Page 291 of Breaking the Pucking Rules
She didn’t hold back on the hotel room—it’s massive and luxurious. I should feel guilty over accepting it, but as the warmth seeps into my muscles, I’m having a hard job feeling anything but relief.
I haven’t had a bath since that day with Kodie, I’ve stuck with showers in the hope of banishing the memories. Instead, I’ve glared at my tub with disdain and self-loathing.
My pulse picks up when I think back to our brief exchanges earlier. The way he begged me to stay. How he told me that he was sorry before explaining how scared he was.
Just being in a room with him and Sutton like we were some kind of family was a big enough headfuck. But hearing him say all those things?
Fuck, it messed with my head.
I want him. Nothing has changed for me there. But despite it being my fault, he hurt me when he walked away from me.
He isn’t the only one that’s scared.
I’ve learned since that night at the ball that when it comes to Kodie Rivers, it’s impossible not to fall for him.
Hell, I’m pretty sure I’ve been falling for him from afar since I was a teenager. Convincing myself that I could have a one-night thing with him and then move on was the biggest lie I’ve ever told myself.
He’s too…well, Kodie Rivers for that.
He commands attention, adoration, and awe.
I never stood a chance.
I just get comfortable, losing myself in thoughts of what could be, when the music cuts and my cell starts ringing.
Anxiety twists me up inside because I already know who it is.
I didn’t reach out to him after our game. In my defense, I was a little busy with Sutton.
I don’t doubt that he knows all about it, seeing as Kodie was whisked away by Kathleen the second they touched down.
Nerves wrack through me as I prepare to answer his questions before I swipe the screen with a bubbly finger and put it on speaker.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, Care Bear. Is everything okay?”
I let out a sigh that I’m sure says a thousand words.
“Yeah. It’s been a tough day, though.”
His own sigh lets me know he understands.
“Seeing one of your players hurt is one of the hardest things to go through as a coach. How is she?”
“She’s good. Mild concussion. I think her ego is bruised more than anything,” I explain.
He chuckles. “Typical hockey player.”
I can’t help but smile.
He’s right—and not only is she a hockey player, but she’s her father’s daughter.
“You were no different, you know that?”
“Dad,” I warn.
“I’m serious. The first time you were injured…my heart stopped dead for a few seconds, I swear. It was awful.”
