Page 11 of Playoff

He’s taller than I remember, and his blond hair is a few shades darker than when we were in high school, but everything else is the same. Just…bigger. Stronger.Hotter.

Fuck.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“Hey, guys.” Canyon has his shirt back on and goes over to shake hands with Blake and the two guys with him. One is Bodi something or other, and the second guy has played with the Phantoms multiple times this season.

“Good to see you, Warren. Bodi.” Does my voice sound funny? I really hope not. I have to stay professional. No matter how hard it is.

“Are massages part of the routine?” Bodi asks, arching his brows.

Before I can respond, Canyon gives him a look of annoyance. “If something hurts or needs attention, yes. But not just because it feels good. Rowan’s doing this job alone now that Gene is out on medical leave, so we don’t want to tire her out. We need her in top form when we’re on the ice tomorrow night.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, I was joking.” Bodi looks a little chagrined, and I’m glad Canyon was here because I probably would have said something snarky.

“You guys need anything?” I ask politely. “I’ve been here all day, and I was getting ready to go back to the hotel.”

“We just came by to say hello,” Warren says. “There was a team meeting and then we wanted to check out the arena. Never been here before.”

I want to say something about how this isn’t a vacation, but I bite back the snippy response. Seeing Blake has me feeling all kinds of ways, so the sooner I get out of here the better.

“I’ll head back with you, Canyon,” I tell him.

“The bus already left but I just called an Uber. Let’s go.”

“Can we head back with you?” Bodi asks. “We didn’t realize we’d missed the bus.”

“Uber isn’t big enough for all of us,” Canyon says. “But let me see if I can change it.”

Great.

Now I’m going to be stuck in a confined space with Blake and his friends.

They’re chattering away with Canyon, asking him a million questions about the playoffs and mentioning people I don’t know. It’s probably better. I grab the front seat when the minivan arrives, so I don’t have to sit directly with the guys, and I stare out the window, trying to ignore the fact that Blake freakin’ Rourke is just a few feet away from me.

We were together for more than three years, all through sophomore, junior, and senior years of high school. We went to a private prep school with an excellent hockey program. I got to go because it was local and I got a scholarship for my good grades; he was there for hockey. And from the first moment we met, we’d been smitten. There’s no other way to describe it.

It had been so easy to fall in love with him.

Until he shattered my heart, right along with my hopes and dreams for the future.

I have different dreams now, and most of them are coming true, but seeing him brings me back to a time when it felt like I’d lost everything.

Dammit.

I’m better than this.

The moment the van stops in front of our hotel, I’m out of the vehicle and striding through the lobby toward the elevator banks.

“Rowan, wait up.”

Fuck. Me.

“I’ve got some things to do,” I say without looking at him.

“You want to get a drink or something? Catch up?” He pauses next to me as the elevator doors open.

“I really don’t have time,” I say, stepping inside.

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