Page 20 of Off-Limits as Puck

“When have I ever been trouble?”

He lists about seventeen examples before I cut him off. Point taken.

Practice is brutal. Months of skating alone doesn’t compare to game-speed drills, and Coach seems determined to make me earn every second of ice time. By the time we’re done, I’m gasping and seriously reconsidering my life choices.

But all I can think about is her.

I shower longer than necessary, letting hot water beat against muscles that’ll be screaming tomorrow. She’s here. In Chicago. Working for the team. Close enough to touch but wrapped in professional barriers and her father’s protection.

It’s torture. It’s perfect. It’s absolutely going to end badly.

When I finally emerge, most of the guys have cleared out. I’m heading for the exit when Patricia Holbrook intercepts me.

“Hendrix. My office.”

The GM’s office hasn’t changed. It’s still intimidating, still smelling like leather and disappointment. She gestures for me to sit, then spends a solid minute just staring at me.

“Your reinstatement is conditional,” she finally says.

“I’m aware.”

“Are you? Because your reaction to Dr. Clark suggestsotherwise.”

Jesus. Does everyone have eyes in this place?

“I was surprised. Coach having a daughter is news.”

“Your surprise looked personal.”

I meet her stare steadily. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She leans back, fingers steepled. “You chased after her.” Silence falls. “Let me be crystal clear. Dr. Clark is here to help this team’s mental performance. She is a respected professional and Coach Clark’s daughter. Any behavior that compromises her ability to do her job or creates a hostile work environment will result in immediate termination of your contract.”

I don’t blink. “Understood.”

“Furthermore, you will attend all scheduled sessions with her. You will be respectful, professional, and cooperative. Any complaints from her about your behavior go straight to the league. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good.” She slides a paper across the desk. “Your session schedule. First appointment is tomorrow at ten.”

I glance at the paper. Weekly sessions, mandatory attendance, progress reports to management. Basically, I’m being forced to spend regular alone time with the woman who’s haunted my dreams for two years while pretending I don’t know how she tastes.

This should be interesting.

“One more thing,” Patricia adds as I stand to leave. “I know you think you’re untouchable because of your talent. You’re not. This is your last chance, Hendrix. Don’t waste it. She is a woman in authority who could end your career with one word to herfather.”

I leave without responding, the schedule burning in my pocket. Tomorrow at ten. Less than eighteen hours to figure out how to be in a room with Dr. Chelsea Clark without revealing that I’ve spent two years trying to forget her.

10

My phone explodes with texts from Leah as I relay the disaster. Her caps-lock response would be funny if I wasn’t currently dying of mortification and inappropriate arousal.

I pull up Reed’s file again, reading with new context. The fights make sense now—all that intensity needs outlet. The reputation for being difficult, unmanageable, explosive. The recent suspensions and anger management requirements.

He’s a walking red flag wrapped in hockey gear and terrible timing.

A knock interrupts my spiral. My father enters, and because this day isn’t complicated enough, immediately asks if I know Hendrix.

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