Page 31 of Pucking My Grumpy Accidental Husband
Dax
Worth it though. I liked seeing you outside work.
Me too.
Dax
What are you doing tonight?
I stare at the message, knowing I should shut this down. Should remind him about our rules and professional boundaries.
Probably overthinking everything that happened today.
Dax
Want company while you overthink?
That would defeat the purpose of overthinking.
Dax
Good point. Sweet dreams, Dr. Bennett.
Good night, Mr. Kingston.
I'm still smiling at my phone when I walk into my apartment. As I'm setting down my keys, my phone buzzes with a voicemail notification I must have missed during the drive home.
I press play, expecting a telemarketer or my landlord.
"Dr. Bennett, this is Harrison's office. We need you to come in tomorrow morning at 8 a.m. for a meeting regarding team personnel evaluation protocols. Please confirm receipt of this message."
My blood turns to ice.
Personnel evaluation protocols. That could mean anything. Routine paperwork. Budget discussions. Performance reviews.
Or it could mean someone saw something they shouldn't have, and my career is about to go up in flames.
Again.
CHAPTER 8
DAX
I'm staring at the ice during morning practice, but my brain is approximately three miles away in Harrison's office where Tessa is currently sitting in what could be either a routine meeting or the end of both our careers. My stick handling is shit, my passes are landing nowhere near their intended targets, and I'm pretty sure I just tried to body-check one of my own teammates.
"Kingston!" Coach Martinez's voice cuts through my mental spiral. "What the hell was that?"
"Sorry, Coach," I call back, skating over to retrieve the puck I just sent flying into the stands like a fucking amateur.
"You okay, man?" Jamie appears beside me, concern written all over his face. "You've been playing like your brain's been replaced with cottage cheese."
"I'm fine," I lie, because how do I explain that I'm having a nervous breakdown over a woman I'm supposed to be pretending I don't know?
"Right. And I'm the Queen of England." Jamie steals the puck from me during what should have been an easy drill. Before I can come up with a believable excuse, my phone buzzes from the bench. I skate over during the water break, my heart hammering against my ribs as I check the message.
Tessa
Routine evaluation protocols. All good. Breathe.
