Page 76 of Dirty Pucking Player

And me happy.

Her head jerks up, and she pulls on her underwear and pants. “Happy is irrelevant.”

I scoff and shift back another step. “Why would you say that?” Even to someone like me, that seems pretty fucking dismissive. “Shouldn’t happiness be the only thing that matters?”

Whether it’s for a few hours, a few weeks, or a few months…

It doesn’t have to last, but while it does, we should relish in it.

She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. “Not when it comes at a cost. You remember what I told you when you came to my office that day?”

There’s no need to clarify which day she’s talking about. That first major argument…the one that ignited my attraction to her. The one that started everything.

“I told you that winning wasn’t worth it if it was at the expense of hurting others.”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Yeah…and?”

She sighs and runs her hands through her hair again as she walks around her desk and sits. “So, what’s the expense of this?”

I don’t get where she’s going with this. “Greer…I don’t understand why you’re so upset right now.”

What am I missing? I thought we were on the same page.

She drops her face into her hands. “Because there’s an awful lot of expense here. My expense. If we get caught, I’m the one who’s going down. The worst that can happen to you is you get traded and have another notch on your belt.”

I recoil. “Is that really all that you think this is for me?”

A notch on my belt?

Before I came to Vegas, I played hard—on and off the ice—and there’s no denying it. She knows who and what I was, but how could she think that’s all she is to me?

She glances up. “Am I wrong?”

The words “of course” sit at the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say them. Something is suddenly lodged in my throat, making it impossible to swallow or speak. It’s the knowledge of what it means to utter those words. It means caring enough for someone that they can hurt you. They can shatter your entire world and flip it inside out.

Opening yourself to that kind of thing only leads to pain.

Greer shakes her head as she brushes a tear from the corner of her eye. “That’s what I thought.”

A knock cracks the tension in the room.

She glances away from me to the door. “Come in.”

The door opens, and I swallow thickly and peek down to make sure none of my clothing is still awry.

Steve sticks his head in and glances between us. His dark eyes narrow before he focuses his attention on Greer. “I wasn’t sure if you guys were still here. Coach, Marty needs to talk to you before we hit the ice.”

She nods and rises behind her desk. With our equipment manager standing right there, and with her assistant coach waiting for her, Greer has to pretend a bomb wasn’t just dropped in the room.

Every step around her desk is laced with a heaviness I haven’t seen in her before. This really is weighing down on her. It really is a career-ender if it goes badly, but I’m a selfish bastard, and I don’t know that I’m ready to give her up just because there’s a little at stake here. At the same time, is it fair to keep pushing her when I can’t see beyond tomorrow?

Steve disappears back into the hallway, and Greer moves to walk past me, but I grab her arm, keeping her in place. She offers me a tight look and glances down at my hand on her.

I swallow and lean my head down to hers. “Don’t walk away like this. We’re not done talking.”

One of her light eyebrows rises. “We’re not? Seems to me that we are. I’ve got a lot to take care of before practice and before we leave town tonight.”

Which apparently doesn’t include figuring things out between us.

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