“Do I look like a daddy to you?”
Wrong question, because his eyes drop to my hoodie and my cheeks flush.
“No,” he admits. “It looks like you’re a hockey fan.”
I scowl at him, though he continues to give me a cheeky grin.
“I can totally be the daddy to a very special queen,” Peyton practically purrs, and this time Collin falls on his face.
I look between the two of them as Collin tries to cover his face entirely. “Focus on football, fucker,” he mutters. “You’re a distraction.”
But Peyton’s staring at me with a wide smile. There’s no hinting now. It’s loudly out there. He’s all but said that his not-so-subtle advances are definitelynotimagined.
“Get back to practice, Petyon,” I order and reach down for Collin to pull him to his feet. He smiles but his cheeks are bright. I leave them at the ladder and move on to other players.
It isn’t until I’m peeling Hansley’s hoodie off me once I get home that I see what I truly announced while wearing it. On the sleeve is embroidered with ‘Coach Hansley.’ I wince and drop my face into my hands. Fuck my life.
CHAPTER 16
HANSLEY
Idrop onto the bed and close my eyes. The last two weeks have been… tense. As it should, it’s starting to take a toll on my marriage. Whatever’s left of it.
Jessica knows something’s wrong with me. She knows I’m hiding something. But she’s so damn sweet and trusting, she hasn’t once asked what it is. She thinks I’m stressed at work. I’d mentioned Lemon when I first started and his immediate hostility toward me, so she’s assumed that he’s making my job harder than it already is.
Hearing her say Lemon’s name feels like a knife to my gut. She’s so close and yet so far.
Our sneaking around has picked up since the second time we fucked—the time in his office. It’s like we’re somehow drawn to each other, and we end up crossing paths frequently. A lot. Far more than we have any business to.
I don’t exactly seek him out, but I am more conscious of people around me. Constantly looking at every face until I find the one that makes my heart race.
We’ve fucked two more times since his office. Once in his car late at night after the parking lot had mostly cleared out and another time in one of the empty offices in the athletic building.
It gets hotter every time. More addicting. Lemon breaks down a little more. His declarations of hate become weaker and weaker.
Except, he still doesn’t stop running after. I keep meaning to corner him and demand an explanation, but I haven’t been successful in that yet. How can I when every time we’re alone it leads to my dick in his ass? Or his throat. Or my tongue in his mouth.
The magnetic physicality between us is too intense to ignore. Believe me, I tried. Until I gave up and… well, I’m not exactly embracing it, but I’m kind of hoping it runs its course. Like, cool, I like ass. That’s nice. Now we can move on.
I hate the pang my heart gives at the thought of Lemon being a passing phase. Because it means that my marriage is over. If I’m being honest with myself, it’s already over. I’m just the only one who knows it.
Facing Jessica is… awful. Being in my house is far too difficult because I know I’m a shitty person for doing this to her. She’s going to be devastated. Crushed. If anyone deserves to be hurt, Jessica’s the very last person.
You don’t meet many people like Jessica. She’s truly good. Not someone who tries to be good for the camera in case they’re watching. Not someone who’s sometimes good but is also arrogant and greedy.
She is the epitome of good people.
And I’ve fucked up. Huge. To someone who definitely didn’t deserve it.
I rub my hands over my face and force myself to come up with a plan. Which should be simple and straightforward. I need to come clean to Jessica. I need to apologize and grovel. For her to understand that this is not a reflection of her, but my own shortcomings.
But I also need a divorce. Which means splitting assets, selling the house unless she wants it, moving for the second time in a handful of months. Facing the media.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
I’ve spent my entire career managing to be a sweetheart in the media’s eyes. While I don’t truly have to care quite as much as I once did about what’s on the internet about me, I’m also conscious of the fact that I represent RDU as their employee and hockey coach.
“Divorce is not uncommon,” I mutter to myself. “Neither is having an affair.”
