Page 24 of Charming Crosschecks

“Guess she’s gonna take it easy on us now?”

“No,” Gerry replied, bristling at the idea of them supporting the relationship simply to get off easy on the concentrated routines that she had each of them focusing on. He wasn’t using Molly and sure didn’t want that to get back to her – that would obliterate any fragile relationship that was beginning between them. “That’s not how this works, Bouchard.”

“And how does it work…Loverboy?”

“Lay off, you two,” Lafreniere came to his defense. “Why don’t you two goobers find something else to do – or better yet, instead of exercising your mouths, apply yourself on the ice.”

“What our physical therapist assigns each of us – is between you and her. We are just talking. It’s not to give you an easier day or for her to go easy on you. It’s because she’s nice.”

“Beetlejuice is nice?”

“Shhh!” Gerry hissed nervously. “I never called her that – you did.”

“It was funny,” Boucher chuckled.

“Tais toi,”Batiste interrupted in French, coming to his defense and telling the other guys to shut up. “You don’t need to start problems for Thierry…”

“Exactly.”

“Just talking, huh?” Coeur grinned – and Gerry turned away to finish getting ready to head toward the rink.

“Yeah, we’re just talking. She’s nice, okay? Maybe she’ll go easy on you now or…” and his voice trailed off in horror as Giroux slapped him hard on the side, knowing deep in his gut that something was wrong. The silence around him was deafening, almost like the room had collectively sucked in their breath – waiting.

“Coach Mike is on the ice, waiting for you,” Molly said, her voice clipped and cool enough to send a chill down his spine.

Gerry’s stomach churned. The fragile connection they’d started to build felt as if it might shatter under the weight of this moment. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Molly was already turning away, leaving him to wonder if he’d just lost her before he ever really had her.

He’d seen the flash of hurt in her eyes. It was fleeting, a mere moment, but it struck him like a physical blow. That look, the one that seemed to sayI thought I knew you,made his stomach churn with guilt and panic. He wanted to rush after her, to call her name, to demand how long she’d been standing there, silently watching, absorbing words that weren’t meant for her ears.

Had she misunderstood what was being said? Did she think he had been a part of the careless, cutting remarks? The thought was unbearable. She had to know the truth.

Shehadto.

Gerry ran a hand through his hair, frustration and self-loathing bubbling just under the surface. He hadn’t made it a secret how things had started between them—tentative, shaky, built on the unsteady foundation of mutual skepticism. But they’d been starting over, hadn’t they? He’d worked hard to show her the real him, the one beneath the bravado and insecurities. They’d spent hours peelingback layers, exposing raw truths, and sharing pieces of themselves.

Just last night, he’d told her about his deepest fears—the doubts that kept him awake at night, the nagging insecurities about his place on the team, his future, and whether he was good enough. She’d listened, her quiet strength and unwavering support anchoring him in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

In return, she had opened up about her dreams—her career aspirations, her family, the life she wanted to build. They’d laughed, shared stories, and forged a bond that had felt almost unbreakable.

Almost.

Now, though, that bond felt fragile, like glass fractured from a sudden blow. Was it shattered completely?

His chest tightened as his angry gaze snapped to Couer and Boucher. They sat frozen, guilt and shock painted clearly on their faces. They looked like a pair of kids caught raiding the cookie jar, but the gravity of the situation made Gerry’s temper flare hotter.

“She heard you,” he ground out, his voice low but brimming with fury.

Neither man answered, but the way their gazes darted to the floor said enough. They knew. They knew, and it was eating them alive.

“She heard you,” Gerry repeated, louder this time. “She heard you mouthing off, calling her names, and implying thatI’musing her to go easy on the team. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Thierry, brother, I’m sorry,” Coeur said quietly, his voice laden with regret.

“Dude, I never meant for…” Boucher started, but Gerry cut him off, his voice sharp and unrelenting.

“You’ve never had it rough,” Gerry snapped, the words searing the air like a whip. His anger spilled over, a volatile mixture of frustration and hurt. “You two have the looks, the brains, the body, and the contracts that we all want—yet you’re a pair of ungrateful nitwits who don’t care about anyone or anything but yourselves.”

Both men sat there in stunned silence, with no defense to offer, and no excuses that could undo the damage.

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