Playing Hard: A Chesapeake Blades Hockey Romance (The Chesapeake Blades Book 3)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  Shannon swallowed back a sigh and readjusted the grip on her gear bag. She could either walk over to Mac and wait with him, or she could give Caleb the few minutes he asked for.

  If Mac wasn’t so freaking intimidating, if he didn’t scare her just the tiniest bit…

  As an excuse, it was fairly lame—even if it was mostly true. But if she was going to be honest with herself, she had to admit she was curious to hear whatever Caleb had to say. What excuse would he give her? Or would he try to spin it somehow, to defend his actions—his attitude?

  She clenched her jaw and turned to face him, meeting his gaze with her own direct one. “Fine. You have until TR comes back.”

  Relief flashed across his face as he moved toward her, reaching for her once more. He stopped, hesitating, then pointed to the bleachers to their right. “Can we sit down and—”

  “No. If you have something to say, just say it.”

  He nodded. Jammed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. Nodded again and glanced around. He finally let out a heavy sigh and met her impatient gaze. “You’re okay after that hit? It looked like you had the wind knocked out of you.”

  “Seriously? That’s what you wanted to say?” Shannon shook her head and took a step back, throwing his words from last week back at him. “Yeah, Caleb. I’m fine. It’s a tough sport. It gets physical sometimes. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

  Was it her imagination, or did he actually flinch in discomfort?

  “That’s not—I know you can. You’re a damn good player. A great goalie.”

  “For a woman, you mean.”

  Emotion flashed in his eyes. Anger. Impatience. Regret. All swirling together in those deep green depths, threatening to draw her in. Caleb stepped closer, looking down at her. Was he trying to use his height to deliberately intimidate her? Yeah, like that would work. She squared her shoulders and tilted her chin up, refusing to give even an inch.

  “No, not for a woman. For anyone.” There was a steely determination in his voice, almost a hint of a bite that she didn’t understand. Was he pissed because he had to finally admit it? She wanted to ask him, opened her mouth to do just that when he finally sighed and stepped back, his shoulders slumping. “And I’m sorry.”

  “Fine. You’re sorry.” She slung the bag over her other shoulder and started to walk away but he reached for her, closed his hand around hers and tugged.

  “Shannon—”

  She pulled her hand from his, ignoring the scalding heat of his touch, ignoring the pleading in his eyes. “What is it, Caleb? What? You said you were sorry. Fine. Your conscience is clear. Now leave.”

  “I don’t want to leave. Not until we talk.”

  “What else is there to talk about?”

  “I—” He took a deep breath, ran one hand down his face and along the back of his neck as he stared up at the dusty steel beams above them. He exhaled, lowered his head and stared at her. “I’m an ass. And you were right. I was pissed that we were losing. Not just losing, but losing to you. To all of you. I didn’t want to believe you guys were better than us. Couldn’t believe it. And when you blocked that shot—”

  He paused, exhaled deeply and looked around. Shannon followed his gaze but there was nothing around them. Her teammates were gone and there was no sign of the two guys who had been in the stands with Caleb earlier. Not even a sign of TR. The rink was empty now, except for Mac, who hadn’t moved from his spot by the door.

  Shannon looked back at Caleb. His discomfort was obvious, from the way he kept shifting his weight from foot-to-foot, to the way his gaze darted from hers to the floor and back again.

  “I kept telling myself I was pissed because you guys were a new team. That you didn’t have the experience we have. That you hadn’t been playing as long as we have. But that wasn’t it. You were right: I was pissed that we were losing to a bunch of women. And I’m sorry. Sorrier than you’ll ever know.”

  Did she believe him? Yes, she did. His discomfort was too real, the edge to his voice too rugged to be fake. And she had a feeling that the admission cost him more than she could ever know.

  But it didn’t change anything. It didn’t change her anger, her frustration and disappointment.

  Her hurt.

  Because what he’d done had hurt. Not physically—her wrist was fine; the collision tonight had actually hurt worse. The pain she felt was emotional, not physical.

  Because Caleb was no different than some of those boys she had played with growing up. No different than any other man who turned tail and ran because they were intimidated by her. Because their egos couldn’t handle it. She thought he was different and had foolishly let herself get too close, had opened up in a way she never had before. She didn’t think she’d be this hurt if it had turned out he was playing her, like she had first suspected.

  She swallowed against the lump of emotion forming in her throat and forced herself to nod. She couldn’t manage a smile, not even close. “Thank you for the apology. Now I have to go—”

  “Go? But I thought—”

  “Thought what, Caleb? That you’d apologize and that would be it?”

  “No, but—” He hesitated, glanced over her shoulder then met her eyes. “So that’s it? You just walk away, like we never happened?”

  “Caleb—”

  “I don’t get it. I was an ass. I know that. But can’t we talk about it? Can’t we at least try?”

  “Try?” She cleared her throat, hoping he didn’t hear the emotion in her voice. “You mean until the next time your ego takes a hit from something I do? Because it will, Caleb. I am who I am. I can’t help that, and I’m not going to change just to make you feel better.”

  “I’m not asking you to.”

  “Not yet, no. But you will.” Because they did. They always did.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Don’t I?”

  He stepped closer, his eyes flashing with a hint of hurt. No, not hurt—disappointment. But why? What did he have to be disappointed about?

  “No, Shannon, you don’t know that. I’m not one like those guys you’ve scared off in the past.”

  “Scared off?” She laughed, the sound brittle and forced. “Oh, you mean the ones I intimidated? The ones with the fragile egos?”

  “I’m not like them.”

  “But you are, Caleb.” She blinked, silently cursing the unwanted moisture burning her eyes. “You just did a better job of hiding it than most.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Shannon spun on her heels and walked away, her steps hurried.

  She couldn’t believe it—she was walking away, even though part of her screamed to stop. To let Caleb talk. To trust his words and believe he really did want to try. But she couldn’t. She was afraid to, could admit that to herself at least. Afraid of what he made her feel. Afraid that the hurt she felt now would be a hundred times worse the next time.

  And there would be a next time, she had no doubt about that. No matter how much he insisted otherwise, Caleb was just like all those other guys: the boys who didn’t know what to make of her and the men who couldn’t handle a strong woman.

  So she walked away, no matter how hard it was to do.

  Caleb called after her, started following her—she could hear him behind her. But Mac was suddenly there, his scarred face grim and foreboding as he stepped around her, using his hulking body as a shield.

  TR approached her, sympathy and understanding etched on her face. “Are you okay? Do you want to do this another time?”

  Shannon pulled in a shaky breath and wiped one hand across her eyes. “No, I’m good. Let’s get this done and over with.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. Positive.” She glanced over her shoulder, saw Mac still standing at her back, making sure Caleb didn’t come after her. “He’s, uh, he’s pretty handy to have around, huh?”

  TR frowned, impatience flashing in her pale blue eyes. “He has his moments. When he’s not being a pai
n in my ass.”

  “Relationships suck, don’t they?”

  “Relationships?” TR’s eyes widened, then she shook her head on a soft laugh. “There is no relationship. Not with us.”

  “But—I thought you guys were dating.”

  “Nope.” TR glanced over at Mac and Shannon didn’t miss the disappointment that flashed in her eyes. “Just friends. Or something. I guess.”

  Shannon had no idea what to say to that so, for once, she kept her mouth shut. TR led the way back to the bleachers and took a seat. Shannon dropped her gear bag and sat next to her, watching as the other woman pulled a notepad and several pens from her tote bag.

  “No tape recorder?” Shannon regretted the question as soon as it left her mouth.

  “Not yet, no.” TR shifted on the bench, crossed one long leg over the other, then balanced the notepad on her knee. And then she just sat there, her head tilted to the side, watching.

  And watching some more.

  Shannon shifted, glanced over her shoulder, then looked down at herself, wondering if her shirt was buttoned the wrong way or if she had somehow spilled something all down the front.

  “Is, um, is something wrong?”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

  “This one’s personal.”

  Shannon sat back, suddenly eager to put more distance between them. “How personal?”

  “It probably crosses some boundaries.”

  “Okaaaaay. Do I have to answer?”

  The barest hint of a smile curled TR’s full mouth. “Of course not.”

  “Then ask away.”

  “What’s really going on with you and Caleb?”

  Shannon didn’t even hesitate, just simply waved her hand like she was shooing away an annoying gnat. “Next question.”

  “I was just curious because you two seemed to really be into each other at Sammie’s wedding.”

  “Yeah, well, things changed.”

  “Like?”

  Shannon dropped her gaze, suddenly preoccupied with a piece of invisible lint on her pants leg. She toyed with the material, rubbing her finger against it. Back and forth, back and forth. Then she exhaled, loudly, and looked back up.

  Not quite able to meet TR’s direct gaze.

  Not quite able to hide her disappointment.

  “Turns out his ego was more fragile than I thought it was.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You were at the exhibition game. You saw what happened.”

  “I did, yes. But I’m not sure what that has to do with his ego.”

  “He got pissed because they were losing to a bunch of girls. Embarrassed. Couldn’t handle it. He even admitted that tonight. To me. Out loud.”

  TR nodded but she didn’t exactly look convinced. “I guess that will make next week’s little show at the Banners’ game awkward, huh?”

  And shit. Shannon had completely forgotten about that. The Blades were scheduled to do another mini-scrimmage during the first intermission of the game. She had no idea why—this was their fourth one, at least. And it was a weeknight game, which meant she’d have to leave work early.

  Maybe there was a way to get out of it. They didn’t need her and Karly there, not really.

  Except they kind of did because they didn’t have a third back-up.

  Shit.

  She must have said the word out loud because TR leaned forward, her smile a little uncertain. “Does that mean it won’t be awkward? Or it will?”

  “It means it doesn’t matter because I won’t even see him. Which is fine by me.”

  “Because you want someone you don’t intimidate.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Someone who supports what you do?”

  “Of course.”

  “You’re not really into social media, are you?”

  Shannon frowned at the sudden change of topic. Maybe TR was starting the interview now and that was one of the questions. “Not really, no. I mean, I have accounts but I’m not on them much. Actually, I pretty much ignore them. It’s too much of a time-suck and…” Her voice trailed off, her gaze moving to the phone TR was playing with. Oh God, it was the recorder. Shannon hated that recorder, hated knowing that every word she said would be stored somewhere forever.

  TR turned the phone around so Shannon could see the screen. “Then you haven’t seen this.”

  It was a statement, not a question. Shannon shook her head, frowning as she leaned closer to the screen. It was footage from one of their games. They were playing Richmond, which meant it was from at least two weeks ago. And the footage was taken from the stands, not from behind the net, where the team had the video set up for the live streaming.

  Shannon watched as the camera zoomed in on Taylor, speeding toward the net. A second later, she scored. The camera angle went a little crazy for a few seconds, as if whoever was filming had jumped up with everyone else to celebrate. Then Caleb’s face filled the screen, the dimple flashing in his cheek as he grinned.

  “Did you guys see that? Now that’s how you shoot a puck. You guys have no idea what you’re missing by not being here.”

  There was a break in the footage, then another shot, this one of Shannon making a save. Caleb’s face filled the screen again, that broad smile still on his face.

  “That is one of the best goalies I have ever seen play. And I would kill to have her play for us because she runs circles around Luke and Dan. Sorry guys, you know it’s true. And everyone else, hands-off. She’s mine.”

  Shannon’s jaw dropped. When had this even happened? She remembered the game, remembered Caleb being there, but she had no idea he had been filming anything.

  She snapped her mouth closed and shook her head. “So what? That was before Sammie’s wedding, before the exhibition game. It doesn’t mean anything—”

  “He posted this, too. Actually, he reposted it. From the Blades’ media page.” TR tapped something on the screen then flipped the phone back to her. It was the shot of that crazy-ass save she made more than a month ago, when Sammie had jokingly called her the limbo queen. Above the video link was a short post, just five quick words: Save of the decade! Wow!

  The post had thousands of likes and shares.

  “How come I never saw any of this?”

  “Caleb is great at posting stuff, but he doesn’t tag anyone. Unless you actually follow him, you’d never see it.”

  “That still doesn’t mean anything. Two posts, big deal. And they were from before the exhibition game so—”

  “There’s more than two. There are dozens. He even posted right after the exhibition game. And tonight, too, talking about…well, you should probably just watch for yourself.” TR grinned and shoved the phone back in her bag. “And speaking of the exhibition game, I want to hear all about it. What you were thinking. How it felt. How you came up with the strategy—”

  “Stop.” Shannon held her hand up, interrupting TR’s sudden stream of questions. “Wait. You can’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Start telling me something then stop and change the subject and tell me to look at it later. You can’t do that.”

  “But I thought you didn’t care.”

  “I—” Shannon snapped her mouth closed, frowning when she noticed the other woman’s knowing smile. “Did Caleb put you up to this?”

  “No.”

  “Taylor?”

  “No.”

  “Sammie?”

  TR laughed and shook her head. A few strands of her long, dark hair fell in her face and she brushed them away. “No. Nobody put me up to anything. I just thought you might want to see them.”

  “Why?”

  “I just thought you would, that’s all.” TR leaned forward and placed one slender hand on Shannon’s arm. “You’re right, Caleb did act like an ass that night. But at least he realized it and apologized.”

  “That doesn’t mean it won’t happen again.”

&nb
sp; “Doesn’t mean it will, either.”

  Shannon sighed and turned away, her gaze skimming across the empty rink. The deserted seats. The scratched glass and freshly-painted boards. She didn’t know what to think, how to feel, what to make of anything. Was she being too hard on Caleb? Expecting too much? Making more of it than it really was?

  Sammie thought she was, thought she should talk to Caleb and work things out. But Sammie was a newlywed, still riding the emotional high from remarrying her husband. She thought everyone should be in love.

  But even Taylor thought she should try talking to Caleb and couldn’t understand why Shannon was ignoring his calls. Taylor, of all people. Taylor, who had been convinced Caleb was simply trying to play her. Taylor, who had tried to warn Shannon away from Caleb in the first place. Shannon had even thrown that in her face, accusing her of being a hypocrite. Taylor had simply laughed and said she was wrong.

  But she wasn’t. Not really. No, Caleb hadn’t been playing her, but the end result was the same so that didn’t matter.

  Did it?

  Shannon sighed and turned back to TR, not surprised to see the other woman watching her. Studying her. Probably seeing too much.

  “Let me guess: you think I’m being too hard on him, too, just like everyone else.”

  “I’m not saying that, not exactly.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  “I saw you two together at the wedding. I watched how you were with each other. I just think you’d regret it if you didn’t at least talk to him more. That’s all.”

  That’s all.

  TR said it like it was no big deal, like talking to Caleb wouldn’t open her up to even more hurt. And that was the problem: she hadn’t expected what he’d done to hurt, but it did. That’s what scared her the most. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t hurt. The fact that she hurt meant she cared.

  More than she wanted to admit.

  And that terrified her.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Shannon stood in the empty hallway, staring at the door and telling herself, once again, that she needed her head examined.