Page 172 of Puck Prince

“That’s fine. This guy in the hockey jersey with the bad haircut was just leaving.” She motions to Lance without looking at him. “Besides, I’m family.”

Kennedy stops next to Lance, arms crossed threateningly while she glares up at him.

“I’m getting the sense it’s time for me to go.” He grabs his stuff out of the chair, and Kennedy drops down into it like he might change his mind. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do.” I give him a side-hug—or the best version of one I can with my arm in a sling.

“The rest of the team wants to come up to visit, but…” He gestures vaguely towards Kennedy before tossing up his hands. “I’ll warn them what they might find.”

If Kennedy wanted to block them all at the door, I wouldn’t even mind. I know they want to support me, but it’s a lot right now.

Lance slips out, and Kennedy forgets about him the second he’s out of sight. She grabs Callie’s hand, tears rolling down her face. “Oh Callie. Your pretty nose. How did she break her nose?”

“On my face.”

“Wha–” She looks at my stitched, swollen lip and winces. “And the baby? Please tell me the baby–”

“Totally fine.” I hand her the sonogram picture.

With that, Kennedy loses it. “Thank God.”

“Listen, Kennedy. I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” she sobs, grabbing a tissue.

“Because if I hadn’t lost my shit earlier and sent her back to you, you wouldn’t have gone to that restaurant and none of this would have ever happened.”

Kennedy sniffs. “Do you really believe that? You're one of the most popular hockey players in the state of Texas, Owen. If the crazies hadn’t come after you today, they would’ve tried again on another day.”

“Whether it was today or next week, it still would’ve been my fault. I put her in the spotlight.”

“No sense in beating yourself up, Sharpe.” Coach walks in. My legs are still shaky and the pain meds are making me wobbly, but I force myself to stand up.

He looks down at Callie for a hard moment before looking at me. The man could punch me right now and I wouldn’t blame him.

Instead, he squeezes Callie’s other hand. “I hate seeing her like this. I hate that I didn’t know what was really going on with her.”

“None of us knew,” Kennedy points out. “She kept it from all of us.”

“She’s always been stubborn like that. Independent to a goddamn fault. You gave me a run for my money growing up—” He looks at Kennedy. “—but Callie… Callie made me worry. Not because I didn’t think she’d do well, but because I knew when she finally wanted something, there’d be no stopping her. And I was right. She found something she wanted, and she charged after it. All gas and no breaks.”

“She’s a great PT,” I say quietly. “One of the best I’ve had.”

“I meant you, Owen.”

I look at him. “Me?”

“She wantedyou. I knew it before you told me y'all were even a thing. I wasn’t happy at first. I never wanted either of my girls tied up with an athlete. But then I saw how good you were for each other. Fire and ice maybe, but still good. Which is why I’m not angry with you right now. In fact, I think I should thank you.”

“Sir?”

“You got her out of the restaurant and saw to it that they got her here. That means the world to me, Sharpe. Thank you.”

I don’t know how to make sense of being thanked for all of this. Part of me wishes he would hit me. At least that would make sense.

My teammates trickle in and out all day. After Kennedy almost gets in a fistfight with Dax after he kicks his feet up on the plastic side of Callie’s bed, I finally decide to go down to the cafeteria, if only to save anyone else on the team from injury.

I have no appetite, but I do grab a cup of coffee and try to pretend like I’m not wallowing in self-pity and shame.

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