Page 91 of Dirty Pucking Player

It’s over.

Even now, after Greer has already left the office, I can’t seem to manage to regain my breath. My lungs don’t want to inflate, and the room spins slightly, with little orbs of light closing in on my vision.

It’s over.

It’s one thing to know it. It’s another to say it out loud.

It’s over.

It makes things final. Definite. We can’t go back now. Not now that we’ve voiced the truth to Bob—that neither of us is willing to budge and there’s no way around the reality of our situation.

I thought walking away from her and saying goodbye was as hard as it gets, that the pain couldn’t become more intense, but saying those two little words here, in front of Bob, and seeing Greer’s reaction might be the single worst moment of my life so far.

Considering everything I witnessed as a child and the loss of Mom, I didn’t think it was possible to feel anguish like this, but my chest feels shredded. Like someone has taken a freshly sharpened blade and gone to town on me with the intent on inflicting the most pain possible.

“You two really fucked up a good thing, Bash.” Bob shoves off the desk and walks around to his chair. “I sure hope it was worth it because it sure is fucking with your game.”

Worth it? Absolutely.

I can’t say I regret a single second I’ve spent with Greer in my arms.

Not one kiss.

Not one look.

Not one touch.

But Bob can’t think she’s the reason I’ve been a mess—even if she was part of it. That will only make him come down harder on both of us, and she doesn’t deserve that. She doesn’t deserve to lose this job because Bob thinks me and the rest of the guys can’t keep it in our pants and play for a woman like her.

He needs another reason, something he can blame my shitty play on while directing his ire away from Greer. And I have the perfect excuse.

No one could blame me for being fucked in the head knowing my father is dying, and since Bob doesn’t have any idea about the love lost between me and the old man, he doesn’t have any reason to question my feelings on his health issue.

It’s the perfect way to focus his attention on anything but that feisty blonde who walked out of here thinking her future is any abysmal black hole because of what we’ve done.

I swallow thickly and shift forward in my chair, doing my best to display all the turmoil raging inside me when I typically fight so hard to keep it contained. “My father had another stroke earlier today.”

Bob’s eyes soften momentarily, and he rests his forearms on his desk. “I’m sorry to hear that, but you know we can’t have any distractions right now. No excuses.”

“I know.”

He sighs, sympathy relaxing some of the creases in his old face. “What I need from you right now is to know if you’re really here or if you’re just a liability to the team at this point. Do you need to go home to Michigan?”

There’s no way that man is going to be the reason I miss playing in game four. Not after everything else he’s done. He can rot there alone for all I care, like he deserves. But Rachel will be with him, even though he doesn’t deserve it. She’ll hold his hand and let him believe he was some great father instead of telling him the truth during his last moments on this earth.

I grit my teeth and shake my head. “I’m fine, Bob, really. Just had a couple bad games. It happens to everyone.”

He narrows his eyes on me. “Are you sure everything is all right, Bash? Can you play for Greer after whatever happened between you two, on top of the situation with your dad?”

Even though it’s unspoken, it’s clear the next game could be the deciding factor between whether I stay, or I go. It will determine whether I’m more indispensable than Greer. It could be what decides both our fates.

I force a smile I don’t feel at all. “I’ll get them next game, sir.”

There isn’t any other option. I need to get back to the old Bash, the one who just played. The one who did his job well and without reservation. The cold, heartless Bash who used his body to send a message and scored goals as easily as he got willing women into his bed.

The one I was before I met Greer Waterson.

I can do it. I have to do it. Closing my heart off to her and what we shared is the only way I can move forward and the only way we can win.

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