"You really think that ends well for you?" He stepped closer, not touching but close enough I could smell his cologne. The same one he wore the night I caught him.
"I think I'm done playing by your rules."
"I think you're going to regret that." He loomed over me now, using every inch of his height. His voice dropped to something quiet and vicious. "You're still just the girl they forgot when I left. Don't make me remind them why. And just so you know, my father is a monster. You think he doesn't have skeletons in his closet? You think this little coaching job is going to save his career? If you really think he's a good asset to Crestwood, then you'll do what I tell you. Because, if not, I'll take him down. And he's already down, so it won't be hard to ruin him in a way there's no coming back from."
Then he turned and walked out, pulling the door shut behind him with careful, controlled precision.
The silence he left behind felt heavier than his presence.
I stood frozen in the middle of my room, heart hammering, skin still buzzing with Calder's touch and now contaminated with Nate's proximity. My hands shook as I locked the door.
What the hell had I just done?
I stared at the cheap wood like it might swing open again, like he might come back with something worse.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
I wasn't afraid—not really. I wasfurious. Furious at his audacity, his entitlement, the way he walked in here like he still owned pieces of me. Like I owed him my silence, my complicity, my body as a backdrop for his success story.
But underneath the rage, fear slithered cold through my chest. Because Nate was dangerous in the way quiet men in power always are. He didn't need to threaten loudly. He just needed to whisper the right words to the right people, and my whole world could collapse.
I slid down the door until I hit the floor, still wearing Calder's scent under my sweatshirt, still feeling the ghost of his hands on my hips.
I didn't regret Calder.
I regretted not knowing how much more complicated it was going to get.
Chapter 20
Calder
Idrove with the windows down, cold air slicing through the cab like penance. Didn't matter. My skin still burned where she'd touched me, still felt the phantom press of her body against mine, the locker room metal cold against my palms as I'd held myself back from taking more than I already had.
The cigarette between my fingers had gone out twice. I kept forgetting to smoke it.
It won't happen again.
I'd told myself that last time. And the time before. Every time I saw her on the ice, every time she looked at me with those sharp eyes that saw through every lie I tried to tell myself.
But it did happen. Again. And Christ, it was worse this time—no,better. That was the problem. Better in every way that mattered and none of the ways that should.
I'd promised myself I'd get her out of my system. One more time and I'd be done, able to look at her without wanting to pull her into every dark corner I could find. Instead, I was more haunted than before. Her voice in my ear. The way she'd whispered my name like it meant something, likeImeant something.
The guilt slammed into me in waves, each one heavier than the last.
She's my player. The one I'm supposed to be coaching, protecting, pushing toward something greater than a washed-up enforcer's bedroom.
She's Nate's ex. My son's. The kid I failed in every way that counted, and now I'd taken the one thing—the oneperson—he'd probably still think of as his.
And she's too young. Too good. Too worth more than a man who'd spent the last decade drinking himself stupid and burning every bridge he'd ever built.
The speedometer crept past seventy. I eased off the gas.
You're dangerous,I told myself.You're poison.
But even as I thought it, even as I flicked the dead cigarette out the window and watched it spark against the asphalt, I knew the truth.
I still wanted her.
