Page 10 of Hat Trick Heart

Here Robert gives me a sharp look. Like he’s waiting for me to argue but I just slam my mouth shut. He sighs and turns to coach.

“You’re suspended, benched, until we get a read on what was going on there and how much it’s gonna cost us.”

“How long will that be?”

Vic snorts. “You should be more worried about getting traded. We’ve already got hotheads on this team. We don’t need more. You’ve always been stabilizing for the team because you handle everything so calmly. No matter what.”

“Were you drinking last night?” Coach asks me.

“Not more than one drink. I had just gotten there when I saw Sassy… I mean the girl.”

Robert jerks his head up. “You knew her.” It’s not a question.

“Just a little. She was at a game last week. I didn’t even know her name.”

Coach’s eyebrows shoot up. “And from that you tried to kill a guy that was copping a feel? Have you lost your mind?”

I grunt but don’t say another word. I’m already in enough deep shit. I don’t need to add anymore to it.

“Get cleaned up and go home. Take a few days and get your head on straight. Hell, find this girl and go fuck her and get her out of your system! I don’t give a shit. But the next time you are back in this arena you better have your shit together.”

I nod my head and stalk out of the office, heading to my locker and throwing my clothes in there, stripping down until I’m naked and then I take a towel and head for the showers.

It’s while I’m standing around in the showers that I start to think that maybe coach is right. Maybe I just need to spend some time around Sassy. Maybe fuck her once or twice and get her out of my system.

My whole world is hockey. What I can do for it and what it can do for me.

There’s no room for a girl in there.

I wash up and stalk out, ignoring the guys when they call to me and ask what’s going on. Most of them are just getting in and they’re getting shit ready for our game.

And I’ve left my guys open to who knows what tonight without me because I let myself get distracted by a pretty face and fucked up.

I can’t do that again. Never again.

Throwing my stuff in the back seat, I sit in the driver’s seat and stare in front of me, my hands on the wheel, gripping it tight.

I don’t know what to do. I’ve honestly never done anything but hockey.

What else is there?

I do know one thing. I can never let myself get messed up in the head about a girl and what’s going on with her.

I start my car and drive aimlessly, not heading home but not sure where I’m heading. The snow is drifting down across my windows and I squint, growling when I see the large building in front of me on my right. I slip into a parking spot and stare at it.

Then I step out and stalk up to the door, opening it and slipping inside.

It’s so hushed and quiet that my hackles rise. I’m used to noise everywhere I go. In the bars and restaurants that we hang out in, fans rushing over to get autographs and talk to us. On the ice it’s quiet when you’re in your head but there’s noise all around you. The fans screaming, the music, the coach screaming plays during practice and yelling that you’re fucking shit up.

The only time I hear silence is when I’m home getting ready for bed. And that’s why I avoid my penthouse apartment except when I’m sleeping. It’s eerie.

Just like this place. I didn’t lie. I never hung out in the library.

My eyes study the old building, staring at the rows and rows of bookshelves packed with every kind of book that you could wish for.

If you wished for books.

There’s a single, long bookshelf in front of the desk and I wander over to take a look at it, realizing that they’re new releases.

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