Page 28 of The Sin Bin

"Because you punch people for a living?" Kane asked, surprisingly perceptive.

"That's part of it."

"But not all of it." It wasn't a question.

Jax stared at his taped knuckles, the perpetual marks of his profession. "She's got this whole life figured out. Her career, her boundaries... she's got her shit together. And me? Hockey's all I've ever had. When this is done?" He shrugged, the gesture encompassing all his unspoken fears about the future. "What the hell do I offer someone like that?"

Kane was quiet for a moment, considering. "You know, Allison asked me that once—what I'd do after hockey. I gave her some bullshit answer about broadcasting or coaching. She saw right through it."

"What'd she say?"

"She said, 'That's what you'd do. I asked who you'd be.'" Kane smiled at the memory. "Fucked me up for weeks. But she was right. We get so caught up in the identity of 'hockey player' that we forget it's just a job, not who we are."

"And what brilliant insight did you have?" Jax asked, only half joking.

"That I'm still figuring it out. But having someone who sees you—the real you, not just the player—that's worth whatever scary shit comes with it." Kane stood, clapping Jax on the shoulder. "I've seen how you look at her, man. And I've seen how you've been playing differently since she showed up. Maybe she sees something in you that you don't."

Jax absorbed his captain's words, surprised by the depth of insight from the usually guarded Kane. "When'd you get so philosophical?"

"Allison's got me reading self-help books," Kane admitted with a sheepish grin. "Don't tell the guys or I'll never hear the end of it."

"Your secret's safe," Jax promised with a laugh. "Thanks, K."

"Anytime. That's what family's for." Kane grabbed his bag. "Now, you want a ride or what? Your place is on my way."

An hour later, Jax unlocked the door to his apartment, exhaustion settling deep into his bones. The place was dark except for the small lamp he always left on for Penalty, who came trotting out to greet him, his splinted leg barely slowing him down.

"Hey, troublemaker," Jax murmured, scooping up the kitten who immediately began purring against his chest. "Miss me?"

He settled onto his couch, Penalty curled in his lap, and pulled out his phone. A new text from Lauren had arrived during his drive home:Just got home. Thinking about everything tonight. You're a good teammate, Jax. Hope you know that.

Something warm unfurled in his chest, a counterpoint to the weight of the day's events. Without overthinking it, he typed:I'm glad you were there tonight.

Her response came quickly:Me too. Even with the loss.

Jax hesitated, then added:Team's having a charity casino night next Saturday. Mandatory for players. Would you want to come? As my guest?

The typing indicator appeared, disappeared, then reappeared, each fluctuation sending a wave of anxiety through him. Finally:I'd like that. Text me the details?

Relief flooded through him, followed by a surprising surge of anticipation.Will do. Goodnight, Lauren.

Goodnight, Jax.

Penalty batted at his phone, demanding attention. Jax set it aside, scratching behind the kitten's ears. "Yeah, I like her too, buddy," he murmured. "A lot."

As if on cue, his phone rang—Lauren's name lighting up the screen. Surprised, he answered immediately.

"Hey, everything okay?"

"Yes, sorry, I just..." her voice sounded slightly breathless. "I realized I still have your team jacket from when you let me borrow it at the shelter the other day. I noticed it in my car when I got home."

"Oh," Jax said, oddly touched that she'd call about something so small. "Don't worry about it. You can just bring it next time we see each other."

"Actually, I was thinking... I'm still awake, and it's not that late. I could drop it by your place if you want? I remember Oliver mentioned you live in his building."

Jax's heart rate kicked up a notch. "Yeah, that'd be fine. I'm just hanging out with Penalty. You remember the address?"

"I think so. The high-rise on Harbor Street?"

---