Page 86 of If You Love Me

“Okay.”

“Have the girls gone to therapy at all?”

“They did some grief counseling, but neither of them stuck with it,” I admit. It was tough that first year. I was pulled in so many different directions, and neither of them really connected to the grief counselor.

“I have a name of a great therapist. Peggy’s been seeing her for years, and she’s wonderful with kids. You have good coverage. It might be helpful for them to have a sounding board that isn’t their friends or you.”

I sigh. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I’ll suggest it.” It’s been on my mind a lot lately—not just for them, but for me, too. I saw someone back in Niagara, but not since I moved to Toronto.

“They know you love them,” he says. “And they adore you.” He runs his hands up and down my arms.

“Thank you. This is so hard. I sound like a broken record.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Shit. I have a strategy plan I need to finish for Vander Zee, and it’s already after eight. I was supposed to have it done before I left, and then all this happened.”

“I can help you.”

“You’ve already done more than enough tonight.”

He gazes down at me and the intensity makes my knees weak. “I’m already here, and I have twenty years of on ice experience. It’s okay to take advantage of me in this situation.” He smirks and winks.

I laugh and lift a hand to block out his face. “You have to behave yourself and not look at me like that.”

His fingers wrap around mine and he presses my palm to my chest. “Take me to your office, Coach.”

“Yes, Goalie.”

He makes a sound in the back of his throat and leans down until his lips are at my ear. “You know I’m keeping track of allyourbad behavior so I can dole out your punishments one at a time when the season is finally over.”

"Things to look forward to,” I murmur pushing the door tomy office open. It’s so hard not to forget myself when we’re alone like this.

He frowns when he steps inside. “This is a storage closet, not an office.”

There’s not much room to turn around with the two of us in here, especially since Roman is so tall and broad. “It’s better than working in the living room or my bedroom.” I pat the executive chair. “Have a seat.”

“What about you?”

“I have a wobble stool under the desk.” I drag it out. It has a round bottom and I use it sometimes when I have more hours in a chair than I’d like.

"I’ll take the stool, you sit in the chair.” He motions for me to sit. His expression doesn’t leave any room for argument.

It’s almost comical how much he dwarfs the stool. He moves in close, one arm stretched across the back of my chair as I pull up the strategy plan and try not to focus on how close Roman is.

He takes control of the mouse, scrolling through the document. "This is fantastic, Lexi. You’re capitalizing on everyone’s strengths, giving rookie players time on the ice, rotating in seasoned players to make sure the lines are balanced. It’s a top tier strategy plan. All it needs is a few minor tweaks and you’re good to go.”

His praise makes my heart race. Next season I won’t have to worry about being alone with him. We could do this together all the time. He could be my partner in all ways. “You really think so?” I turn to look at him.

“You’ve got this,” he assures me.

“It’s nice to hear it from you,” I admit.

His expression softens. “You are brilliant, Lexi. A born leader on the ice. That I get to witness you soar during my final year with the Terror is an absolute honor. This is just the beginning for you.”

“I couldn’t do any of this without you,” I whisper.

“You could and you have.” His gaze heats. “And if I didn’twant to fuck you senseless all the time, I’d be sorry that I don’t get to stick around to see you really shine.”

My breath leaves me on a whoosh. We’re so close. Inches apart. If either of us leaned in we could deal with the wild, unceasing chemistry between us. But we can’t. Not again.

His eyes slide closed. “Fuck. Sorry. I’m not doing a great job of being on my best behavior.” He shifts his position, removing his arm from the back of my chair and refocusing on the screen. “What’s your plan if we’re leading in the third period?”

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