Page 64 of Hot Puck
A minute later, the horn sounds ending any hope of Detroit catching us, and we put another win in our pockets.
Everyone is jubilant, our spirits high as we leave the ice and head for the visitors’ locker room.
I’m not expecting to see Gem—she usually waits until after the team is showered and changed before making an appearance, and it doesn’t take a genius to work out something is wrong.
I’m just not sure if it has to do with the girls or something else. And I can’t ask. If she doesn’t single me out, which she doesn’t do without at least one of the girls with her, I can’t do more than tip my chin in acknowledgment. Hope she sees the concern in my eyes.
Making a beeline for Walker, she leans in to whisper in his ear and my curiosity and concern increase. She’s only in the locker room a minute more. Just long enough to call out a congrats to the team before slipping out the door.
The churning in my gut is at vomit level now. Gem looked angry, but I could see the underlying distress and it takes everything in me to follow my normal after-game routine instead of following her.
My concern has me rushing through my strip down and shower. Once I’m in my suit, I shove my stuff in my bag and leave it for the equipment team to collect and load on the bus.
I’m out of the locker room, checking both directions of the hallway trying to decide which way to go when Walker comes out behind me.
“The bus is waiting if you’re ready to head out.”
I raise a brow. He doesn’t get the hint, so I ask, “Which way? This isn’t our arena, and I didn’t take notice of how we got to the locker room when we arrived.”
“Oh, right. I forget some of you don’t know the arenas like I do. That way.” He points right. “Turn left at the end, you’ll see a couple of security guards by the exit door. Bus is right outside in the parking lot.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I start off, pulling my phone from my pocket as I go, but there aren’t any missed calls or messages.
Either from Gem or the twins.
That eases some of my worry but not much. The more I think about it, the more I don’t like Gem’s demeanor.
I’m sure to anyone else she would have appeared her normal self. But I’ve been making a study of Gem’s expressions. She fascinates me. Yes, some of that is I’m attracted to her, but who the hell wouldn’t be?
She’s hot as fuck with her non-nonsense buttoned-up businesswoman look and attitude.
Except my fascination runs deeper than her looks and work persona. She’s so different at home, with the girls, with me. And the few glimpses I’ve had of her with her fellow team owners and their partners have been enlightening too.
She comes off as brisk and unapproachable, the unbending in-charge leader of many, but there’s this soft underbelly. One she doesn’t expose to anyone but her closest circle.
And I’ve somehow found myself inside that circle.
I want to stay in it more than anything. Which is why I’ve been extra careful when we interact at work. The last thing I want to do is compromise her in any way.
Stepping out into the night, I scan the area to see if I can locate her. There’s no sign of her or anyone else except the bus driver and a couple of security guards.
Nodding at them as I pass, I board the bus and head for the back. I want to put off having someone sit next to me as long as possible. I need to message Gem and don’t need anyone looking over my shoulder when I do it.
Hey. Everything okay?
It takes almost a minute for the bubbles to appear in our text thread. And I hold my breath waiting for her words to appear.
Yes. I need to go to Atlanta in the morning. I’m making sure the girls are covered just in case I can’t get back by tomorrow night.
Atlanta? What the hell? I don’t get a chance to ask why—and really, do I have the right to ask?—when another text pops up.
He who shall not be named is causing trouble at one of my family’s companies. I need to sort it out in person.
My fists clench and my gut cramps. I thought she was free of him. Then again, she did warn me he probably wouldn’t leave her alone once their divorce was final.
Which it is. The court signed off, or stamped, or whatever it is it has to do, weeks ago. If we’d done as Gem suggested I’d get off this bus and find her, tell her I’ll be beside her for the trip to Atlanta.
But we’re not married. And I have the girls to think about. It might feel like I should support Gem like a partner would, but we only live under the same roof, share the care of my sisters. We’re not together.
