Page 19 of Behind the Net

I hold my face neutral, not wanting to give anything away, even as my pulse picks up at the thought of my pretty assistant. “Pippa.”

Please don’t ask where she’s from, I beg silently. I’ll blurt out that we went to the same high school and then it’ll all come tumbling out.

She makes a pleased, humming noise. “Pretty name. How old is she?”

She smells blood in the water.

I’m twenty-six, which puts Pippa at twenty-four. “I don’t know.”

“Guess.”

My skin tingles. She knows. She so fucking knows. “A little younger than me.”

“Hmmm.” She smiles, nodding, watching me. “Interesting.”

I stay silent.

“Is she pretty?”

I rake a hand through my hair. “I don’t know.”

“I mean, you haveeyes, don’t you?” She asks it so innocently, like she doesn’t know the answer.

I blow out a long breath, frustrated with my mom but also with myself, because I shouldn’t have this inconvenient crush.

And I sure as shit shouldn’t have demanded she move in with me.

“Yes, okay?” I rush out. “She’s very pretty and she has a beautiful singing voice and Daisy loves her.”

My mom rolls her lips to hide a smile, but her eyes are bright.

“What?” I demand.

She bursts out laughing.

I groan. She has a way of getting things out of me.

She smiles at me as she takes a seat across the table, tilting her head. “Erin was a long time ago.” She says it quietly, and my lungs tighten. “I saw her on a new TV show. She’s the star.”

My jaw tenses so hard my teeth might crack, and I think back to seven years ago, during my rookie year. Erin Davis, the supermodel on her way to the top who shocked the fashion industry when she left modeling abruptly. Over the past few years, she’s been acting. I look her up once in a while to see if she’s still working.

My mom thinks Erin and I broke up because I couldn’t handle hockeyanda relationship, which is technically true. She doesn’t know that when Erin told me her period was a week late, I panicked. Erin was so excited, and I had terror written all over my face. We were nineteen, for Christ’s sake. It was my rookie year and I was working harder at hockey than ever. Every chance I could, I was flying home to visit my mom. My best friend growing up, Rory Miller, wasn’t interested in being friends now that we played for separate hockey teams. Everything was different and I was barely holding it together. Adding another commitment to my life was terrifying. I would have done it, though, no matter how hard it was.

She got her period a day later, but the damage was done. We both knew the relationship was over, and a week later, I saw the news about her leaving modeling. She fell off the face of the planet for almost five years.

Guilt squeezes my lungs. That’s why I don’t do relationships anymore. Because Erin wanted so much more than I was able to give her. Because it was casual for me, and I broke her fucking heart and blew up her life. She was so traumatized, she left a promising career.

I did that.

Maybe I wasn’t in love with her, but she was a nice person, and she deserved so much more than the half-assed attention I was able to give her. If we had ended up having a baby, that kid would deserve so much more than the limited time I could give them.

I’ll never hurt someone the way I hurt Erin.

When I retire from hockey, I’ll have time for that stuff—a relationship, maybe getting married, maybe having kids. If I stay fit and keep my head in the game, I can play until my mid-thirties. Until then, those other things aren’t part of the plan.

“Jamie?”

My head whips toward my mom. She’s looking at me with a curious, soft expression.

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