Page 23 of At the Edge with You

I can’t punch my friend and teammate, can I?

“You never know. She may need someone to help her pass the time,” Liam teases, his eyes just as playful as his grin. “I have no problem helping out.”

“She’s your boss now. That’s not happening,” I spit, and his eyes widen.

“Wait, for real?”

“Yeah. She owns half the Thistle for the next year. It was Phillip’s way of getting her to stay here to be with Kitty.”

Dean’s jaw drops open a bit as Liam whistles. “That man and his love for that woman. He never cared who he stepped on to give her what she wanted.”

Liam isn’t wrong. I never understood Phillip’s love for his wife. His obsession. I didn’t get to see Bea with her husband, but apparently it was a lot like Kitty and Phillip’s relationship. Hazel’s relationship with Willie was decent, but he was a druggie and overdosed before I was old enough to remember them together. Then my parents’ relationship was so toxic, it was hard to believe that a man could love a woman the way Phillip loved Kitty, but I witnessed it. At times, I was in awe of it. Now, I’m being affected by it.

“She needs Fable,” I say softly, watching as Kitty shows Fable what she’s working on. I hope it’s not something new for my office. Those women and their cross-stitching are a key decorating factor in my office, and it’s really embarrassing. Especially when they make things that are highly inappropriate but speak to my soul.

My newest framed piece is a bag that obviously has dicks in it, and along the top, it reads,Eat a bag of dicks.

Bea made it, and she just loved how red I got when she gave it to me.

Crazy woman. I shake my head, exhaling. “While I hate it, and I’m pissed, I get it.”

Dean doesn’t seem to agree but nods, nonetheless. “It’ll go quick. The Ice Thistle is yours, dude. No doubt about it.”

“Yeah, I doubt she’ll give you much pushback,” Liam says, and I scoff at that.

No one knows Fable the way I do. She doesn’t back down for anyone. She can focus on something like no other and make it everything she wants. It’s her superpower. No way can I forget the welts and blisters I had from the long nights when she wouldn’t give up until we landed whatever skill we were working on. How many times I saw her eat the ice, but she’d get right back up on her skates. She never let up, never gave up, and I admired that about her. I wanted to be like her.

Before I can tell him my thoughts, Liam growls as he squeezes his stick in his hand. We follow his gaze to find Chelsea standing at center ice with Jackson Shepard, an officer who usually plays for the Blue Line Bandits but must be subbing tonight. He’s a good kid, just moved here to be with his dad, who has been battling COPD. I haven’t had much interaction with him, but it’s obvious Chelsea is interested. She grins coyly at him, her cheeks flushed, and not from the chill of the ice, as she leans on her stick in his direction. I’ve known this girl since she was a baby, and I’ve never seen her look at a guy like that. Jackson is eating it up, grinning from ear to ear, a smitten look on his face as he moves the puck around her blade playfully.

“Didn’t I tell you to kick him from the league?” Liam asks me, and I snort.

“I can’t do that, and you know it.”

Liam doesn’t like my answer. “I don’t want him near my daughter. He comes from batshit-crazy parents.”

Being in a town this small, everyone knows everyone, and he may be right, but I fucking hate when people use people’s families against them. “He’s a good kid.”

“Not good enough for my baby.”

Dean nods. “No one is good enough for our girls.” Dean slaps his hand on Liam’s back, and my heart squeezes. I don’t know what they mean because I don’t have kids.

Sometimes I wish I did.

My gaze moves to where Fable sits with the Belles. She throws her head back, laughing at something Bea said, and jealousy eats at me.

I remember when I used to make her laugh like that.

So much has changed, and now that she’s my partner again, I really don’t know how to navigate the feelings that evokes in me.

It’s as if I’m toeing the blue line, and I’m unsure if I’ll be called for offside once I let myself feel what I want. It’s fucking frustrating, but I don’t have the opportunity to dwell.

The whistle blows, and it’s time for us to fucking annihilate the Pucklic Officials.

The Beer League Belles win by four over the Pucklic Officials, and my girls are waiting for me when I come out of the locker room, fresh from a shower. Usually, I’d wait till I got upstairs, but knowing that Fable was with them, I didn’t want to stink. The girls have a table right outside the locker rooms, against the boards. Many times, a guy has knocked into just the right spot on the boards to knock over their beers, but they love it. Phillip built the spot for them about eighteen years ago, and no one else is allowed to sit there.

There is a sign with pink and gold lettering saying just that.

I’m met with hugs and kisses from everyone but Fable, and I hate how much that disappoints me. What’s a guy gotta do to get a hug from her? Not that I deserve one. I was a pure ass the other day at Phillip’s will-reading. The girls have let me knowthat countless times, but I just don’t know how to feel. I don’t want to be mad, but I feel like the rug has been pulled out from under me. It doesn’t help that my feelings about seeing her are riding me really hard.

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