Gladly.”
I turn and walk to the door, then stop with my hand on the handle.
“I’ve had a crush on Kendall from the moment we met.
I’ve watched her date other men, get engaged to my twin brother, and even move to another country.
Now that she’s back, I’m not passing up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be with her.
There is nothing you can do to me or say that will make me change my mind.
She’ll have to end it.” I look back at him.
“So, with all the disrespect in the world, Coach, go fuck yourself.”
I leave, slamming the door behind me before he can respond.
Callan walks toward me with concern written all over his face. “Patterson, what was that?”
“Coach is suspending me for the rest of the season,” I tell him, still moving down the hallway toward the exit.
Callan grabs my arm and stops me. “What? Why?”
I don’t answer.
“Patterson.” His voice is low. “Talk to me. We need you tomorrow night.”
“It’s because of Kendall.”
He stares at me, processing.
“He caught us fooling around. In the conference room.”
He lets go of my arm and takes a step back, and the look on his face is something I wasn’t prepared for. Disappointment.
“You didn’t think about the team at all,” he says. “We’re fighting for a playoff spot, and you’re one of the best players we have. Fuck, Cross. You’re a selfish prick.”
I let out a long breath, knowing this is the consequence of my actions. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” He shakes his head. “We needed you, Patterson. We still need you. But apparently, your dick is in control here. Use your brain.”
The words hit harder than anything Coach said. Because Callan isn’t wrong. I’ve been so focused on Kendall, on hiding, on protecting what we had, that I forgot about everyone else who was counting on me.
“The guys are going to have questions when you don’t show up to the game tomorrow.”
“I know.”
His voice softens slightly. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. I’m not blind. But, Patterson, this could cost you everything.”
I don’t have a defense. He’s right.
“Exactly,” I tell him. “Somehow, I don’t give a shit. What we have is what people search their entire lives to find.”
Callan holds my gaze for a long moment.
“I’ll make it right,” I tell him. “I promise.”
“How?” he asks as I continue walking.
“I don’t know yet. I’ll think of something.”
When I turn around to look back at him, he’s shaking his head. “Hope she’s worth it.”
“She is.”
The weight of what I’ve done hits me in full force. I might have ended a career I spent my entire adult life building. The adrenaline courses through me, but underneath it, I feel relief that I can tell everyone the truth.
Kendall Hart is mine.
I pull my phone from my pocket and text her.
Patterson
Hi. Where are you? We should talk.
I wait another minute for a response, and when I don’t get one, I call her. It goes directly to voicemail.
“Ken Doll, I’m leaving the facility. Are you at your apartment? My place? I need to see you.”
When I don’t hear from her, I try her apartment and knock until I’m blue in the face. I text her again and call again.
Then I go to my penthouse to see if she let herself in. It’s empty.
Before I start worrying, I shuffle through the list of locations she could be. Maybe she’s grabbing something to eat, or maybe she’s at Addison’s.
I immediately text my sister.
Patterson
Hi. Are you alone?
It’s a general text that shouldn’t set off her Spidey senses if she is.
Her text bubble pops up.
Addison
Kendall’s here. Said her phone died. Also, you have A LOT of explaining to do. WTF, PATTERSON?! SHE TOLD ME EVERYTHING! WTAF!!!
Patterson
Heading that way.
I take the elevator down to the lobby and push through the front doors, where a car is already waiting. When the early spring air hits my skin, I realize I left my jacket inside, but I don’t go back for it.
The ride to Addison’s building in Tribeca takes over twenty minutes, and I spend every second checking my phone even though I know Kendall’s is dead. I need to see her face. I need to know she’s okay.
When I reach Addison’s floor, I force myself to take a breath and calm down before I knock.
My sister opens up, and the look on her face makes me want to turn around and leave.
She’s furious in a way I’ve rarely seen.
It’s not her usual dramatic flair or the passive-aggressive comments that sting three days later when you understand what she meant.
This is different. She’s trying to cover her hurt with anger.
“Hey,” I say.
“Don’t hey me.” She blocks the doorway with her body, arms crossed. “You lied to me. For months.”
“I know.”
“I asked you point-blank if something was going on between you two, more than once, and you literally lied to my face. Jameson did too. Probably because you’d put him up to it.”
“I can only apologize for my own wrongdoings. He did it because he kinda owed us both for being a complete and utter dickhead.”
“I didn’t hear you say I’m sorry.” She laughs, but there’s no humor in it.
“I’m sincerely sorry. You’re only the third person who knows,” I say.
“After Kendall’s dad and Jameson. Wait, you’re fourth.
Forgot I told Callan. You’re absolutely top five.
I was caught up, trying to figure out what this was, and I didn’t want any outside pressure, especially not during the season. ”
“Yeah? How has that worked out for you?” Addison gives me pure attitude.
“Honestly? Maybe a four out of ten. Could be better,” I say, and she playfully tries to slap me.