24. Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
The holiday season is upon us, and the Renegades are heading into a well-deserved Winter break.
The playoff race is heating up, and the team will need to return with a strong push to secure their spot.
The players and Coach Trasier have a lot to prove, the competition is fierce, and it’s anyone’s race to win. ~Renegades Rinkside
Merri
My car wouldn’t start.
I stood in the brightly lit, immaculate parking garage behind Shep’s apartment, my pulse thumping at my temple.
Not a good sign for how my day was gonna go.
I’d awakened with my cheek plastered to Shep’s pectoral, the muscle hard but apparently comfortable enough for me to sleep right through the night like a complete idiot.
I’d jerked away so fast, his hand tangled in my hair and my yelp woke him.
Maybe that was the sign my day was going to crash.
Nosedive into unspeakable horrors. I didn’t have a lot of experience sneaking out of a one night stand’s bed first thing in the morning—okay, I had zero experience—but something told me waking the gorgeous hockey player up from a dead sleep with a screech didn’t bode well for a stealthy escape.
His warm, sleepy, blue eyes drifted over me.
He lay still, one hand behind his head, the other somewhere behind me, probably decorated with a few of my yanked strands of hair.
But his stillness was deceptive and hunger pushed the sleepy from his eyes.
Desire flooded his expression. He wanted to devour me.
Was he already picturing it in his mind?
His blue gaze drifted lower and I jerked again, scrambling to sit on my rear, ripping the blanket from him to cover my nakedness.
Only to expose his.
My gaze went there only to jerk back up to his face. The corner of his lips kicked up in a lazy almost smile. “Mornin’, gorgeous.”
The deep rumble of his morning-roughened voice sparked every nerve ending in my body.
I scooted off the bed before I gave into his magnetic pull.
I needed to get home, get changed, get to work and pretend I hadn’t just spent the night with Shep Landon.
Pretend that I still had a lick of sense in my stupid, stupid brain.
His gaze scalded my skin as I dressed holding the sheet between my chin and my chest, forcing myself not to look at him. Lounging on the bed like this was no big deal. No sheet, no shame, no hesitation.
The room felt too small, too warm. Each rustle of fabric amplified my racing pulse. My usual grace abandoned me as I struggled to dress while maintaining my modesty barrier. Numbers and statistics couldn’t save me now. Not when Shep’s heated gaze tracked my every movement.
Yet beneath the panic fluttering in my chest, another sensation bloomed.
When I dared peek over my shoulder, the hunger in his blue eyes sent warmth cascading through me.
Not just desire—though that simmered between us like a tangible force—but appreciation.
Admiration. As though he saw past my careful facades to something genuine underneath.
The realization slammed into me with the force of a wrecking ball. My chest constricted, memories of Cale’s betrayal threatening to overwhelm me. I’d sworn off hockey players for a reason. Their competitive drive, their need to win at any cost—relationships were just another game to conquer.
Mom would tell me to trust my instincts. But my instincts had led me straight into Shep Landon’s bed, jeopardizing everything I’d worked so hard to build. No amount of analytical thinking could rationalize away that truth.
He’d softened me up with his sweet tea chicken and daddy-daughter stories and like a certifiable idiot, I’d succumbed to his aw-shucks charm. Again.
I could lie to myself, pretend I hadn’t known exactly what I’d signed up for when I followed him home last night. But the instant I agreed to dinner, I’d already caved.
My fingers curled around the steering wheel, the leather creaking beneath my grip. It wasn’t his fault I had the moral fortitude of leftover spaghetti.
The car dash in front of me blurred and I blinked fast to clear my eyes. No tears, Meredith Wylie. You will not cry.
Shep braced his forearm on the roof of my car, leaning down until his face filled the open window. Too close. Too damn tempting. “How about I give you a ride, Merri-bean? Drop you at your place, let you do what you need, and still get you to work on time.”
A clean, logical solution. Except logic had nothing to do with the riot inside me. Panic clawed up my throat, sharp as a thousand tiny blades. Someone could see us. Someone would see us. And if they did—
I jerked my head, a single, hard shake. “No.”
His brows pulled together. “No?”
The question hung between us, heavy with everything I couldn’t afford to say.
No to the ride. No to last night. No to the risk of watching my career crumble over another hockey player’s smile.
No to throwing away everything I’d built, every plan I’d chased since Mom died, just because Shep felt good. Felt right.
I forced steel into my voice. “No, you can’t drive me home.”
He tilted his head, confusion flickering across his face. In another world—one where I didn’t have so much to lose—he’d look downright cute. A Golden Retriever who didn’t understand the rules but was still eager to play.
But I couldn’t let Shep be cute. I had to cut cute out of my life.
“We have time—”
“It’s not about the time.” My fingers curled around the steering wheel, gripping tight enough to hurt.
“I can’t be seen with you. And I definitely can’t be seen with you after spending the night.
It’s not just the no-frat rules you keep conveniently brushing off.
Maybe you have a reason to be cocky, but I’m not some franchise darling filling seats and selling jerseys.
The organization won’t think twice about cutting me loose.
” The words burned like acid, but I pushed through.
“And even if that weren’t true? I have my own rule about not dating hockey players. Been there, got the heartbreak.”
“You’re stressed out about this, I get it. We can figure something out.” He reached through the open window, traced my cheekbone with his thumb, the gentle touch at odds with the havoc he was wreaking. “No one has to know until we’re ready. We can be careful.”
A bitter laugh escaped me. “Careful? Like sneaking around makes any of this okay?” I yanked away from his touch, my chest so tight I could barely breathe. “You think this is just another game? Another challenge to win?”
I needed to be able to walk into my office with my head held high. I needed to hold out against Wilson and his inevitable suspicions. How long before someone noticed a lingering look? A smile that lasted too long? The wrong tone in my voice during video review?
But Shep’s presence scrambled my thoughts, made me forget why I’d sworn off hockey players after Cale. Made me want to believe his promises of secrecy and careful planning.
“It’s not only about being seen.” I swallowed hard.
I needed to tell him about Cale. Because as annoyed as I was about him wanting to play some secret relationship game, he’d snuck under my skin and found the weakness in my defenses.
I needed him to back off. To stop pushing.
To keep his Golden Boy Aw Shucks charm to himself.
Because I was terrified I would really cave—that I’d start to want, need, more than last night.
“It’s everything. You treat life like one big competition. And you’re a hockey player.” My voice cracked on the last word, the image of his daughter’s schedule on his fridge blurring in my mind. The vulnerability he’d shown me last night fading like morning mist.
“You keep saying that like it explains everything. So you dated a player before—”
“Cale Johansen.” The memory burned through me, sour and rancid.
The hotel bar scene crashed over me—his hands buried in another woman’s hair, his teammates’ knowing looks, the whispers that had chased me back to Arvon.
Not just Cale’s betrayal, but the judgment that followed.
Like his cheating somehow reflected my worth, my abilities, everything I’d worked to achieve.
“We tried to make our relationship work, even after he moved up to play with the Rangers. I’d transitioned from attending college to working for the college team.
It was a lot of pressure. Factor in the fact that we had two different hockey schedules to mesh, and we struggled to keep up any sort of relationship. ”
“Understandable.”
“I thought so too. When the Rangers came to play the Renegades, I saw my chance. I took off from work to make it a long weekend. Bought a new dress, styled my hair… And walked in on him with another woman. His teammates from Arvon circled like sharks, laughing and whooping. Just another conquest for Cale to parade around, proving he could score anywhere, anytime. Who needs commitment when you can impress the boys? Or maybe it was just a normal weekend for him and I was too out of touch to realize it.”
“Jesus, Merri.” A muscle popped in his jaw. “That’s not just jacked up, that’s… fuck.”
My knuckles whitened on the steering wheel and I pressed deeper into the car seat.
“That wasn’t even rock bottom.” I raked my fingers through my hair, tugging at the roots.
“I’d had feelings for Cale and it hurt to see him like that.
It hurt to recognize our relationship had come to an end.
But the worst part, by a million miles, the worst part was going back to work on Monday.
Because Richland looks like a big city, but it acts like a small town.
And by Monday, everyone at the school knew about Cale. ”
I shook my head when Shep looked like he wanted to say something. I needed to get this out. Nip whatever had started between us in the bud, while I still could.
“Being a woman in men’s hockey means constantly justifying my choices. ‘Why not women’s hockey?’ they ask, like I haven’t done the math.” My voice rose, years of frustration breaking free. “No trophy matches the Stanley Cup’s prestige, and no league matches the NHL’s paycheck. Simple analytics.”
“Now I’ve got my shot at the NHL, at proving I belong here. Not as some statement about gender equality. But because I can do the job better than anyone out there, man or woman.”
“But I am a woman. And society still looks at us and makes decisions based on nothing more than the fact that I have two X chromosomes. Cale cheated? I must not have been woman enough to hold him. Cale cheated? I must not give him enough of what he wanted. Cale cheated? My fault.” The old shame burned in my chest.
Shep’s voice softened, but he forced out a breath through his nose like it was all he could do to speak calmly. “That is not how all men think.”
“No, but enough do. For months after Cale, whispers followed me through the halls at Arvon.” I grabbed Shep’s hand, desperate to make him understand.
“I stopped being Merri Wylie, video coach. Became Merri Wylie, the failure. The unreliable one. Like his betrayal somehow reflected my professional capabilities.” My voice cracked.
“I clawed my way back from that. I can’t risk falling again. ”
Silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken possibilities. The warmth of his hand in mine made my resolve waver. He squeezed my fingers.
“I can understand your worry there, Merri. A month ago I would’ve said this was just another challenge to tackle.
But having Hannah…” He rubbed the back of his neck, searching for words.
“She’s teaching me about responsibility.
About thinking beyond the moment and considering the consequences of my actions.
And I’m telling you, you can trust me to care for you and your career. ”
“You don’t get it. You can’t possibly get it.” The words came out sharper than intended, edged with bitterness. “You can’t possibly understand what I have to lose.”
He stepped back from the car, jamming his hands in his pockets as if touching me would shatter his self-control. “Don’t dismiss me as just another player who doesn’t understand consequences. Not anymore.”
Tears scalded the back of my eyes. Maybe if I worked in some other organization. Maybe I could let myself trust that Shep would be different. Maybe he was my forever guy. Maybe I was walking away from my chance at happiness.
Mom’s voice whispered in my head, urging me to be brave, to live loud and chase my dreams—to chase happiness. But her kind of courage belonged to a different world—one where women didn’t have to choose between love and career, where trust didn’t come wrapped in professional suicide.