Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Austin had never considered himself particularly violent, but the thought of, say, pushing Lilly in front of a truck had kept him warm all night. He didn’t want to kill her, but he wouldn’t cry if she broke a leg or an arm or two.
His accident fantasies hadn’t changed the fact that he was a nervous wreck.
It had taken some effort to take Hazel’s words to heart, but ultimately, she was right: Sooner or later, he’d have to deal with Lilly, and he’d prefer to do it sooner.
It had reassured him that Lilly hadn’t refused his…
well, call it a request, to come to the game today.
He remained wary and wasn’t going to give her the chance to pull the wool over his eyes. But shit, today’s game…
“You’re incredibly unfocused, aren’t you?” Moreau commented as they walked down the hall to the locker rooms.
“I’m fine.”
“Fox, you don’t have to talk about it, but…who the hell is the mother?”
“Remember the night before I was going to file for divorce?”
“Fuck, it’s Roller-girl.”
“Yep.”
Moreau narrowed his eyes and looked at him skeptically.
“What?”
“You never mentioned that you slept with her.”
No. It was silly, but he’d wanted the memory for himself. It had seemed too precious to share with anyone.
God, what a fucking idiot he was.
“Did you want to know?” he asked sharply. “Should I reenact the scene for you?”
“Nah, you’re a terrible actor. But it’s unlike you to have slept with her. You were separated, but still married to Christine. And you just don’t do impulsive shit.”
No, he didn’t. But Lilly had been…the whole evening had been an out-of-body experience for him.
Not that he’d ever say that aloud. But if Christine hadn’t called him…
Shit, maybe he would have flown to Italy to see Lilly.
He’d been so damn enchanted. And yes, that wasn’t a word he usually used, but he couldn’t think of a better one.
Everything about their encounter had been effortless.
Easy. As if they’d known each other forever.
He hadn’t told her he’d left his wife – not just his girlfriend – because he hadn’t been able to think straight. There hadn’t been any malicious intent.
Ultimately, all of that was irrelevant and now, nothing more than a memory of a more naive version of himself, the one that Christine had killed long ago.
“The evening was a complete mess. I have no idea what possessed me,” he lied.
He was so damn angry at Lilly that he wanted her to take all the blame. She wanted her to admit that she had seduced him. That she had deliberately hurt him. That it hadn’t been anything special and that he didn’t remember the evening at all.
But instead, Lilly had been living rent-free in his mind for almost ten years and every word they’d exchanged had reverberated in Dolby Surround in his mind.
He hadn’t actually been drunk, she hadn’t made the first move – not really – and seeing her again felt like a punch to the gut. A punch delivered by his younger self.
“Okay,” Moreau mumbled and dropped it. Fox was grateful for that.
They kept walking, and he could already hear his flock from afar, Matthew Payne’s excited voice echoing down the hall.
“Man, you’re right, Devreaux! Your hair is super silky. It’s like touching starlight.”
“What?” Dax exclaimed, confused. “Let me feel… Whoa! It’s softer than Lucy’s. What does it smell like? Hmm, raspberries? Nice.”
“I know,” Devreaux replied smugly. “That’s Fox’s shampoo!”
Fox rolled his eyes. “It’s time the guy found his own place,” he muttered to Moreau, opening the door.
Instant silence greeted them.
It wasn’t unusual for the team to be tense and nervous before the first game of the regular season. Normally, though, they didn’t stare at Fox like he was wearing a t-shirt that said, Please hug me, I need it!
Oh, fuck, they all knew. What the hell...?
As he sighed inwardly, he nodded to them and went to his seat between Moreau and Alvarez.
He’d assigned Leon the locker next to his so that the center wouldn’t get beaten up more often than absolutely necessary.
But at that moment, he regretted his decision.
The whole team kept giving him curious, sympathetic, or nervous glances, but they all had the sense not to bring up yesterday. Except for…
“So. You have a kid,” Leon said loudly, not because he was the bravest, but because he was the most brazen and stupid of them all.
“I have over twenty kids and they’re all sitting in front of me,” he snapped, turning his back on them as he slipped off his shoes. “The next one who opens his mouth gets a time-out and will be benched.”
“Seriously, leave him alone, Leon,” Ford whispered. “He’s probably still in shock.”
“Both of you shut up,” muttered Jack West, probably the most patient and laid-back of the group besides himself. At least, as long as you didn’t insult his girlfriend.
“Fox always says we should talk about everything,” his brother Dax pointed out. “So…”
He groaned and turned away. “Okay, that’s enough. How the hell do you guys know?”
He’d only confessed to Moreau, but Moreau kept his mouth shut even more reliably than pucks and that was saying something.
Everyone was silent…and Austin’s gaze landed squarely on Dax. “Did Lucy tell you?”
“In her defense, she talks in her sleep!”
“So she told you in her sleep?”
“No, she was fully conscious. But if she’s angry about something that’s happening on the team, I get yelled at. So she kind of owed me the information. And I swear, I only told Jack!”
Austin’s attention shifted to Dax’s brother. “So?”
“I only told Penny and Matt!” he immediately stated, defending himself.
“Well, I told everyone here,” Matt announced unabashedly. “Oh — and my mother.”
Fox groaned softly and rubbed his forehead. “Thanks, Payne.”
“I didn’t know it was a secret! Is having kids a secret now? So, after the Ice Bucket Challenge, is it going to be the Hide Your Kids Challenge now, or what?” He gave Moreau a meaningful look. Moreau had neglected to mention for the past few years that he’d practically adopted his niece.
“You keep one daughter a secret and you have to listen to it for the rest of your life,” he remarked angrily. “Well, everyone knows, Fox! So what? You couldn’t deny her existence anyway, and soon the whole country will know.”
Shit, he was right. Austin narrowed his eyes.
He had a headache — and hated his own no-drinking rule right now.
“Okay, guys,” he said, taking a deep breath until he regained the patience that had earned him the captaincy.
“I don’t want us stumbling around on the ice today because we are unfocused.
So, I’m going to say this once: Yes, I have a daughter.
No, I had no idea. Yes, it was a shock. No, it won’t affect my game, and no, that doesn’t change the fact that this is our season and I am going to get real angry if I catch someone drinking or messing around – Leon!
– because I’m fed up with narrowly missing out on the Cup.
Every time you break the rules, I take it personally and as disrespectful to me — your damn captain.
And believe me, you don’t want to incur my personal wrath because, right now, I have a hell of a lot at my disposal. ”
Possibly more than in his entire life.
Leon made a face and muttered audibly to Blake out of the corner of his mouth, “Man, how am I supposed to know when I’m messing around? Every orgasm has a purpose for me.”
“Whenever you think, ah, I don’t really need to, it’s senseless,” Blake remarked.
Leon stared at him in disbelief. “You sometimes look at a hot woman and think, I don’t really need to? What’s wrong with you?”
“Any woman you don’t at least like is a wasted evening, Leon,” Jack West muttered.
The young player frowned. “But wouldn’t I have to talk to her to find out if I like her?”
“You don’t talk to the women you sleep with?” Devreaux asked, stunned.
“You do?” Leon asked, shocked.
Austin almost smiled. But then Matt raised his hand.
“Fox, who’s the mother?” he inquired.
God, were they all planning to lose a tooth today or what? As if the risk of being a hockey player wasn’t high enough. “That’s none of your business.”
“Well, I’m just asking,” he said, drawing out his words, “because there was a blonde woman outside by security who wanted to see you, but they wouldn’t let her through. And I thought maybe…” He shrugged.
Oh, shit. He’d actually given the head of security, Mike, a description of Lilly and Delfina, and…
There was a knock on the locker room door.
Every single head turned.
It didn’t surprise him. No one ever knocked. Anna Temple, their doctor and Moreau’s other half, had done it her first week, but quickly discovered it was unnecessary, so…
“Come in,” Leon called out, grinning at him.
The door opened and Fox’s stomach clenched. His neck prickled, his fingertips tingled…and that was even before Lilly walked in. Before his entire body tensed in response to her presence. Before his chest tightened and his hands clenched of their own accord.
“Oh,” she murmured, noticing the dozens of eyes on her, but he had to give her credit: not all women would stay so staunch at the sight of a whole roster of muscular hockey players who looked like they were in the middle of a strip poker game.
She glanced around slowly, as if she’d seen more impressive things, until her gaze settled on him. “Austin,” she said quietly. “You said they’d get dressed if you asked them?”
“Austin,” Leon echoed, waggling his eyebrows.
He ignored him. “Oh, we always have a few exhibitionist adversaries,” he said, unfazed. “And I told you to come by — not come in. Charkov, pull up your damn pants.”
The Russian defenseman grumbled something unintelligible but obliged, while everyone stared at Lilly as if she were the damn Stanley Cup.