Derek had found her. And he wasn't just passing through, he was here, with enough influence to destroy everything. With enough power to ruin her life all over again.
Close enough to finish what he'd started.
The warmth from the evening with Mac felt like it had happened to someone else, in some other life where she was allowed to be happy.
Rachel pulled her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and made herself as small as possible.
She had no idea what to do about this.
17
MAC
Three weeks into dating Rachel Morrison, and Mac was completely in love.
He'd realized it two days ago, standing in the library returns section pretending to browse while actually just watching her work. She'd been helping Mrs. Henderson find a book, laughing at something the older woman said, her whole face lighting up in that way that made Mac forget how to breathe properly. The way she covered her mouth when she laughed, like she was trying to contain her joy.
That's when it hit him like a slapshot to the chest.
He was completely, irrevocably in love with her.
And he couldn't tell her. Not yet. It was too soon. They'd only been dating four weeks, twenty-eight days, if he was counting, which he absolutely was. But the feeling was there, constant and sure, settling in his chest like it had always belonged there.
Coach Davies' whistle pierced through Mac's thoughts. "Water break! Five minutes!"
Mac skated to the bench, grabbing his water bottle, acutely aware that his mind was anywhere but on hockey. Specifically, itwas on dinner tonight. Rachel was coming to his apartment. He was cooking again, well, attempting to cook. Cole had given him a detailed recipe for pasta carbonara with very specific instructions that had included the phrase "don't screw this up" at least three times.
Jamie appeared at his elbow like he always did. "You're distracted."
"I'm focused."
"You nearly skated into the boards during that last drill. Tyler had to pull you back."
Mac paused. Had he? "Okay, maybe a little distracted."
"Rachel coming over tonight?" Jamie's grin was knowing.
"How could you possibly know that?"
"Luke and his wife saw you at the grocery store buying fancy ingredients. You don't cook fancy pasta for yourself." Jamie's expression turned more serious. "But that's not why you're distracted, is it? Did you see the article about—"
Before Mac could respond, Cole skated over, his expression grim. "Mac. Jamie. We need to talk." He glanced toward Coach Davies, who nodded once. "Everyone, actually. Huddle up."
The team gathered around Cole at center ice, the easy practice atmosphere suddenly tense. Coach Davies skated over to join them, his brows knitted tight.
"Some of you might have already seen this," Cole said. "Derek Matthews gave an interview to Hockey Weekly that went live this morning. He's making some pretty serious accusations about small-market teams and—" Cole's face hardened. "And about Ellie."
Nausea hit him. Derek Matthews. He knew that name, one of the most sought-after physical therapists with a doctorate in professional hockey. He’d been in Evergreen Cove a few months ago to assess Cole’s shoulder, and apparently left in anger after Ellie humiliated him. He worked with NHL teams, high-profile players. Had a reputation for being brilliant and ruthless in equal measure.
"What kind of accusations?" Luke asked.
Cole's expression was carefully controlled, but Mac could see the anger underneath.
"He's claiming that physical therapists in small-market teams like ours are 'unqualified' and 'cutting corners' to keep players on the ice when they shouldn't be playing. That the lack of oversight in lower leagues is 'dangerous' and 'compromises player safety.'" He looked at Coach Davies, who nodded for him to continue. "He doesn't name Ellie specifically, but he references 'a certain therapist who got lucky with one high-profile recovery' and suggests it was more about the player's natural healing than actual therapeutic skill."
"That's bullshit," Jamie said immediately. "Ellie saved your career."
"I know that. You know that. But Derek Matthews has a platform and a reputation, and he's using both to push some agenda about—" Cole stopped, shaking his head. "I don't even know what his endgame is. Making himself look better? Discrediting small-market teams? Getting more business for his high-priced services?"
