Chapter 22
Catherine Celia
A week after Sloane Russell caught me sneaking out of her son’s apartment, I was standing in the Dallas Blaze treatment room pretending my life had not become completely unhinged.
The arena should have been a safe place to focus.
It was familiar now. The sharp smell of disinfectant.
The constant thud of skates against rubber flooring.
The scrape of sticks being dragged down the hallway.
Wren shouting for tape. Dr. Patel asking for updated notes.
By the end of July, prospects camp had shifted from overwhelming to almost comfortable.
I knew where Dr. Patel kept the extra gauze.
I knew Luca, the rookie defenseman, pretended he was fine even when he clearly wasn’t.
I knew Dax hated ice packs. I knew Nate flirted when he was nervous, which meant he flirted constantly.
I also knew Hunter Russell could walk into a room and ruin every professional thought in my head without saying a word.
That was inconvenient. We had been careful all week, which meant no towel closets.
No late-night visits. No stolen kitchen counters or waking up in his bed with my heart lodged somewhere behind my ribs.
Careful meant texts that started normal and turned loaded after midnight, and passing each other in hallways with polite nods while my body remembered exactly what it felt like to have him over me, inside me, around me.
I had never been good at wanting something quietly.
And Hunter was not something small to want.
He had touched me like he wanted to learn me, not just have me.
The memory hit me at the worst possible time.
Across the treatment room, Max sat on one of the tables while Dr. Patel cleaned a cut near his eyebrow.
“Be honest,” Max said, leaning toward me. “Does this make me look tough?”
Dr. Patel dabbed the cut with antiseptic. “It makes you look like you lost a fight with someone’s elbow.”
Leo Karlsson walked in behind him, still in practice gear, blond hair damp from the ice. “I vote stupid.”
Max pointed at him. “You don’t get a vote.”
I tried not to laugh while updating a chart.
Max turned his grin on me. “Catherine, you think I look tough, right?”
I kept my eyes on the tablet. Leo made a quiet sound that might have been a laugh.
Max pressed a hand to his chest. “That’s not nice, dear cousin.”
I finally looked up. “Medical intern has disinfectant.”
Nate whistled. “Careful, McGuire. She’ll clean your wound aggressively.”
Then Hunter walked in, and I felt the air shift.
For everyone else, nothing changed. Max kept talking.
Leo leaned against the counter. But for me, everything narrowed onto Hunter in black training shorts and a fitted Dallas Blaze shirt, his hair damp, his jaw rough with stubble, his expression calm in that controlled captain way that made everyone else settle without realizing they were doing it.
His gaze found mine for one brief second.
Then he looked away, like I was nothing more than another person in the room.
I knew better, though. We had been texting all week, trying to find a way to see each other that was safe.
It had been a week of wondering how something that felt so good could also feel like a disaster waiting for the right match.
“Shoulder?” Wren asked him.
“Fine,” Hunter said.
Wren narrowed her eyes. “For real.”
“It’s not bothering me,” he insisted.
“Good.”
He sat on the table beside Max, and the space in the room instantly felt smaller. Max looked between Hunter and me for one beat too long. My stomach tightened.
“Something on your mind, McGuire?” Hunter asked without looking at him.
Max smiled slowly. “Always.”
“That’s unfortunate for all of us,” Hunter said.
Nate leaned back on his elbows. “Captain’s cranky today.”
“I’m not cranky.”
“You’re using your cranky voice,” Nate said.
Luca looked at Leo. “He has different voices?”
Leo nodded seriously. “Many.”
Hunter stared at all of them. “Does anyone here want to make the roster?”
The room went quiet for three seconds.
Then Max grinned. “That one is murder voice.”
Wren pointed to the door. “Everyone who is not bleeding, broken, or being actively treated can leave.”
Max slid off the table, still grinning. “Yes, ma’am.”
As he passed me, his gaze flicked once toward Hunter, then back to me.
I focused on my tablet and pretended my pulse had not jumped.
By lunch, I needed air. And Billie Rose.
Luckily, I had an afternoon hospital meeting, which meant I got to leave the arena and pretend I had a normal life for three hours.
Billie met me outside the cafeteria wearing scrubs, a messy bun, and the expression of a woman who already knew I was keeping secrets.
“You look guilty,” she said.
“Hello to you too,” I laughed.
“You also look like you’ve had sex.”
I choked on nothing. “Billie.”
She smiled. “OMG. You have.”
“Can we get food first?” I asked.
“Yes. Coffee for me and a confession from you.” She waggled her brows, and I shook my head, laughing.
Ten minutes later, we sat in the hospital cafeteria with iced coffees, two containers of fries, and my stomach in knots.
She leaned across the table. “Talk.”
I stared at my coffee. “Catherine Celia Davis.”
“Don’t full-name me. You sound like my parents,” I scoffed.
“Then stop looking like you committed a felony.”
“I slept with Hunter,” I blurted.
Billie’s mouth dropped open. Then she slapped one hand over it and looked around the cafeteria like the nurses at the next table might care about my sex life.
“You slept with Hunter Russell?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“And you kept this from me all week?”
“I was processing.” I took a long draw of my iced coffee.
“You had sex with the man you’ve had a forbidden crush on for years, and you processed alone?” she asked, offended.
“I panicked,” I confessed. I stirred my coffee even though it did not need stirring. “His mom knows.”
Billie went completely still. “What do you mean his mom knows?”
“Isla came home early with a stomachache, and Sloane found out I was in Hunter’s room,” I said quickly, then winced.
Billie’s eyes went huge. “No. Did Isla see you?”
“No. Sloane helped him sneak me out.”
Billie made a small sound and pressed both hands to her face. “This is the best and worst thing I have ever heard.”
“It was awful. Sloane saw me, and now she knows about me and Hunter.”
“What did Hunter do?”
“He was mortified. Guilty. Apologizing every two seconds. He’s been texting all week, but we’ve been keeping distance.”
Billie’s expression softened. “How much distance?”
“Too much.” The words came out before I could make them casual.
Billie studied me. “You miss him.”
“I miss him so much it’s embarrassing,” I pouted. It felt good to get my feelings off my chest.
“Was it good?” she asked because she was Billie Rose and needed all the details.
Heat rushed up my neck.
Billie sat forward. “Oh, it was good.”
“He was so attentive. Like he noticed everything. He made me feel wanted but also safe, which sounds cheesy and annoying.”
“It doesn’t.”
“With Julian, I always felt like I was trying to be enough. With Hunter, I didn’t feel like I had to perform. I just felt like he wanted me there. Exactly as I was.”
Billie’s face softened. “That’s not small, Cat.”
“I know.”
“So, what’s the problem besides every obvious problem?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “He feels guilty about my parents, Isla, and the team. And I hate that he feels guilty about me. We’re two adults falling for each other.”
Billie’s eyebrows lifted. I froze.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m looking at you like your life got interesting.”
“My life is always too complicated.” I pushed a fry around my container. “Part of me wants to tell my parents so I can stop lying and stop feeling like every normal conversation with my dad is evidence against me.”
“And the other part?” she inquired.
“The other part is terrified I’ve disappointed them,” I confessed.
“Oh, honey,” she pouted with me.
“I don’t want them to think I threw my future into team gossip because I couldn’t keep my hands off a player.”
“Is that what you think you’re doing?” she asked. It was an honest question.
“Definitely not. You know me. I’m not the type to throw myself at someone. I need feelings and emotions. And I wanted Hunter for so long.”
“Then don’t let fear say it louder than the truth.”
I swallowed.
Billie reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “You’re allowed to want him.”
“I know.” My words were weak because I still wasn’t fully convinced. We had so much working against us.
My phone buzzed.
Hunter.
Hunter: How’s the hospital?
I stared at the screen for a second too long.
Billie sipped her coffee. “Speak of the tattooed devil?”
I ignored her.
Me: Fine. Billie is interrogating me.
Hunter: Should I be afraid?
Me: Yes.
Hunter: Tell her I said hi.
Billie leaned over the table. “Tell him I know everything and I’m watching him.”
I typed exactly that.
Hunter: That sounds fair.
Then another message came through.
Hunter: I miss you.
My chest squeezed. Billie’s expression changed as she read my face.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “You’re in trouble.”
I didn’t respond because she was right.
That night, Isla was having a sleepover with Mila. Mila had been begging for it since camp ended, and Isla had shown up with a duffel bag and a stuffed turtle. Mom had a shift at the hospital, which left Dad in charge, and Jaden was sleeping over at a friend.
“You picked an action movie,” Mila said. My sister didn’t like action movies. She preferred movies like the Babysitters Club.
Dad stood in the kitchen, one eye on the girls and the other on the game playing silently on his phone. “No fighting. Isla is a guest.”
“She’s basically family,” Mila said.
My stomach dipped at that.
Isla grinned. “I accept.”
I sat at the island with a book open, my phone face down beside my elbow, burning a hole into the counter. Because Isla being here meant Hunter’s apartment was empty. I hated how aware I was of that.
Dad glanced over. “You okay, CC?”
“Yeah,” I said too fast. “Just tired.”
My father had Hunter’s daughter in our den, and I was thinking about how to sneak into Hunter’s apartment. The guilt pressed hard beneath my ribs, but wanting Hunter was stronger.
Me: Isla is having fun with Mila.
His response came almost immediately.
Hunter: I’m sure.
Me: You must be lonely.
Hunter: Catherine.
Me: What?
Hunter: I don’t know if tonight is a good idea.
My chest tightened.
Me: How are we supposed to be together if we’re never together?
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Hunter: Come over.
I stared at the words. Then I stood.
Dad looked up from the game. “Going somewhere?”
“Taylor’s.”
Dad nodded. “Have fun. I guess I’ll be entertaining Mila and Isla alone tonight.”
“Sorry,” I said.
“Nah, you’re young. You should be hanging out with friends. You’re always working so hard.”
Those words made guilt rise inside me. I was lying to my parents, and I loved them more than anything.
I still walked out because my heart was in the driver’s seat tonight.
I wanted to see Hunter. I wanted to be with him because I had never felt this way before, and if that meant risking everything, then so be it.