by Jennie Marts
“I just want to know what’s going on with you and this new guy.” Trent squeezed her arm tighter.
“It’s none of your business.” She tried to sound tougher than she felt. He was really starting to hurt her.
“It is my business. Because you’re with me.”
Okay, this guy was really starting to piss her off. And her anger was powering her bravery. “I’m not with you. I told you that. We’re done. I don’t know why you can’t get that through your thick head. Are you so full of yourself that you can’t imagine a woman not wanting to be with you?”
“We’re done when I say we’re done.” His eyes were cold, and he gripped her arm tighter, pulling her closer to his chest. “And what you do reflects on me. Like when you go shaking your ass in front of the new guy on the team. How’s that supposed to make me look?”
Seriously? This was all about him. And how he would look. What an asshole.
This was the reason. The reason she’d instigated The Rule. The reason she didn’t date hockey players.
She looked up. Oh shit.
Another one of those hockey players was heading her way, and he looked pissed. Bane’s face was set in a hard expression of anger and his fists were clenched at his sides.
Oh no. Her dad had told him no fighting.
They’d already broken the instructions of no women. Twice.
She couldn’t let Bane get in trouble for something else because of her. She had to do something. And right now.
Calling up her courage, she twisted her arm and tried to break free of Trent’s grasp. “I don’t care how it makes you look. I don’t care about you at all. We are finished. Through. Get it? And by the way, I can shake my ass in front of anyone I want to. Now let go of my arm.”
Trent’s eyes were full of fury as he looked down at her, his mouth set in a tight line.
“She said to let go of her arm.” Bane clamped his hand down on Trent’s shoulder. A barely contained rage seemed to simmer just under the surface of his words.
Trent turned to Bane, his expression ranging from fear to annoyance to disdain. He was a bully, and bullies were only tough until someone bigger stood up to them. And Bane was definitely bigger. He stood several inches taller than Trent, his shoulders were broader, and his muscled arms were definitely bigger, especially the way they were flexed and held out from his sides.
Trent dropped her arm and pushed her back against Bane. “Fine. You’re welcome to my sloppy seconds. The bitch is not worth it anyway.”
“Yeah, she is.” Bane said the words seconds before his fist came up and plowed into Trent’s face. A horrible crack sounded as Trent’s nose broke, and blood splattered across the fireplace mantel.
“You asshole,” Trent yelled, blood dripping down his face. He charged at Bane’s chest, but Bane easily knocked him away.
Bane grabbed his hair and in one swift movement had turned and put Trent in a tight headlock. He spoke low and menacing into Trent’s ear. “Real men do not use their strength against women. Don’t you ever lay a hand on a woman again, especially Addison Cavanaugh. In fact, I don’t want you to even look at her. If you see her coming, you get out of her way.” Bane tightened his grip on his neck. “You understand me, big man?”
“Yeah. Whatever.” Trent’s words were garbled. “I told you she’s not worth it anyway.”
Three of the Blueshirts rushed up and grabbed Bane, pulling him off Trent. “All right. Let him go. You made your point,” one of the guys said. “Save it for the ice.”
Bane dropped his arms but got in one more menacing threat. “I mean it.”
A small crowd of partygoers had gathered to watch the fight. It had all happened so fast. Addison stood to the side, blood splattered on her dress, too stunned to move.
Shit. Oh, shit. She had to get Bane out of here. Her dad was going to be so mad.
She grabbed Bane’s arm. “Let’s get out of here. Go cool off.”
He let her pull him toward the front door, seemingly unaware of the people staring at them.
Outside, the air was brisk and cold. She shivered against the night air and probably a little from the violence that had just erupted in front of her. She’d been around hockey her whole life, so she’d seen plenty of fights. But it was different when it was in your living room.
And when you were the reason it started.
Bane pulled off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. He hugged her to him and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen. He had his hands on you—I could see he was hurting you—and I just saw red. I wanted to tear him apart.” He pulled back. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and pulled the edges of his jacket around her. “Yes. I’m fine. Thank you. No one’s ever punched a guy for me before.”
“Well, that guy deserved it. And more.”
She shivered again. “Aren’t you freezing?”
He took a step back from her, stamping his foot against the snow in the grass. “Nah—I’m a hockey player—we’re used to being cold.” He looked down at the blood on his knuckles and wiped it on his pants. He gestured to the blood on the corner of the jacket. “I don’t think I’m getting my deposit back on this tux anyway.”
She smiled and shook her head. Damn, he was cute.
Before she could say anything else, the front door opened, and her father came storming out. The look on his face told her he was beyond pissed.
“What the hell is going on?” Her dad brushed past her and yelled at Bane.
“Dad, it wasn’t his fault. He—” She tried to take a step closer, but her father held up his hand.
“Addison, stay out of this. I’ve already heard what happened from half of my houseguests.” The fury in his voice was nothing compared to the anger that was in his eyes as he glared at Bane. “My guests. Did you hear me? People that I invited to my home. For a Christmas party. Not to witness an arrogant little shit bust the nose of one of my players and get blood on my wife’s carpet.”
Bane hung his head. “I’m sorry, sir. You’re right.”
“You’re damn straight I’m right. What the hell is the matter with you?” He was standing toe to toe with Bane, shouting in his face.
“I don’t know. My temper got the best of me. If you would just let me explain.”
“No. I don’t want to hear your explanation. It’s probably bullshit anyway. I gave you a simple set of instructions, but apparently they weren’t simple enough. You couldn’t even make it twenty-four hours. Hell, you couldn’t even make it to the end of your first day.”
“But, sir, if you would just let me—”
The coach shook his head, the anger in his face almost palpable. “I don’t have to let you do anything. I offered to look at you because your coach is a friend of mine, but I don’t need this kind of disruption and a troublemaker like you on my team. All I asked was that you keep it under control. No booze, no women, no fighting. It wasn’t that hard.”
The coach glared at Bane. “I said no booze, and yet I can smell the alcohol on you.”
“I wasn’t drinking tonight. It was one beer.”
Coach Cavanaugh held up his hand, cutting off any response. “I don’t want to hear excuses. I don’t want to hear justifications. All I want to hear is a simple yes or no.”
Addison watched as Bane tried to stuff down his frustration. “This is ridiculous.”
The coach’s voice was steely. “Were you drinking? Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“Did you get in a fight?”
“Yes, but—”
“No. I said I don’t want to hear it. Yes or no? Did you get in a fight?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s it. You’re done. I gave you a chance and told you all you had to do was keep your nose clean. Keep it under control. You haven’t even made it to the ice. Haven’t even made it one day. I don’t need that kind of nonsense on my team. I don’t need you on my team. You’re done.”
/> “Are you serious?”
“I’m completely serious. It’s over, Bane. You’re gone.”
This was getting way out of control. She had to do something. She had to stand up to her dad. Bane needed her, and she needed to do this. For herself.
She took a deep breath and stepped in front of Bane. “Dad, stop.”
Her dad’s eyes narrowed. “Addison, I told you to stay out of this. This is none of your concern.”
“Actually, it is my concern. Bane slugged that guy because he was protecting me. Trent Hadley is a complete asshole. He had a hold of my arm and wouldn’t let me go. He was the one making a scene. Bane was just standing up for me.”
Her dad looked from her to his possible new player.
She thought his expression was softening a little. “Dad, I mean it. Trent was physically hurting me, and Bane saved me. He didn’t punch him until after he said I was a worthless bitch.”
The coach glanced at Bane. “Is that true?”
Bane nodded and stepped forward, next to her. “Yes, it’s true. And I’m not sorry. I’m sorry that it happened in your home, and I owe an apology to you and your wife for that. But I’m not sorry I did it. If he walked out here right now, I’d punch the son of a bitch in the nose again.”
Addison’s heart swelled. She knew Bane shouldn’t have been fighting, but she loved the way he stood up for her. She slipped her hand into his and squeezed it.
The majority of her dad’s anger had slipped away. She had done it. She’d stood up for herself. And for Bane. And now her dad would let him stay on the team. Or at least give him a chance to prove his worth.
She watched her dad’s face and saw the instant that she’d made her mistake. Saw the split-second reaction when his gaze fell on their joined hands. Oh shit.
She pulled her hand away.
But it was too late.
“What the hell is going on here?” The coach’s fury was back, and this time she could see the veins sticking out in his forehead as he scowled at Bane. “Are you shitting me right now? I almost forgave the fighting. Addie almost had me convinced you were a stand-up guy. But this is utter bullshit. What part of no women do you not understand? Did you think I somehow meant that my own daughter was excluded from those instructions?”
“It’s not like that.”
The coach cut off Bane’s explanation, practically spitting his next words at him. “All I want is a yes or no. Are you—involved—with my daughter?”
Addison held her breath.
Bane nodded. “Yes.”
Coach Cavanaugh stared at him as if in utter disbelief. Then he raised his hand and pointed down the driveway. “You’re done. This is over. I want you out of my sight. Get off of my property now. And you’re on the next plane back to Colorado.” He shook his head in anger and disgust. “Let your coach deal with you. I’m through.”
He stormed back to the house, yelling at the valet as he passed, “Get him his car. He’s leaving.”
The valet grabbed a set of keys and took off running to find Bane’s car.
Addison stood frozen, still in shock over what had just happened. She glanced at Bane. He looked like he’d just been sucker-punched in the gut.
He ran a hand over his head. “I can’t believe it.”
Addison tried to take his hand, but he pulled it away. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.” He looked down at her, despair in his eyes. “I really like you, Addie. But this just isn’t gonna work. We tried, but there are just too many things against us.”
What was he saying?
“Look, I understand if you need time to cool off. Time to think.” But not time to walk away. Not time to end this. Not before they ever really got a chance to start.
“I don’t need time. I need hockey. In the span of two minutes, my career just went down in flames. Do you understand that? If my coach doesn’t take me back, my freaking career is over.”
The valet pulled up with Bane’s rental car, left the engine running, and handed Bane his keys.
Bane pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to him. “I’d appreciate you not saying anything to the press about what you saw here tonight.”
The valet held up his hands. “I don’t want your money, Mr. Bannister. I’m a huge fan of you and your brother. I would never say anything to get you in trouble or make you look bad.”
Bane smiled and stuffed the hundred in the kid’s pocket. “Thanks, buddy. I appreciate that.”
The valet grinned and hustled back to the valet stand.
Addison felt like her heart was breaking. Bane was one of the good ones. A guy that cared about his mom. That was nice to fans and stood up for women. She couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Bane, come on. We can talk about this.”
The smile fell from his face—replaced with a look of steely resolve. “No. There’s nothing to talk about it. I was stupid. I let my concentration slip. Let you get under my skin. I don’t know why I thought I could have both. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I need to put all of my focus on saving my career. If I even have a career to save. I’ve got to put all of my energy and attention on my game.”
The game. The effing game. This was what it would always come down to.
She’d thought he was different. But he wasn’t. He was just like the rest. Just like she was afraid he would be.
This was why she didn’t date freaking hockey players.
This is why she made The Rule.
To protect herself. Protect her heart. The heart that he was breaking.
Not just breaking, but ripping from her chest and tossing it to the ground. And whacking it with a hockey stick.
She reached for her chest. Her heart felt like it was shattering. She could actually feel an electrical buzz in her heart.
Wait. That was a real buzz. This time combined with the chiming notes of her cell phone.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Not now. She couldn’t deal with this right now.
She pulled the phone from her bra and checked the display. It was the magazine.
“Take it,” Bane said. “It’s what you’ve always wanted. Forget about me. I’m leaving anyway. Take the call.” He slid into his car and slammed the door.
She answered the phone as she watched him drive away. “Hello, this is Addison.”
Chapter Five
Bane ran down the airport terminal. He couldn’t miss this flight.
It was the only one heading to Denver that day. So she had to be on it.
Nothing in St. Louis had turned out like he’d planned. In fact, everything that happened had been what he hadn’t planned. He hadn’t planned to piss off his new coach or get in a fistfight with one of his team members. And he hadn’t planned to get kicked off the team and sent home.
And he sure as hell hadn’t planned to meet a girl who stole his heart and turned his world upside down.
Nothing made sense anymore. It was as if somewhere during that plane ride, everything that he knew to be true had changed. Had flipped sideways.
All he could think about was her. He hadn’t slept at all the night before—he tossed and turned—his mind racing with what he should have said. What he should have done.
And what he should have done was grabbed Addison by the hand and pulled her into the car with him. Not left her standing in the driveway, bewildered and brokenhearted.
He was an idiot.
He’d figured that out somewhere around the time the sun was coming up. He’d been an idiot to drive away. Hockey was important. It was his job, and it paid his bills, and he loved it. But it wasn’t everything. It wasn’t everything important.
He had a feeling that he’d driven away from the one thing that could end up being his everything.
And he’d gotten out of bed that morning knowing that the only thing he wanted—the only thing he needed—was to find her and win that one thing back.
But he’d been too late.
He’d gone to h
er apartment, and her roommate had told him that she’d already left. That she got the job, and they wanted her to start right away. She said Addie had booked a flight for today and spent the night packing her bags.
He’d raced to the airport, turned in the rental car, bought a last-minute ticket, and ran through the terminal.
His life had turned the night before on a series of moments. The moment that Addison walked down the stairs. The moment that he punched Trent in the nose. The moment that the coach noticed Addison holding his hand. The moment that he had driven away.
One moment had changed everything. One moment—one loss of control—one decision to let her go.
And now he had one chance—one chance to win her back.
***
Addison peered out the window of the plane. Took a last look at St. Louis and silently said goodbye. Goodbye to her old life.
The call from the magazine last night should have been a cause for celebration—should have had her jumping for joy.
But all she could think about was Bane. And how he’d driven away. How she’d lost something important.
She sighed and shook her head, as if to clear him from her thoughts. She’d spent the night thinking about him, going back and forth from anger to despair.
One minute she was pissed as hell—pissed that she had let herself fall for another hockey player—let herself break The Rule. The next she was crying, her heart broken, grieving for what could have been.
This morning, she had moved past mad and sad and moved on to resolved. She made up her mind to put him behind her. To go to Denver, to take this amazing job, to move forward and have a wonderful adventure.
And to be happy.
She needed to put her brief, but incredible, time with Bane in a box and stick it high on a shelf at the back of the closet.
Let him go and move on.
Speaking of which, it seemed like it was about time for this plane to be moving on. She checked her watch and noted they only had about five minutes before takeoff. The seat next to her was empty, and she sighed in relief.
This trip was going to be painful enough—with the memories of Bane and their flight the night before keeping her company—and she didn’t need an annoying seatmate that wanted to chat about the weather for the next several hours.