Page 80 of The Secret Play

“That’s where you’re wrong. An article won’t break Gemma. But you fucking up tonight, might. She needs you to be all-in on the game. We all do.”

“She needs me.”

He huffed. “Tonight isn’t about you or Gemma or Winnie right now, Coach. This is about the team. You’ve gotten us this far, and we need you to get us to the goal tonight. The Razors aren’t here to play—they’re here to dominate. So whatever’s going on, squash it.”

His words stirred up more guilt inside. He was right. The team did need me. But so did Gemma. I was torn between the job that had defined my life and the woman who had redefined my future.

I swallowed. “This isn’t fair. I need to be with her.”

His heavy hand clapped on my shoulder, and he stared me down. “What you need is to be the man she fell in love with. That man is strong. He supports the people who depend on him. He coaches the Atlanta Fire. Show her who you are.”

“You’re actually advising against me comforting her when she’s upset?”

“I’m advising you to trust that my sister can handle herself. Upset or not. If you think you need to run to her every time she’s unhappy, you’re not giving her enough credit.”

Chapter 32

Gemma

The smell of buttered popcorn filled the kitchen, a scent so familiar it almost calmed me. Almost. The microwave timer ticked down, and I listened to the unpredictable arrhythmia of popping kernels, trying to focus on the mundane sound instead of the nerves twisting in my stomach.

The game was starting soon, and even though I wasn’t at the arena, I felt like I was waiting for my own face-off. Casey was leading the team into the season's biggest game, and I was here, stuck in my head about everything else—the story, the fallout, the fans. He was up against the meanest team in the league. They weren’t beyond pulling some bullshit to win this. I hated the thought of my brother facing off with those guys, but if the Fire won tonight, they’d be legends. More importantly, a win would make it harder to fire Casey.

Will the article be enough to save his job? Only time will tell.

I glanced toward the living room, where Winnie sat cross-legged on the floor, crayons spread out like a rainbow explosion. Her little brow furrowed in concentration as she colored a picture of what looked like a hockey player, complete with a stick and a jersey that vaguely resembled the Fire’s colors.

Megan perched on the couch, pouring wine into two glasses. She caught my eye and grinned. “You’re going to need this more than I do tonight,” she said, holding up a glass.

I forced a smile, wiping my hands on a towel as the microwave beeped. “You might be right about that.”

“What’s done is done,” she teased lightly. “But don’t worry, we’ll get through this game together. And hey, if it’s terrible, we have wine. If it’s amazing, we’ll still have wine. Win-win.”

Her voice was light, but I knew she sensed my tension. Megan had been my rock through any mess, always babysitting at a moment’s notice, or making me laugh. Tonight was no different, and I was grateful for her.

“You ready to cheer for your hockey hunk?”

“I’m here to watch the game,” I said, delivering popcorn bowls all around.

“Sure you are,” she said, smirking as she handed me a glass.

The knock at the door was so sudden that it startled both of us. I nearly dropped my wine, which would have been a crime. It was delicious. I froze, the popcorn bowl in one hand and my wine glass in the other.

“Expecting someone?”

“No,” I said, frowning. “Casey’s at the arena. He wouldn’t…”

Winnie looked up from her drawing, her face lighting up. “Maybe it’s Uncle Nico!”

I shook my head, dismissing the idea as I set the popcorn down. “No, baby. He’s got a game to play.”

But when I opened the door, there he was—my brother, standing on the porch with his usual easy grin.

“Nico?” I asked, baffled. “What are you doing here?”

He held up his phone like it was obvious. “You should really check your texts more often.”

“My phone’s dead.”

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