“Bea did not give him that hockey stick,” I insist. “You did. When you were six.”
She stares at me, confused and disbelieving. So that’s why she always stares at it. Because it represents Ross choosing someone else.
“You made it,” I repeat. “I promise.”
She’s still frowning when my hand goes to her arm.
“Let’s go back in,” I say gently, but she steps away, shaking her head.
“I’m going to go.” She folds her arms, retreating back into herself. “I’m tired.”
My eyes linger on her pretty face. I wish she wouldn’t. I wish she’d stay and tell me more things I was wrong about. “I’ll get you a ride.”
“No,” she rushes, that odd frown on her face. “I’ll grab a rideshare. Thanks.”
Without another word, she walks away, her dress moving around her feet, hair fluttering around her shoulders as she makes her way to the doors.
“Huh,” I hear Miller say nearby.
“Yeah.” That’s Volkov.
Ross skipped Natalie’s funeral and I thoughtJordanwas the heartless one.
I screwed up. Big time.
“Something on your mind, Coach?” Miller asks, and I yank my gaze to them.
Miller’s eyes are bright, his eyebrows lifted, and Volkov’s giving me a flat, knowing look.
“What?” I ask.
“You and Jordan?” Miller asks with a knowing smile.
At whatever my expression is, Miller smiles more.
My lips part to protest, but I can’t. I physically can’t lie about it, even when I need to. At the exit, Jordan says something to Dr. Greene.
I can’t be messing around with an employee, especially not Ross’s daughter who’s a decade younger than me. Optics aside, I should be focusing on my daughter and my team.
Even if it would be so good. Even if I would take that thick hair of hers, wrap it around my fist, and?—
“You’re staring at her again,” Volkov says.
Fuck. I close my eyes and turn, giving her my back, and Miller looks delighted. I clear my throat. “I’d appreciate it if you don’tspeculate about this further. It’s not a good look for the team, if something were to happen. Not that anything is happening.”
Miller shrugs, but he’s still smiling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes. Exactly.” I exhale a heavy breath, glancing at Volkov, who’s frowning at me. “Volkov?”
He scowls. “I have better things to do than gossip about your personal life.”
I nod, satisfied. “Thank you both.”
“You bet.” Miller looks over to the women. “You know what I love about Jordan? She pretends she can’t stand us, she pretends she hates hockey, but she always seems to expect us after games, like she knows our schedule. And on special occasions, she’d put a special drink up on the board, something unique. She made one for Hazel once.The Fire-Breathing Dragon.”
“Jordan’s good people,” Volkov adds, keeping his eyes on the room. “She’s closed off and doesn’t trust people easily.” His gaze meets mine, serious and heavy. “Everyone needs a family, though.”
My shoulders tighten. “I’m aware.”
