Page 167 of Unravel Me

I tug at my hair. “I don’t remember.”

Courtney steps forward, one hand on her belly, the other on my arm. “We can be a family again, Adam.”

I jerk away from her touch. “I have a family.”

“Arealfamily. You’ve been playing house with that girl for long enough, don’t you think?”

“Don’t fucking talk about her,” I growl lowly, looming over Courtney.

“This is our son.Ours, Adam. The one you always wanted. The one we dreamed about having together.”

My stomach roils, and I place a hand over it. “A baby won’t change anything between us. And I have the son I always dreamed of having.”

“This rich, martyr stepdaddy act is getting old, Adam.” She spins to Rosie, a huff of laughter escaping her nose. “Wow, talk about getting lucky, huh? You must be thrilled that yourwoe is mesweet little single mama act worked. You think you’re set for life now, huh?”

“Enough,” I roar, blood thundering in my ears, my heart hammering. “Don’t fucking speak to her. Don’t evenlookat her. You’re so goddamn beneath her, she can’t even fucking see you.”

Rosie rushes to my side, tucking her shaking hand in mine, placing her other hand over my heaving chest. “This conversation is over,” she tells Courtney. “You shouldn’t have come here tonight.”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you bitch.”

“No,” Cara growls, stepping between Rosie and Courtney. “Don’tyoudare talk toherlike that. In fact, life would be immensely better for everyone if you just.Shut.Up.” She swings her hip out, pinning her arms over her chest. “You should be ashamed of yourself for ruining such a special night for five minutes of fame. Like the woman told you, this conversation is over. Now get. The fuck.Out.”

“You’re a bitch,” Courtney spits out.

“Proud of it, babe.” Cara wiggles her fingers at her as she storms down the street. “Enjoy your trip back to the fiery depths of hell.”

As luck would have it, our team bus pulls up out front at this moment, and the doors open as the rest of the team filters outside.

Coach raises his brows at me. “Everything good here?”

No.

“All good, Coach,” Carter replies, his grip on my shoulder shaky.

“All right. Everyone on the bus. Wheels up in forty.”

“Rosie, I swear—”

She silences my frantic words with her mouth on mine, her trembling fingers pressing into my jaw as her soft lips move with purpose. When she pulls back, it’s the quiver in her chin that breaks me, the way her gaze wobbles as she stares up at me. “We’ll…we’ll figure this out, Adam. Okay?”

I climb on the bus and watch my pink-haired world slowly fade from view, and I can’t help the thoughts that claw their way in, setting up shop inside my brain.

Will we figure this out?

CHAPTER38

TOO PRETTY TO FIGHT

ADAM

I’m an emotional hockey player.

I think it comes with the territory of being a goalie. Losses are hard, and I’ve always found it hard not to lay blame on my shoulders. Even worse, when something’s going on in my personal life—like, say, finding my long-term girlfriend riding her side piece in our bed—it distracts me. My thoughts are elsewhere, and sometimes that leads to careless mistakes.

Not tonight, though. Because tonight I’m not broken.

I’m fucking furious.

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