Offside (47 page)

Carl got up, explaining to the women how feigning surrender could be their greatest weapon. But Scott wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. He kept Akira close to his side, easing her away from the other women, over to Mason.

“Akira.” Mason took Akira’s face in his hands. “Eyes on me.”

“I fought.” Akira sobbed, pressing her face against Mason’s chest. “I didn’t stop fighting until I couldn’t anymore. If I’d—”

“Enough for today. We’ll discuss this privately.” Mason held Akira close, meeting Scott’s eyes briefly before taking her out of the room. “Thank you.”

Scott shook his head, rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. “’Thank you’? Seriously?”

“She hit a trigger, but you helped her in the long run.” Zach squeezed Scott’s shoulder, then handed him a towel. “You’re helping them all. You
know
that.”

A little hard to believe since Akira had left, looking more broken than he’d seen her in a while. Scott stripped off the pads, wiped his face with the towel, then turned to tell Carl he had to go. He still had about fifteen minutes left, but he was done. His insides felt raw. And for some reason, those words, “I’m bigger,” haunted him. He needed a fucking drink.

“Scott?”

His name, coming from Chicklet, froze him in his tracks. She called all the men by their last names. Even Callahan, who’d known her for years. This could either be very good. Or very bad.

She studied his face in silence for a few beats, then held out her hand. “We’re good. Got me? What you’re doing here matters more that how stupid you were.” She smiled as he took her hand and pulled him in for a rough hug. “Keep it up.”

Once she walked away, all Scott could do was stare after her. A stamp of approval from Chicklet was big. He glanced over at Zach, grinning. And found something worth even more.

Zach pulled him into the hall, checked to make sure no one was around, and kissed him hard. Then he whispered, “I’m glad you shared this with me. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Nothing in the world topped that.

Z
ach: It’s been almost two weeks since your last text. Call me, please. At least let me know you’re all right.

Zach: Thank you for getting that message to me through your brother. It’s good to know you’re doing well. But I don’t understand why you haven’t called…

Zach: We really need to talk.

Zach: It’s hard not to assume the worst. Why are you ignoring my messages? This will be my last one until you come back. I know there’s something you’re not telling me. Don’t hold back for my sake. You know there’s nothing I value more than the truth.

Becky looked over Zach’s texts one last time before tucking her phone in her purse and leaving her car in the Delgado Forum underground parking lot. This was her first day back at work after three weeks in Gaspe. From late August to mid-September a lot seemed to have changed. She’d noticed the construction outside the forum to add the new giant outdoor screens was done. The weather was a little chillier. Her daughter had started kindergarten that morning in her new school—late, but the transfer had taken longer than expected since her lawyer was on vacation and she hadn’t had all the papers the school had wanted.

Her daughter hadn’t gone to day care since there were always friends or family around to watch Casey while she was at work, so this first day of school was hard. For Becky, not her little girl. Casey was a little social butterfly in the making. Before Becky had managed to force herself away from the door to the classroom, Casey had struck up conversation with two little boys and a girl about the Cobra jersey she’d insisted on wearing that morning. The number 20 and the Bower name were partially hidden by Casey’s curly ponytail, but Casey wasted no time letting the other children know that the Cobra’s goalie was
her
uncle Landon.

Casey seemed happy. Which made it a little easier for Becky to leave her. But only a little. She would be working late today with the team’s five-hour practice, including medical examinations and photographs. Since Landon was on injury reserve, he wouldn’t be attending camp. So he’d offered to pick Casey up after school.

Everything was scheduled perfectly. She didn’t even have to worry about making supper because Dean had invited her and Casey over. But her life still felt like one great big mess. She’d barely made it here in time to grab a coffee before she met with Mr. Keane and the Cobra’s staff. They’d all fit in an extra meeting just to update her because she hadn’t been at the meeting earlier that week. The season was about to start and she wasn’t even close to ready.

Most of all, she wasn’t ready to see Zach again. Because all she could say to him was “I’m sorry.” And that didn’t cut it. She wouldn’t have been able to forgive him if he’d done this to her. Disappeared without calling or making it clear that “I love you” hadn’t been meaningless words spoken in the heat of the moment. Damn it, she
did
love him. She’d tried to stop, but her heart rejected her best efforts. And found a way to counter every objection her brain came up with.

He loves someone else.

Could she honestly say Scott meant nothing to her?

Casey needs stability.

She’d never met a more stable man than Zach.

It’s too soon.

She’d been alone for years. Zach hadn’t asked her to marry him. And he’d done everything in his power to fit into her life. Given her all the space she’d asked for.

What if he’s not ready to deal with a woman who has a kid?

But she’d seen how Zach was with Casey at the park. She hadn’t been sure about asking him to come along, but Casey loved the attention he gave her. And when Casey was bratty, Zach turned to Becky before saying a word to her. He respected Becky as a mother. As a woman. What more did she want?

He’s a hockey player. The game will always come first.

The game. Scott. She could think of a dozen things that would take a bigger role in Zach’s life than her and Casey. But even then, she knew she was reaching. Digging deep to convince herself this wouldn’t work out. She wanted it to work, so very badly, that it scared her. Zach could probably quiet all her fears with a few words, but that scared her even more. Because she could handle being disappointed if Zach couldn’t follow through. But Casey couldn’t. She already looked at Zach like he was some kind of hero just because he was a Cobra. Every moment he spent with her was like living out some kind of fairy tale. She’d never come right out and said it, but her little girl fantasies, whispered as she lay her head on her pillow at night, told Becky everything she needed to know.

“I’m gonna marry a hockey player, Mommy.” Casey blushed and hugged her little stuffed polar bear tight. “And I want one to be my new daddy. I can have a new daddy, right? My old daddy doesn’t like me very much. He said so.”

“He wouldn’t—he loves you, Casey.” Becky’s heart had stuttered at the conviction in her baby’s voice. She brushed her fingers lightly over Casey’s hair. “What makes you say that, poupée?”

“He said I was expensive. And messy. I tried not to be messy, Mommy.” Casey’s bottom lip quivered. “I really did.”

I could kill you for hurting my baby, you bastard.

All right, maybe homicide was a little extreme, but it was a good thing he wasn’t close enough to tempt her though as she gathered Casey in her arms. And choked out the words she had to say in a nice calm tone because it was what her daughter needed to hear.

“Grown-ups say silly things sometimes, Casey. I get upset when you smear peanut butter on the cupboards, and the fridge, and the floor.” She tickled Casey until her little girl was wiggling, and giggling, and happy again. “You know I still love you, right?”

Becky hauled her purse strap over her shoulder and grabbed a box of files from her trunk. Damn it, she was tired of trying to defend that man. Casey was a smart little girl. And Patrick wasn’t very good at hiding how he really felt. He’d lost interest in being a father years ago. He insisted on seeing Casey because he considered it his right. Not because he really wanted to. And a child like Casey would see through his half-assed efforts.

Damn you, Patrick.

Pushing the parking lot door open with her hip, Becky moved into the wide hall beyond, almost getting knocked over by the four men running down the long stretch, dragging stacked plate weights on thick ropes behind them. She fumbled with her folders, smiling gratefully at Tim when he came to her side to take the box from her.

“Thank you.” She shook her head as she watched the men slap the wall at the end of the hall, then turn to run in the other direction. “I didn’t realize camp had started already. It’s scheduled for 9 a.m.”

“It hasn’t started yet. A few of the boys wanted to warm up together. The press isn’t allowed in here. We make them park outside so the men have a place to kick the ball around, or do stuff like this.” He grinned as Luke Carter pulled ahead of the other men, shouting back taunting remarks that had them all pushing harder. Ian White was only a few steps behind him, but Shawn Pischlar and Bobby Williams, one of the team’s eldest players, struggled to keep up. “It’s good for them, giving more than we ask, getting themselves all worked up before they even hit the ice.”

Becky nodded slowly. “True. But this would be good for the fans to see. The reality show Silver signed the team up for is supposed to be all access.”

“Becky, I know it’s your job to be the go-between with the team and the media, but we’ve spoken a few times at my brother’s place, and I’d like to think I know what kind of person you are.” He paused, studying her face like a man who wasn’t sure his words would be considered “off the record.” At her nod, he smiled. “I’m their coach. I get to decide how much of this they can take. And I’m telling you they need this one space where they don’t have to worry about the cameras looming.”

As the door opened behind them, Tim shifted over, clearing the way for the team’s temporary leading goaltender, Dave Hunt. The young man didn’t even acknowledge the other players. Or her and Tim. He simply dropped his bags at the end of the hall and took out a tube of tennis balls. Before long he was bouncing four against the wall, catching and letting them loose in the same focused rhythm she’d seen Landon use with the same exercise.

“Hunt is bad with the press.” Tim watched Dave with a solemn expression on his face. “He’s a good kid. Very talented. But he doesn’t mesh with the team, and the media attention throws him off. I’d like you to keep interviews with him to the bare minimum. He may handle it better as he matures, but for now I’m more concerned with him concentrating on the game and not on explaining how he can replace a goaltender who’s already being compared to some of the greats.” He gave her an apologetic look. “I know Landon is your brother. And he’s earned his reputation. But we don’t have him right now. We have Hunt. So I’m going to do what I have to for him.”

“I understand.” Becky mentally crossed off several of the interview requests she’d received for the young man. She moved toward the door at the other side of the hall. “The media obviously has questions about him, but I can redirect them if that would help.”

“It would. And I appreciate this. I understand the press needs as much access to the players as possible, but you’ve kept them away from your brother. Which I fully support.” The heavy metal door shut behind Tim, cutting off the sound of the men ribbing one another as they raced with the weights. “I just hope you can do the same for any other player who can’t take the added pressure.”

“Just let me know who, and I’ll handle it.” Becky took the folders from Tim as they reached the elevator. “Speaking of which, are Zach and Scott here yet? Zach is evasive, but the media loves him. And Scott is always good with a mic in his face.”

“Not so much anymore.” Tim followed her into the elevator, surprising her, his expression remote. “Zach has closed down completely—”

“Closed down?” Her throat tightened and she had to open her mouth just to breathe properly.
What the hell did you do to him, Becky?
“How bad is it?”

“Nothing bad, sweetie. He’s just not giving the press anything to work with. I think he’s worried about people seeing him with Scott so often.”

Oh.
Becky nodded, speaking again before Tim could add anything to that. She didn’t want to hear it from him. “And Scott?”

“Scott is restricted to the usual player clichés during interviews. Don’t expect him to say much more than ‘We’re giving one hundred and ten percent.’ He’ll be more open when discussing his charity efforts, but he’s under the microscope. We need to focus on the positives with him. Keane has been talking to his agent a lot lately. Not really my business, but I’ll do everything I can to give his agent something to work with. Scott’s IC has done a lot to make Scott look good for the team. I wasn’t sure about the guy at first, but there’s no arguing the impact he’s had. I went from dreading dealing with Scott to looking forward to seeing what he can do for the team.”

“I can see that.” A sweet warmth spread through Becky’s chest as she thought about how different Scott was from the man she’d interviewed last year. He could still give any reporter a good story, but there wasn’t much drama to expose. No bunnies coming forward with photos that would get a few hundred dollars thrown their way. He’d cleaned up his act. Not that it should matter much to her. “So I take it they’re not here?”

“No. Zach’s giving Scott a lift and they’re both stuck in traffic.” Tim frowned when Becky gave him a stiff smile. “Becky, I know you and Zach have something. I can’t picture him keeping his relationship with Scott from you. I try not to get involved in my players’ personal lives unless it affects the game. Zach is one of our best players. I haven’t seen anything yet that justifies me butting in, but . . . it hit him hard when you left. You have to talk to him.”

“I know.” Becky took a deep breath. She’d avoided this long enough. She knew she should have called Zach. Or at least answered his texts. Today was the day she stopped finding excuses to hide from him and laid it all out so they both could deal with whatever the future held. Or didn’t. “I’ll wait until after practice. I know it won’t be just you watching him. I don’t want what happens with our relationship changing how he’s judged as a player.”