Page 78 of Dirty Pucking Player

“The problem is…I lose all semblance of control when I’m around him. After we walked out of the meeting with Bob, we had a quickie in my office.”

She bursts out laughing. “Again, I’m not seeing the problem here, Greer.”

I scoot back to sit against the headboard. “The problem is that anyone could’ve walked in on us and exposed what’s been happening. It was stupid and reckless and not at all how I usually live my life.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.”

“What do you mean?”

Jill releases a tiny sigh. “Maybe you need to live your life a little bit differently. I think Bash is good for you. You’re carefree for the first time in a long time.”

“I couldn’t be further from carefree, Jill.”

For someone who has known me for so damn long, she sure isn’t reading the situation very well.

“I’m coaching a team in the Stanley Cup playoffs. If I get caught sleeping with a player, my career is over.”

“Then don’t get caught.”

Wow. She really does think like Bash.

The same words he said to me ring in my ears.

“But that’s my whole point, Jill. ‘Don’t get caught’ is easier said than done.”

Sneaking around may be hot, but eventually, we’ll make a mistake. Everyone does. A slipped pet name. A shared look someone sees. A stolen touch that’s noticed.

How long can we really sustain this? And to what end?

I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut. “I mean, how long can we really sustain this sneaking around? Even if no one sees us together, are we going to stay hidden forever?”

“Just until the end of his contract, I guess.”

I bark out a sardonic laugh. “His contract is for three years and twenty-seven million dollars. Are we going to sneak around behind closed doors for three years? What about when he renews his contract? How can this possibly go anywhere? I asked him what we were doing, and he couldn’t give me an answer because it’s impossible to find one where this works. Or maybe”—I swallow thickly—“maybe he didn’t answer because he doesn’t want it to. This was never meant to be anything long term, and I think we both let this go on longer than we intended.”

That silences her. Maybe she’s finally seeing the real issue here. The issue is…this can’t go anywhere—even if we wanted it to, which I’m pretty sure he doesn’t.

We both know it. We’re both too afraid to say it out loud.

Jill sighs. “Maybe you need to decide what’s more important—your career or Bash.”

“Is that a serious question? This is Bash we’re talking about. He’s likely slept with enough women to make up an entire hockey team, and that’s probably just this year alone.” A fact that makes my stomach churn and chest ache in a way I don’t even want to examine. “And I couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as the man only a few months ago. I’m not giving up my career opportunity so I can keep sleeping with him.”

“Then it sounds like you’ve already made your choice.”

Have I?

It sure doesn’t feel like it. In fact, I’m more confused than ever. And I know I won’t be getting much sleep tonight. Which means the game tomorrow is going to be agonizing—in more ways than one.

The man who is slowly destroying my life will be out on that ice with my career and my heart in his hands.

* * *

BASH

I flip the puck in the air and catch it as I stare out the hotel room window at the city lights of Portland in front of me.

It has to have been at least an hour that I’ve been standing over here, watching cars whizz by and people stroll on the riverwalk, but I can’t shake the weight of the conversation I had with Greer before we left.

---