Page 23 of Levi

“Did you have any pointers on how I could make a better slap shot? Or did you just want to marvel at my skill in private?” I ask, watching as the anger slowly fills his eyes, like smoke from a fire, creeping through a room until it consumes everything completely.

“If you’re going to be a fucking smart-ass, Crosby, then this conversation is going to be much longer and require a hell of a lot more paperwork,” Coach growls. I know I need to bite my tongue or I’ll be packing my things tonight. “Surprisingly, your performance on the ice isn’t why I called you in here. It’s the fact that playing with one of my niece’s hearts wasn’t enough, and now you’ve decided to bring the younger, more vulnerable niece into the mix, and I’m not happy about it.”

My face scrunches at his words. I can’t stand the way he talks about Quinn like she’s some fragile houseplant, just one day of neglect away from death. Does he not see how incredible she is? How strong and tenacious she is? She’s fucking resilient, always handling whatever life throws at her with a smile or a left hook—whatever the day calls for.

“Who are we talking about?” I ask.

“Are you fucking with me, Crosby? You’re dating my niece after breaking the heart of my other niece, the one who thought she was going to be your wife, and you have the audacity to act like you don’t even know who I’m fucking talking about?” he growls, his voice rising more and more with each word as his face reddens.

“No, sir, I am not fucking with you. When you said ‘younger niece,’ I assumed you were talking about Quinn, but when you talk about someone being more vulnerable, it sounds like you’re calling her weak or impressionable, and I don’t think that’s fair,” I say, leaning back in my chair, probably a little disrespectful for what this meeting is, but fuck him right now. Respectfully, of course.

“Oh? And you think you know my nieces better than I do?” he snaps. “Quinn is driven, but she doesn’t always think things through and has always struggled to take things seriously.”

“After those little statements, I do think I know your nieces better than you.” I smirk, and I think he might actually hit me. “But with all due respect, Quinn is a grown woman who works her ass off, and you need to respect that. She isn’t some breakable flower that needs to be babied. She’s capable of handling so much more than you give her credit for.”

“Crosby, I don’t need you telling me what my niece is capable of handling. Quinn is a lot of things, and I will not have you trying to take advantage of her—or trying to tell me that you know her better than I do when you’ve been dating her for what? A week?”

“A year, sir,” I deadpan, choosing only to acknowledge that portion of the conversation to avoid reaching across the table and bitch-slapping my coach. That would definitely get me on a plane straight out of here, or just off the team in general, and that cannot happen. But based on the glare I’m getting right now, telling him that Quinn and I have been together for a year was not the answer he was expecting.

“You mean to tell me that you and Quinn,my niece, have been dating for a year, and I’m just now fucking hearing about it? Not to mention, Ally had to find out at the same time. Neither of you could’ve even warned her? She didn’t deserve that. I mean, isn’t there some kind of code keeping you from dating sisters? Or is this some sort of collection game, likePokémon? Gotta catch ’em all?”

“I have no intention of hurting Quinn. As for Ally, if she was hurt by how things ended, I’m sorry to hear that. As for what actually took place…until you have both sides, I wouldn’t assume to know what happened between me and her.”

“Ally told me, and it’s disgusting. It’s hard for me to have a cheater on my team, but unless you give me a reason, I can’t get rid of you. That said, I am watching you, Crosby. One wrong move, and you’re gone. Do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, sir,” I say through gritted teeth, not wanting to risk arguing about not being a cheater. I can’t risk that being my one wrong move.

“That’s all then, Crosby. Don’t fuck it all up,” he says, turning back to his computer, dismissing me.

Well, fuck me too.

CHAPTER10

QUINN

Why the fuckdo they even make clothes? All they do is stress me out. Honestly, who wants to fight over what to wear EVERY. DAY. FOR. THE. REST. OF. HER. LIFE?

Not me, that’s for damn sure. I think I’d almost prefer figuring out what’s for dinner every night. Never mind…that’s a lie. Planning outfits and meals is for the birds.

As a woman, I’ve prided myself on not overstressing about my looks. I mean, I like to dress up…sometimes. And I enjoy doing my hair and makeup…sometimes. But mostly, I just prefer to be wearing something comfortable that lets me do my job without stressing about whether I can bend down in heels to help a player with his skates, tape his ankle, or whatever else my job throws at me.

But trying to figure out what to wear tonight for opening night? It makes me feel like I don’t own a single piece of clothing—at least nothing I want to wear. I just…I want to feel like I belong, and for some reason, every outfit I’ve put on makes me feel like I’m going to have a neon sign over my head pointing out to the world that I’m out of place.

I still have a few hours before I need to head to the arena to make sure everything is set up for tonight, but I don’t think I’ll be able to relax if I don’t have everything set out ahead of time. Throwing the pile of clothes I just tried on onto my bed, I make my way out into the kitchen, where I hear Levi throwing things around.

At least that’s what it sounds like. But I’ve noticed, he just does things…aggressively. I thought someone was shooting a gun or lighting off fireworks earlier this morning, but it ended up just being Levi, violently shaking his protein drink like his life depended on it.

I round the corner to find him making a sandwich, and it hits me just how hungry I am. I know it’s just the nerves, but I hadn’t even realized that I definitely should’ve eaten by now since it’s already eleven in the morning.

“Finally done throwing things around in your closet?” Levi questions as he sits at his dining room table, a cup of root beer in hand. My stomach starts rumbling I’m so hungry.

“This coming from the man who just threw dishes around the kitchen while making a sandwich?” I smirk as I take the seat across from him.

“That’s a bit rude to say to your boyfriend, don’t you think? Especially when said boyfriend broke his back in the kitchen to make you the best sandwich in the world.”

Welp, I’m a dick, but that’s not new information.

“First off, you’re afakeboyfriend. It’s not real. Second…you made me a sandwich?” I ask excitedly as I stare at what looks like a BLT on his plate. It looks delicious, and my mouth immediately starts to water.

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