On Thin Ice (A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance)

by Aven Ellis

  I rise, trying not to shake too much as she kisses me on the cheek in greeting.

  “Thank you,” I say, holding back tears. “Thank you for coming.”

  CiCi smiles at me. “This will be a piece of cake. Trust me.”

  “I am not running a fraternity house!” Peter’s voice bellows through the closed doors.

  I wince.

  “Don’t mind Peter. I’ve got this,” CiCi says breezily. “Now I did some research this morning on Tumble, and it appears Matt was busy being an idiot last night. I don’t think Peter is thrilled that pictures of Matt doing shots and slumping over a bar table are making the rounds, but I can manage this.”

  Tears prick my eyes. He was that drunk? I didn’t look for him last night on social media after that last Instagram picture.

  “Were . . . there girls?” I choke out.

  CiCi lifts a perfectly tweezed eyebrow at me. “No. Because there’s only one girl he wants. And you know who that is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

  CiCi leaves me and strides over to Peter’s assistant’s desk.

  “Good morning, Katie,” CiCi says, “I’m here to see Peter.”

  I watch as Katie freezes. I think she’s terrified of CiCi.

  “Good morning, Ms. Hunter,” Katie says quickly. “Um, Peter is in an important meeting and asked not to be disturbed.”

  Oh God. This will not go over well.

  “Oh, he will be disturbed,” CiCi declares, carefully pulling off her expensive leather gloves. “Because I’m here regarding the shouting match going on right now. So, Katie, the only question is, will you disturb him to tell him I’m here, or will I walk in and do it myself?”

  Katie grimaces. I can tell she’s being put in a bad spot, but if I had to have Peter or CiCi angry with me, I’d take Peter without a second thought.

  “I’ll be right back,” Katie says, rising from her desk.

  CiCi smiles brightly at her. “Thank you.”

  Katie goes over to the closed door and raps on it. The shouting immediately ceases.

  Katie pops her head inside, and my heart pounds as she speaks.

  “Peter, Ms. Hunter is here. She says she has information relating to your current meeting.”

  Silence.

  Then Peter walks out into the waiting area.

  “CiCi?” Peter asks, walking over to her. “Sweetheart, I’m in the middle of an HR crisis, can we talk over lunch?”

  “Peter, absolutely not,” CiCi says dramatically. “I have information you need to hear about Matt. And you know how fond of him my future son-in-law is, darling. Which obviously affects me. And my emotional state. It would devastate me if my thoughts were not considered in this highly personal matter.”

  Oh, she’s playing the family card. I have to say, the woman is brilliant.

  Peter takes in her words. “Come on back.”

  CiCi turns to Katie and smiles. “Thank you, Katie.”

  Katie plasters a fake smile on her face, one so fake I almost laugh.

  “You’re welcome, Ms. Hunter.”

  Then Peter leads CiCi into his office, shutting the door behind her.

  Matt’s fate is now entirely in her hands.

  Chapter 9

  As the door closes behind CiCi, my phone beeps. I retrieve it and see it’s a text from Nate. I updated him the second we arrived at Peter’s office and told him that CiCi was on her way to help.

  Can you come down and meet me and Harrison outside the rink?

  Shit. They are going to be livid about Matt, and while I know he deserves it, I can’t say I want to hear it.

  I grab my tote and sling it over my shoulder, then I approach Katie at her desk.

  “If Matt or CiCi comes out while I’m gone, would you please tell them I’ll be right back? I’m Holly.”

  Katie nods. “Of course.”

  I exit the office, taking the elevator downstairs to the rink. Only a few players remain on the ice, finishing up their practice. Nate and Harrison are already gone, of course.

  I head around to the players-only entrance and am greeted by a security guard.

  “I’m Nate Johansson’s sister,” I say. “He asked me to come back. My name is Holly.”

  “Yeah, he said you’d be coming by,” he says. “Can I check your ID?”

  I nod. I dig out my Minnesota driver’s license and hand it to him. He glances at my picture, then up at me. Then he smiles and hands it back.

  “Go ahead,” he says.

  “Thank you.”

  I make my way down the concrete tunnel, following the signs for the player dressing room. I turn a corner and find Nate and Harrison waiting for me.

  Both are stripped of their hockey gear, wearing sweat pants and hoodies.

  “Hey,” Nate says and flicks his head to the right. “Let’s go over here.”

  They lead me to a small conference room, flipping on a bright florescent light. Harrison slides out a chair for me and I sit down. Nate shuts the door, and they both face me.

  “Holly, we need your help,” Harrison says, his green eyes flashing at me. He pauses and rakes a hand through his ginger waves. “Matt is one of the best players on our team. He’s our future. He’s wicked talented. It’s insane how good he is. But if he somehow survives today, he’ll be out of chances. He has to be perfect off the ice. And I mean perfect.”

  I furrow my brow. “I agree, but what can I do about it?”

  Nate flips a chair around and straddles it backward so he’s next to me.

  “We have a proposition for you,” Nate says. “We want you to influence Matt.”

  “What?”

  “Holly, he listens to you. That stubborn kid won’t listen to anyone, but he chooses to listen to you. I’ve noticed it since you guys were nineteen and I first brought him over to the house,” Nate explains. “Remember when he was talking about buying a second sports car, after he bought the Ferrari? You told him he should keep the Ferrari or trade it in. You said no nineteen-year-old needs two European sports cars, and it was not wise spending on his part. If anything, he needed something for Minnesota winters. Do you remember what happened?”

  I nod. “He bought a used four-wheel drive instead and held on to the Ferrari until he came to Dallas. Then he traded it in for the Lamborghini.”

  “And to this day, Matt only has one sports car and the SUV. He never would have done that without your guidance.”

  “But that’s a car. We’re talking about his personal life.”

  “Okay,” Nate says, continuing. “Whenever we’re on the road, he wants to go out. Push the limits. I’ve never seen him have in-depth conversations with other women. But whenever I brought him home, he would sit and talk to you for hours. About movies and news events, all kinds of stuff I’ve never heard him talk about with anyone else. Don’t you see? You’re the factor here, Holly. You calm him down.”

  “And that’s what he needs,” Harrison interjects. “Someone to keep him focused and calm.”

  “But . . . what do you want me to do? Babysit him?”

  Nate and Harrison exchange a look.

  “Oh my God, you’re serious,” I say, incredulous. “I won’t do that! This is ridiculous.”

  “Don’t you get it?” Nate says. “He responds to you. If you were to stay here, you could support him.”

  “Holly, I know this must sound nuts, and it is, but you’d be a sort of life coach. Someone he trusts. You can advise him. Hang out with him. Keep him busy. We know this is asking a lot, so we’d pay you. It’s a full-time job, but Nate and I think Matt is worth the investment.”

  Wait. Wait a minute.

  They want to pay me to befriend Matt?

  I stand straight up. “I’l
l help Matt because he’s my friend. I care about what happens to him. I won’t be paid. I absolutely will not take a dime to help him.”

  “Holly,” Nate says, standing up and putting a hand on my shoulder. “You can’t help Matt for free. You need money. You could have your own place. Pay bills. Buy a latte without stressing.”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head.

  “But can you help him if you’re working full-time?” Harrison points out.

  “He doesn’t need a babysitter twenty-four-seven,” I say.

  Nate and Harrison shoot each other a look.

  One that tells me they think he does.

  “You’ve only been here this past week,” Harrison says. “You haven’t seen the derailment coming like we have. If for some reason he gets another chance, we want it to be the best chance possible.”

  “And you need to be realistic,” Nate persists. “If you have a full-time job, you won’t have much time to work on your novel or help Matt. But when Matt is on the road, you’re free to write. You can help Matt save his career while working on your book. This is good for both of you.”

  “Well, I don’t care. I will figure out how to work and help Matt at the same time, but you’re not paying me for it.”

  “Holly, quit being stubborn,” Nate groans.

  “No!”

  I won’t take money no matter what they say.

  I will do it for free because I care about him.

  Because I’m falling for him, my heart whispers.

  “Will you please take the money?” Nate says, exasperated. “Matt will push your buttons and drive you up a wall. You’ll earn this, trust me.”

  Not the Matt I know, my head says. The Matt I know is not the Matt the rest of the world sees.

  “No,” I reiterate.

  “Bottom line,” Harrison says, cutting to the point. “Will you help him?”

  There’s only one answer.

  “Yes,” I say slowly. “I’ll help him.”

  My phone beeps inside my purse. My heart stops.

  “Hold on,” I say, quickly grabbing it from my bag.

  It’s a text from Matt.

  I’m out. Waiting for you outside Deveraux’s office.

  “Matt’s out,” I say, my voice thick with worry.

  “What did he say?” Harrison asks anxiously. “Is he okay?”

  Before I can reply, my phone beeps again, but this time, it’s CiCi.

  Mission accomplished. The Wild One stays put.

  Relief sweeps over me. “Oh thank God,” I whisper. I look up at Nate and Harrison. “CiCi saved him. She saved him!”

  A collective cheer between the three of us goes up, echoing off the concrete walls.

  He’s safe, I think, joy filling me. He’s going to stay in Dallas.

  “I need to go back upstairs,” I say. “Matt’s waiting for me.”

  “So your first day on the job is today,” Nate says. “Life coach him, Holly. You can do this. But it has to stay secret. We know. Kenley and Kylie will know. But that’s all who can find out.”

  I freeze. I can’t even imagine what Matt would think if he knew I was being told to keep him out of trouble. But it’s not like that, I think, my chest squeezing tight. I want to spend time with him. And I want to help him. I want him to reach his full potential with the Demons. I want him to be happy and to succeed. I don’t see this as a job.

  I see this as spending time with the man I care about.

  But I doubt Matt would see it that way if he knew Harrison and Nate were trying to pay me to keep him out of trouble.

  Well, that doesn’t matter because I’m not taking a dime. I’ll figure out a way to make it work.

  But even though I’m not being paid, Matt can never know about this.

  “Agreed,” I say, nodding. “It’s between us.”

  I clear my throat. “I’m going to go back upstairs. I’ll see you later.”

  “Thank you, Holly,” Nate says. “I knew I could count on you.”

  I nod and leave, heading back to the elevator. I anxiously press the buttons, wondering what was said in that meeting and how CiCi saved him.

  But most importantly, I wonder how Matt is feeling right now.

  The elevator chimes as it reaches the executive level, and I hurry down the corridor toward Peter’s office.

  As soon as I turn the corner, I find Matt pacing in the hallway.

  I stop the second I see him. He turns around, and when I see his face, my heart drops.

  He looks deathly pale.

  There’s no light in his eyes.

  Matt knows without a doubt he’s on thin ice.

  Very thin ice.

  He won’t get another chance.

  I can’t believe how vulnerable he looks.

  I instinctively hurry toward him, and before I can stop myself, I wrap my arms around him in a hug.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I whisper in his ear. “I promise you that.”

  Matt tightens his arms around me. “I hope so.”

  I step back from him and put my hands on his arms. “It will be.”

  Matt stares at me, his eyes searching mine, but I’m not sure what for. “I don’t know about that.”

  Silence falls between us. I’m about to ask him what he means but decide this isn’t the place to talk.

  Matt clears his throat. “Let’s go.”

  We leave the Demons’ facility in silence. Only when we are in the car do I feel I can ask Matt about what happened.

  “What did they say to you in there?” I ask.

  Matt exhales loudly. “What didn’t they say is more like it.”

  I exit the Demons’ parking lot, and Matt continues.

  “I was told how I embarrassed the organization. How I wasn’t taking my job seriously. Deveraux said he didn’t care how many goals I scored, if I was going to go out and get drunk and show up late, he was going to trade me. He is done with my behavior. The GM worked out a deal to send me to Baltimore.”

  I gasp. “Baltimore?”

  Matt turns and looks out the window. “Yeah. He’s willing to send me to the worst team in the league for cash and draft picks.”

  I hear the humiliation in his voice.

  Matt turns back toward me as I stop at a red light. “This is screwed up! Do you know how many goals I’ve scored this season? Do you? I’m on my way to a forty-goal season. Do you know how hard that is? Do you?”

  The light turns green, and Matt continues.

  “I do what they want me to do,” he snaps. “I produce on the ice. I’m one of the leading scorers in the league. My personal time is mine. If I work hard on the ice, then why do they care? Why? I’m twenty-one! So what if I like to go out and drink? I win games and that should be all that matters.”

  “Well, then you’re delusional,” I say bluntly.

  “What?”

  “You are a public image. And part of the Dallas Demons brand. You can’t go out and get stupid drunk without damaging what the organization has worked hard to build. Kids look up to you. They want to be like you. And I’m sorry, but fans do hold you accountable when they see you taking shots in a bar and slumped over a table because you’re so drunk you can’t sit upright. Especially when you miss practice the next day because of it.”

  Silence fills the car. I don’t know if I’ve pissed him off, but my gut tells me in his group of so-called friends outside of the team, nobody tells Matt the truth.

  “You . . . you saw those pictures?” he asks quietly.

  I fight the sick feeling in my stomach as I think of what CiCi told me.

  “No, but I’ve heard about them.”

  Matt rubs his hand over his face. “Shit.�
�

  “Shit is right,” I say. “Fans saw those. Peter saw those. You can’t do whatever the hell you want because you score a lot of goals, Matt. That isn’t how the real world works. If I were working as a corporate writer, they could fire me over those kinds of images. It’s called being an adult. And yes, you’re right, if you were in college nobody would care, but in the age of social media, you would have a trail that potential bosses could see. So it does matter, whether it’s fair or not.”

  I enter onto the freeway. Matt says nothing. Now I’m sure I’ve infuriated him.

  “I know you’re pissed at me, but I don’t care,” I say. “Somebody needs to tell you the truth, someone outside of the team, and your bar-hopping friends won’t.”

  “I’m not pissed at you,” Matt says.

  “You’re not?”

  “You’re the only one who cares enough to tell me the truth,” he says. “Everyone else only cares about having a good time. Or what I can bring financially. Don’t think I don’t know that people use me, because I do.”

  My stomach sinks. I can’t imagine how that must feel, to know people are only around you because of what you can give them materially.

  “Matt, you have one last chance. I know you don’t like being told what to do, so I’m not going to do that. Do it your own way, but do it. I know you can.”

  He doesn’t say anything for a moment.

  “Why do you say that? Why do you think I can do this when everyone else thinks I am a screw-up?”

  “Because there’s a different part of you, the one I’ve gotten to know these past few years whenever we’ve been alone together. That part of you is everything the Demons want and more, Matt. You only need to be brave enough to show that part of yourself to the rest of the world.”

  I feel Matt’s eyes on me as I drive, and heat fills my cheeks in response.

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  I enter Matt’s swanky Preston Hollow neighborhood, the one filled with mansions and exquisitely manicured lawns, and head in the direction of Matt’s house.