Page 111 of Play Dirty

“Do you think we could talk, Marty?” Brenna asks quietly.

“About what?” I manage not to scowl.

“Us.”

“Us?” I want to laugh, though it isn’t at all humorous. “There’s no such thing, Brenna. In case you forgot, you left me.”

“I know but…” She flips the grilled cheese sandwiches in the pan and then turns to me, the look on her face contrite. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what’s best for the kids.”

I arch a brow. “Nowyou’re worried about what’s best for them?”

“Don’t do that. I’m trying to be serious.”

“So am I. You weren’t thinking about the kids when you hooked up with Phil,” I say as patiently as I can. “You weren’t thinking about them when you moved them to Tennessee. And you sure as hell weren’t thinking about them when you asked for a TRO against Stevie.”

She looks away for a moment and then fixes her gaze on me. “But I was! Marty, you have to know how problematic she is…how difficult it would be for her to be around the kids with the negativity that follows her.”

“Stevie has a bigger—and better—heart than ninety-nine percent of the people I know,” I reply. “Including you.”

Her cheeks turn red, and she whirls back to the frying pan, her back stiff.

“We could try again,” she says. “For the kids.”

This time, I can’t help myself and burst out laughing.

That’s rich, coming from her.

She fucks another guy who happens to be my teammate, takes my kids away from me, ruins my relationship with a beautiful, loving woman, and now she wants me back?

Hell will freeze over first.

“What’s the matter?” I ask sarcastically. “Phil not thrilled with the results of the custody hearing?”

She doesn’t respond, telling me all I need to know, but that’s her problem.

“You made your bed, Bren. I don’t know what to tell you other than I don’t love you anymore. I don’t even like you most of the time, so trying again is completely out of the question.” I stand up and put Emma in her booster seat. “I’m going to go check on Martin.”

She really has nerve.

* * *

We playthe team from Alaska the following night and there’s a buzz of activity when I get to the arena.

“Did you hear the news?” Ivan asks as I approach the locker room.

“What news?”

“Harper has gone into labor.”

“Oh.” I smile. “Gabe must be excited.”

“I guess they went to the hospital early this morning, so we’re waiting for updates.”

“So Chandler’s between the pipes tonight.” I nod.

“Yeah.” He looks at me carefully. “You okay? You look…weird.”

“No.” I shrug. “But nothing I can do about it. Funny story, though—guess who asked if we could try again?”

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