Page 3 of Power Forward

Isabela is fine. Ryan is fine.

Everything is fine.

So why can’t I make myself believe that?

I take my sunglasses from the top of my head and slip them back on over my eyes. I follow Peyton to our seats, taking a side step to grab one of the champagne flutes and swallowing it in one large gulp before returning it to the tray.Hopefully, the fizz will ease some of the tension now lingering at the base of my skull.

Peyton sits down next to our defenseman Adam Kendrick and his wife, Maria, along with Zach and Carter. Elliot’s moved to stand at the front with Alex’s brother Jacob, and my newly retired teammate Ethan sits in the first row with a few of Alex’s friends and colleagues.

The ceremony is only a small, close-knit group, and when almost everyone has taken their seats, I notice there’s an empty chair next to me at the end of the row. At the same time, the hair on the back of my neck prickles with awareness.

No, no,no. This can’t be happening.

Slowly, I turn to glance over my shoulder, and my body trembles when I see him. Dressed in a three-piece navy blue suit that fits his long, lean form like a dream, he oozes sex and sophistication. It’s clear to see how he’s made several best-dressed lists and received awards for the most handsome man. They used to call him the golden boy of the NHL. Not only because he had stellar stats to match his stellar appearance but because he had the type of personality that could win over even the toughest of critics.

He used to be known as the poster boy power forward.

I was fooled once before by the charm and the expensive suits and crystal-like blue eyes, but I won’t be fooled again.

But despite my better judgment, I’m unable to tear my eyes away from him, watching him greet people as he passes. They fawn over him, so eager to say hello and shake his hand. I wouldn’t be surprised if people dropped to their knees and kissed his fancy designer loafers. He has this airabout him that causes people to gravitate to him whenever he’s in a room.

I know about that all too well.

When Peyton jumps up and stretches over me to slap Hayden’s back in a hug, my jaw clenches.

It seems the world wants to fuck me over a little bit more and flip me the double proverbial finger today.

He sits graciously in the empty seat next to me, crossing one leg over the other, and flashes one of his signature smiles my way.

“It’s nice to see you again, Wilde.”

My spine stiffens at the slight rasp of his voice, and my traitorous cock doesn’t fail to notice. It clearly hasn’t forgotten the times I forgot the world existed while he whispered sweet nothings into my ear.

Ignoring how my heart rate suddenly spikes, I tip my head to look at him. Dark sunglasses cover what I know are piercing, steel-gray eyes. I can still picture them so vividly from the number of times I’d lost myself in them. The early afternoon Californian sun highlights the sharp line of his clean-shaven jaw and chiseled cheekbones. His face has always looked like it’s been cut from marble. I used to think he was too handsome for hockey. And like a fine wine, he’s only getting better with age.

Fuck. I hate that my body still comes alive whenever he’s around. A feeling that I’ve only ever experienced with him.

And I hate it even more so because he’s the only person to ever break my heart.

My ex-teammate. My first love.

Hayden Cassidy.

Chapter Two

Hayden

If you had told me a few years ago that I would be sitting here today, watching Blaine Olsen getting all misty-eyed while reciting his vows on his wedding day, I would’ve gotten a cramp from laughing so hard.

No, seriously. He was the last person I expected to get married. As his agent, I’ve spent many years having to put out metaphorical fires. Whether it be keeping his place on the team and keeping his sponsors happy or on the internet after he thought with the brain in his pants instead of his head, but here he is. So fucking in love it’s almost sickening.

Now, don’t get me wrong, Iamhappy for him. His soon-to-be husband, Alex, has brought the best out in Blaine—and saved me from prematurely getting more gray hairs before I hit the big four-oh—and while today is filled with happiness and love, it’s a stark reminder of everything I’ve failed at.

One of them being the man sitting next to me, and it’s safe to say I failed himbig-time.

The tension has been rolling off Jackson in waves from the moment I sat down next to him. His jaw remained clenched up until the happy couple started reciting their vows, and then he must have forgotten I was there because he finally relaxed. My attention should have been on Alex and Blaine, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him as a million and one thoughts ran through my mind.

Was his blond hair as soft as it used to be? Was he still ticklish beneath his ribs? Did he still eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off before every game? Was his mouth still his biggest erogenous zone?

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