Page 106 of Power Play

“I’m fine.” I run my hand through my hair and pull up the team group chat, reading through the messages from the last twelve hours. “Hudson is sober. Fucker went for a run this morning.”

“Ohyeah. He was giving everyone water! When I tried to dump it on his head, he tossed me over his shoulder and walked me to a very nice chair.”

I don’t like the thought of my teammate putting his hands on her. I know it’s because he was helping take care of her, but still.

It stirs up something inside me that I don’t like, and I grind my teeth together to get rid of the feeling.

“What room are we in?” I ask.

“Um.” Piper rolls over and looks at the hotel phone. “636.”

I find Hudson’s name in my cell and hit call, waiting for him to pick up.

“What’s up, man?” he answers after two rings.

“Room 636. Now,” I grit out before tossing the phone on the sheets. The reality of the situation starts to unfold in front of me, and I stand. “Fuck.Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean what’s wrong? I can’t bemarried. I don’t date. I don’t do relationships, and I sure as fuck don’t getmarried.Fuck. I must’ve been plastered out of my mind. And without a prenup in place? No PR statement planned? My agent is going to fucking kill me.” I pace to the window then back across the room. “God only knows how much of an idiot I looked like last night and what kind of videos are on social media. I don’t have time for immature shit like this. There are five months left before the playoffs and now I’ll havea marriagelooming over my head? Unbelievable. Did you know what was going on before we allegedly exchanged vows?” I scrub my hand over my mouth, wincing at the reminder of metal on my skin. “Is this some sort of prank? All part of your plan and why you came to me to fuck you?”

“Are you saying Iplannedthis?”

“I don’t know what I’m saying, Piper, only that I’m trying to figure out how we went from making out in a club to being husband and fucking wife. I didn’t have a say in it, so someone must’ve.”

Piper’s face falls. Her bottom lip trembles, and the second the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve said the wrong thing. I’ve been too mean, too aggressive, too much like her piece of shit ex, and I instantly want to take back the last two minutes.

I want to crawl into a hole and hang my head because she doesn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of my attitude, andshe really doesn’t deserve to be blamed for something I know is a surprise to her too.

Fuck.

“If you think I came to you for sex lessons because my long term goal was to marry you, you’re the most conceited man in the world. I came to you because I trusted you. Because we’re friends, and now, I’m not so sure about that.”

“Piper.”

“I’m going to take a shower.” She throws off the sheets and swings her legs to the end of the bed. She stands and shuffles to the bathroom, turning her back to me, and that’s when I realize she’s wearing my jersey.

The extra one I pack in my carry-on in case my checked suitcase gets left on a tarmac somewhere.

I stare at the letters stitched across her back. My number below her shoulder blades. The way it hits her thighs and shows off the rest of her legs.

She looks perfect.

It’s dangerous for her to walk around in that.

It might make me think this whole marriage thing is a good fucking idea.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t?—”

“I was starting to think I might be ready to try dating again, but after hearing what you just said, I’d rather stay single. I know my self-worth, and it’s not being called manipulative.”

When she shuts the bathroom door with the softestclickinstead of slamming it in my face, I want to grab a pillow and scream. I want to get on my knees and apologize for what I said.

The only two things I’ve been sure about the last few years are hockey and her.

And now, since I’m a miserable asshole, I’ve fucked up one of them.

A knock throws me off-balance and I charge for the hotel room door, yanking it open.

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