Her eyes widened, softened for just a second before she puckered her forehead. “Nope. I’m giving you up. I refuse to cost you this much. I won’t.”
“You’re not going to cost me anything. We’re going to keep us on lockdown so tight it would take the NSA to figure it out. Just until the end of the season. The plan stays. I can’t walk away from the team and leave them hanging, but I’m sure as fuck not going to lose you.”
She blinked rapidly. “I can’t let you do this. Not for me.”
“Then let me do it for me. I need you, Pepper. And if you walk away, I’ll just go to your dad and tell him anyway. Then it would have been for nothing, and I’ll still come after you. This—what we have—is rare. I know that much.”
“That’s blackmail,” she accused, tears welling in her eyes.
“That’s creative negotiation,” I countered. “Please, Pepper. Don’t get scared. Don’t give up because it’s hard. Please don’t tell me you could walk away when I can’t—that I’m the only one out here in the deep end of the ocean.” We hadn’t labeled us. Hadn’t discussed our future, or where our relationship might fit into that. Maybe I really was the only one invested. Fuck, just the thought of that hurt like a bitch.
“I don’t want to give you up,” she admitted, leaning into my hand. “You’re not the only one in the deep end. I just don’t want to be your regret. I can’t be.”
“I could never regret you.”
I leaned forward and kissed her gently, just a soft brush of our lips.
She sighed and softened against me.
“What do you say, Pepper? You in this with me?” I asked, more than a little nervous to hear her answer.
She wove her fingers deep into my hair and nodded. “I’m in if you are. But stakes just went up, and my dad’s holding the cards.”
I kissed her again and smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve always had a great poker face.”
Chapter 13
Pepper
“You have to tell Dad it was you,” I said the second I’d finished jotting down my stats. It was game number forty-six, and we were up against a solid-as-hell-looking Vancouver. Ivy had asked to sit next to me in the box, and I was throwing sentences at her every chance I got a break.
“Should you even be talking?” Ivy asked, slightly jilted.
“No, I really shouldn’t.” Tracking stats was by no means easy, but I was focused and only spoke when the game wasn’t in play.
“Then why waste your time?”
“You asked to be here with me, Ivy,” I said. “And you’ve been dodging me at the apartment. I needed to talk to you, and you’re here, so I’m making the best of it.”
She huffed. “I can’t tell, Dad. He’s already ruined everything for me.”
My gut twisted. “Did Crosby…”
“No,” she said when I didn’t continue. “But he’s been colder. With good reason, but I mean more to him than his position. I know it.”
I couldn’t comment because a sniper on the opposing team retrieved the puck and soared toward Eric. A crack, one hell of a shot, and a fast block by Eric had the crowd roaring. I jotted down yet another block for Eric, and then the players headed toward the bench for a timeout.
“You need to be careful,” I said, finally looking my sister in the eyes. “I don’t want you to get your heart broken. You know these hockey players,” I said, swallowing the knot in my throat. “The game comes first. Always.”
“Thanks.” She rolled her eyes. “Crosby is bigger than that. He knows it’s not my fault.”
I shook my head. “I have no clue what you see in him.” The only behavior I’d seen from Crosby was obnoxious, self-centered, and all about the score. Any kind of score. Plus, the other guys gave him mad shit in the locker room, and not in the normal we’re bros way, but in the you’re a dick way. That told me enough.
“You don’t know him,” she snapped. “And you think all hockey players are the same. They’re not.”
That much was true.
God, how could I sit here and lecture Ivy on dating a player when I was doing the same thing?
“I’m sorry,” I said, rubbing my brow. “I just want to protect you.”
“Then stop asking me to tell Dad,” she said, her voice softer.
“My career, Ivy. This is my career.”
“And he fired Crosby. Not you. You’re safe.” She sighed. “If he found out it was me?” She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “He’d tear into me. Again. I’m already his biggest disappointment,” she said. “Please, don’t add to it.”
My mouth popped open, tears stinging my eyes. “You’re not a disappointment—”
“Yes, I am. I’m not a math genius. I’m a want-to-be reporter for a gossip magazine. And so far, all I’ve done is deliver coffee, not news.”
“You’ll work your way up,” I said. “You’re a phenomenal writer and have a tenacity like none-other. You will be the most feared reporter in Seattle one of these days.”
A small smile played on her lips. “You believe that?”
“Absolutely.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“Anytime,” I said, returning focus to the game as it started up again.
After a few minutes of play, I got a chance to speak. “You still need to tell Dad.”
“Ugh,” Ivy groaned. “Please, Pepper. Can you just do me a solid and let this die? We’re being more careful now. It won’t happen again.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, my eyes darting from player to player, giving more focus to the ones I needed to track. My brain switched from our conversation to my job, tracking and jotting and keeping tabs.
Ivy remained silent by my side, a weight in the back of my mind.
Eric blocked another shot.
Bentley scored in overtime.
And we ended up winning 2-1.
As the crowds filed out of the stands, and the players skated off the ice toward the locker rooms, I wrapped an arm around Ivy.
“I love you, sister,” I said. “More than anything in this world.”
“Ditto,” she said, leaning into me.
“I can’t take any more heat,” I said, knowing she didn’t have a clue about the heat Eric and I flirted with. Guilt stuck to my insides. I should tell her. I wanted to tell her. But…it wasn’t just my job at risk.
Fuck, we needed to figure things out. And fast.
Crosby had already gotten fired.
What if next time the picture really was me, making moon-eyes at Eric, wrapped in his perfect embrace?
Flashes played on rapid speed in my head—Dad firing Eric the same way he had Crosby, Edward and Marie losing the farm that had been in their family for decades. Eric, angry and regretful, finally realizing I was never worth the hassle brought down on him.
“Pepper?” Ivy nudged me, and I blinked out of the nightmare.
“What’s up?” I asked, noting that the stadium was almost cleared, the gentle hum of the Zamboni filling the space.
“He’s called your name like five times,” she said, motioning over her shoulder.
I turned, expecting to see Eric, but it was Mason who was waving from the landing a few rows up.
“Pepper!” He called, smiling as he waved me over to him. I gave him a one-second-gesture and turned back to Ivy.
“We okay?” I asked.
“Always,” she said and hugged me again.
“And you’ll think about what I said?”
She rolled her eyes but nodded. “You’ll see,” she said. “He’s not like the others.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from challenging that. I was emotionally wrung out, from the picture, the firing, the secrets with Eric, all that was at stake, and then simply doing my dream job. It was all wound up inside me in a tangled mess I wasn’t sure how to unravel.
“Mason’s a player, too, you know,” Ivy said as I headed toward the stairs. “Even if it isn’t NHL status.”
It was my turn to roll my
eyes. “Mason is history.”
“History repeats itself.”
“Not in my life,” I said, shaking my head. “Trust me.” I flashed her a smile and took the steps up, feeling heavier than I had in so damn long.
“Sorry if I broke your rhythm,” Mason said when I’d reached him. “I figured since the game was over you’d be good to talk.”
“I just didn’t hear you,” I said. “Plus, you could’ve come down to me.” I pointed out as we turned into the hallway that led to the locker room.
I needed to go to my office, meet with the rest of the statisticians, and enter the numbers into the computer.
“Right,” he said. “Anyway, you headed to the locker room?”
“Not exactly,” I said. “My office is next to it though, why?”
“Just curious.”
I pinched my brow. “You waited an entire game just to walk me to my office? I’m not buying it.”
He huffed. “Fuck, Pepper. You never let one go, do you.”
I gaped at him. “I don’t have time for games, Mason. What do you want?”
“Ouch,” he said, feigning pain. “What’s got you in a bad mood. Didn’t you see, we won.”
I narrowed my gaze on the way he said we, as if he were already a member of the Sharks’ team.
I came to a halt in front of my office and crossed my arms over my chest. “Well, thanks for walking me,” I said, turning with my hand on the knob.
“Pepper, wait,” Mason said, stopping me by grabbing my elbow.
I shook off his touch. Waiting.
“Look, Crosby is gone,” he said, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. “I know Coach will pull from the farm team. Will you put in a good word for me?”
And there it was. The sole reason Mason had paid me any attention since I’d moved back. It wasn’t because we’d once dated. It wasn’t because he wanted to be friends. He wanted my help.
“Or at least help me set up a sit-down with your dad?”
I snorted. “Dad doesn’t need to hear words to pick a player.”
Mason tilted his head.
“He needs to see. Goals. Steals. Assists. Everything on the ice. It doesn’t matter if you had dinner with him every Friday night for a year. And it sure as hell won’t matter if I say anything. You have to show him on the ice. Nothing else will do.”
Mason considered that for a moment before planting me with a cheesy grin. “Yeah,” he said, nudging me. “But all the rest of it couldn’t hurt, right? Please?”
I shook my head. “You know I can’t. I’m employed by the Sharks now. Conflict of interest and all that.”
“Can’t,” he said, his smile falling. “More like won’t. I just need a chance—”
“Hey, Pepper,” Eric’s voice cut off Mason’s plea. “Can I talk to you about my block stats for a second?”
Every inch of my skin tingled when I looked at him.
Freshly showered, hair tied in a knot at the base of his head, his ripped body covered in Under-Amour-post-game-wear.
“We were in the middle of something, Gentry,” Mason snapped.
“No,” I countered, glancing at Mason. “I told you, I can’t. I’m sorry.” I sighed and motioned to Eric to come on in.
We left Mason standing there as Eric shut the door of my office behind him.
I’d barely had enough time to get used to the small space—just a desk, computer, and sensible chair—but Eric’s presence filled it like there wasn’t an inch left. Somehow, seeing his tall, muscled frame standing before my desk made it ten times smaller.
I set my iPad down and gestured to him. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating with the guys right about now?”
He furrowed his brow, his eyes noting the distance between us despite the closed door. “Um,” he said, clearing his throat. “I wanted to celebrate with you.”
My heart flipped, my stomach melted, and then my nightmare from earlier coated everything in ice-cold fear.
“You did amazing tonight,” I said. “You should go live it up. Reward yourself.”
He smirked. “You’re the only reward I’d ever want.”
A cross between a sigh and a whimper escaped my lips.
“I’ve got so much work to do,” I said, and I hated myself a little for it. It was the truth, but it didn’t mean I wouldn’t want to wrap myself around him when I was finished. But, with everything that happened in the past few days…I needed thinking space.
“Did I do something wrong?” He asked stepping closer.
“No,” I said. “Of course not. I really have work.”
Eric reached for me, his hand trailing the length of my arm. “Then why don’t you head over after you’re done?”
I nodded, pulling away from his touch and walking behind the safety of my desk. I swiped my iPad and fired up my computer. “Depends on the time I get out of here.”
He tilted his head, the intensity in his eyes cracking every inch of resolve I had. I could see it there—the pain and the slight hint of understanding. “All right,” he said, shrugging those gloriously muscled shoulders of his.
Damn it, what am I doing?
I didn’t have a clue. That was why I needed a minute to think. I always knew my next step, next move, next everything. Everything I’d done since that first kiss with Eric had turned my world so upside down.
“I’ll text you when I’m done,” I said as he headed toward the door. Everything inside me begged to stop him, to lock the door and have him bend me over the desk.
“Sounds good,” he said, his tone low, gravely. He opened the door, one foot outside.
“Eric!” I blurted.
“Yeah?” He turned back, his eyes hopeful.
The nightmare of him losing everything played in my mind again and my shoulders sank.
“Great game tonight,” I said.
He pursed his lips, blinking a few times like he’d heard me wrong.
“Thanks,” he said, chuckling slightly as he shut the door behind him.
I sank into my chair, head in my hands.
The work I’d dreamed of for years sat in front of me, an easy completion to one hell of a day. But my personal life plagued the center of my chest, an equation I couldn’t solve, and I had no clue how to deal with it.
Chapter 14
Eric
Mason-fucking-Hall. If I never had to see that douchebag again, it would be too soon. Yet here he was, on my ice, coming at me like he had something I couldn’t take.
My focus narrowed to the puck, the movement of his feet, the angle he held his stick at. The noise of the rink faded to the sound of my breath within my helmet.
Hall shot.
I reached out glove-side.
He looked at me with expectation.
I obliged, dropping the puck from where I’d caught it in my glove.
Not today, fucker.
A save had never felt so good.
Maybe I was an asshole, but damn it felt good to watch his shoulders drop as he skated to the back of the line. Double as good when I caught Pepper watching.
Just add immature to the asshole label.
Coach had brought up four players from the minors as a try-out of sorts. He hadn’t been joking when he’d fired Crosby over a week ago.
But as much as I hated Crosby, I would have gladly traded Hall to have him back. The guy was entitled, lazy, and cocky as fuck. And if he didn’t stop sitting in Pepper’s office every chance he got, I was going to shove his stick so far up his ass that—
Thwap!
I knocked another shot to the ground from Minor League Number Two and prepped for Number Three to skate forward.
And so it went for the next hour, adding in a scrimmage or two.
The prospects weren’t bad, but they weren’t ready for the NHL, either. Then again, someone had taken a chance on me once, too.
“Damn,” Connor muttered as we walked toward the locker room. “If that’s what we have to work with…”
“The
n we’ll have to make it work,” I said with way more certainty than I felt.
We pushed through the locker room doors, I took my seat on the bench and began to unclip my leg pads. The prospects were grouped on the bench nearest the door—the only one with empty lockers.
“Look how cute they are, all wide-eyed with wonder,” Lukas cooed. “Like their first time at Disneyland.”
I stifled a laugh and shook my head. They did look a little like that, to be honest. Sometimes it was hard to remember that while I was doing everything I could to be at the top of my game, there had been a time where I wasn’t even in the locker room.
“How’d you guys feel?” I threw out the olive branch.
“Amazing and really nervous,” Number Three answered.
“Yeah, I feel you on the nerves,” Two added.
“No reason to feel nervous, boys,” Hall answered like he had any idea what the fuck he was talking about. “Just do your best so you know you left it all out there on the ice. That’s what Coach Harris really cares about.” He gave them a superior nod, and I just about laughed.
“Must be nice to have the inside track, Hall,” Four commented with a hefty dose of sarcasm.
Huh. I liked that one.
“Well, I mean, I did date Pepper in high school, until our dreams took us different directions.”
My head turned so slowly it felt scripted, and it was all I could do not to drop my jaw. Holy shit was that the most interview-prepped answer ever.
“Gentry, those were some great saves today,” Bentley called out.
“Thanks,” I answered, catching the subtle shake of his head as he glanced between Hall and me.
Yeah, I knew I had to play it cool around this asshole.
“True. You’re a pretty decent goalie, Gentry,” Hall added in.
Do not react. Do not react. Do. Not...fuck it.
“Stopped every shot you put up,” I fired back.
His jaw flexed. Ha.
“So, you and Pepper going to reignite that spark?” Number Two asked.
Yep, Number Four was my pick so far.
Hall gave a little smirk that made me want to throw my cup at him, but I managed to put my gear in my locker. “I can’t see why we wouldn’t. We spend a lot of time together when I’m here. I know she wants to, and to be honest...that flame never quite died out. You know?”
Blocker (Seattle Sharks Book 5) Page 14