Page 41 of Defensive Zone

He finished his burger and a beer and was headed home within the hour. Everyone should have been in bed by now, so he could fall into his and sleep. He wasn’t in the mood for anything else.

She should have been in bed. The game had ended hours ago. The kids hadn’t made it past the first period and Ava had only stayed up to watch the end because Elise had woken up. But now it was after midnight and she should have been curled up in her bed asleep.

But she was wired, ramped up from watching that hard-fought game and seeing Max fight. She’d hated every second of that fight. She knew fighting was part of hockey, but she’d thought that fights weren’t as common, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Max drop his gloves.

Not that she’d been watching him until this season. Well, really, not until she’d moved into his house. It was hard to rationalize the man who read stories to the kids and held Elise so gently with the beast who’d been grinning for most of the fight, aside from the moment that the other guy had landed a punch to Max’s jaw.

She’d flinched then, and now at the memory.

She really should have gone up to bed.

Then she heard the sound of the garage door opening and footsteps, and she didn’t move.

“Gabi?” Max asked, walking into the living room.

“Hey,” she said, unable to think of anything else as he raked his hand through his hair, which fell in loose waves around his face. He looked exhausted as he plopped down next to her on the couch.

She immediately shifted away from him, from the heat rolling off of them that was doing things to her body that she shouldn’t be on board with.

“Rough game,” she said, trying to come up with something.

“You watched?”

“We always watch. Luckily, the kids were in bed before you decided to get into that fight,” she said.

“It’s part of the game, Gabi,” he replied.

“It’s a fight, Max.”

“Again. Part of the game,” he said, shifting on his side to face her.

“You choose to play a violent sport.”

Why was she baiting him?

“I choose to play the sport I love, and I will always protect my teammates when necessary. That is the basis of hockey. The fights are few and far between, especially for me, and I don’t have to justify them to you,” he said, his voice clipped.

“Well, the kids don’t need to see you grinning while you clobber someone,” she said, unable to let that go.

“It’s part of the game. Why are we arguing this right now? It was a shitty game, and I punched the guy who injured two of my teammates. That’s what I do. That’s what pays the bills, like your salary, for example.”

She sat up straighter. It wasn’t lost on her that he was technically her employer and she was berating him about his job. Not the best move, but she hated watching him fight. For the kids, of course. He could get injured or, on the flip side, let the kids believe that fighting was okay. The result wasn’t good either way.

“That’s a low blow, Max,” she said, trying to tamp down her ruffled feathers.

“And you started this argument out of nowhere. Want to know what I really think?”

“Not really,” she bit back.

“I think you’re nervous about me fighting, knowing I could get hurt. I think you actually care,” he said, his face void of anger.

How did he flip on a dime like that? It was like he didn’t care that it bothered her.

“I do not. Ugh. You are so damn annoying, you know that?”

“I didn’t until you got here. You just love telling me that. All the damn time. It’s getting old, Gabster,” he said.

“I’m going to bed,” she said, shifting away from him to stand up. “It’s pointless having this discussion with you.”

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