Page 107 of Cross-Checked

“You know, spending this time with you guys yesterday and today makes me wonder if I should be thinking about moving up here with my girls, instead of you moving down to Nashville. We have friends and neighbors down there, but nothing else is really holding us to the place. It’s not like Wayne ever sees the girls, now that he’s moved to Florida.”

I hate her ex-husband and how he’s treated her, but that dirtbag moving to Florida and being out of their lives is the best possible end to that situation. Her moving up to Massachusetts would be even better.

“I’d like that,” I tell her, smiling. “If there’s anything I can do to help sway you in that direction, let me know.”

“I need to think about it a bit more,” Sloane says, right as AJ walks up to us. The look on her face is almost joyous.

“You’re never going to believe who that was on the phone,” she says to me.

“You going to make me guess?”

“No,” she laughs. “It was Aidan Renaud.”

“Oh yeah? Is that asshole finally coming back?”

“I thought he was your best friend?” Sloane says, head tilting as she looks up at me.

“He is. But he got injured last summer, and since he’s been out this season, I’ve heard from him exactly two times.”

“Well, I hope he’s not on your shit list, because he just got cleared to play.”

“In the finals?” I don’t know if this is good news or not. He’s a fucking talented winger and has been on my line for most of the time I’ve played in Boston, but we have a solid first line now and we’ve played together all season without him. I’m not sure what it would be like introducing him back into the rotation.

“No,” she says. “His last surgery was only a few months ago, but his doctor is confident he’ll be back for pre-season training this fall.”

“Good. I want him back for next season,” I say, and when her eyes meet mine, there’s worry in her gaze. Neither of us knows whether I’ll be playing for the Rebels next season, and I haven’t told her that I’ll be here with her regardless of whether I’m still on the team.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

McCabe

I’m not sure what I expected to feel when I saw Chet again last night during Game 1. As AJ and I have grown even closer in the last week since the semifinals, and settled into a routine that has her basically living at my place with Abby and me, I expected to feel the same rage I felt the last time I saw him. Especially now that I know that his berating AJ in the hallway that day wasn’t a one-time occurrence, but rather a pattern of behavior.

But when I saw him standing behind the bench, sporting a clipboard and a receding hairline, I had no desire to pummel him again. In fact, I wanted to thank him.

He disappointed her in every way, leaving the door wide open for me to show her exactly how she should be treated. He never deserved her, and in the end, she’s getting someone who does. Or who is working every day to deserve her.

Scoring the winning goal in Game 1 last night was also its own kind of reward, and I made sure to skate past St. Louis’s bench and make eye contact with Chet after I did. My smirk and head nod had his face and balding head turning bright red.

But tonight, as I walk into this charity gala in downtown St. Louis with my teammates, I realize how difficult it’s going to be not to let my feelings for AJ show.

I wouldn’t care if my teammates figured it out. These guys are starting to feel less like people I work with and more like family. I’m pretty used to being a lone wolf, just like Renaud, which I suspect is why the two of us were always close. But this season without him has made me realize that hockey’s actually more fun when you open yourself up a bit to your teammates and step up and act like the captain they expect you to be.

But don’t open up so much that they realize you’re dating your boss, I remind myself.

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” Hartmann asks. “How are we keeping AJ away from her ex?”

“I think the best plan is just to make sure one of us is with her at all times. Hopefully then he won’t even approach her,” I say.

Colt eyes me, and it’s like I can see the gears turning in his head as he catches the protective tone in my voice. “You know we’re not only here for her, right?”

I shove my hands into my pockets as we walk across the ornate lobby with its walls of gilded mirrors, plush velvet couches and chairs, and chandeliers of crystal dripping from the ceiling. My high school prom was held here, and I’m pretty sure not a single thing has changed. “What are you talking about?”

“You clearly think she needs backup here, which means you know more than we do. AJ doesn’t share personal information about herself withanyoneon the team. But she clearly has with you. So we’re here for you, too. And for whatever’s going on between the two of you.”

I suck in a sharp breath as I glance beyond Colt at the rest of my friends. Only Hartmann looks surprised. “Huh,” he says, as his head bobs with understanding. “I had often suspected some partiality, especially on McCabe’s side.”

“Did you just fucking quotePride and Prejudice?” Zach laughs.

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