“I ended it with Kane last night.”

  She sips her tea as if I said the sun is out today.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And?”

  She sets her tea down and slips off her heels, then crosses her legs in the chair. “And I’m not surprised. I actually predicted it when the announcement came at Coach Vittner’s retirement party about Kane becoming head coach. You forget how well I know you.”

  My forehead wrinkles for a moment. “Okay…”

  “You guys have been sleeping together since Ford’s wedding.”

  My head rears back. “No, we haven’t.”

  She raises her eyebrows.

  “Kane played the whole ‘I want to date you’ for months before he agreed to a casual hookup, so to say we’ve been sleeping together the whole time isn’t accurate.”

  My best friend rolls her eyes.

  After our first time sleeping together at Ford’s destination wedding, Kane woke up the next morning assuming we’d enter into a relationship. Like he’d buy me flowers and we’d do lazy Sunday mornings with croissants and coffee kind of relationship. If he knew me at all, he’d know that isn’t me.

  “He bent to your will.”

  “I guess he couldn’t resist.” I laugh, and Paisley smiles but doesn’t laugh. “Jesus, Pais, just spit it out already.”

  I love this woman as though she’s my sister, but she’s reserved and treads carefully. Hence the whole therapist profession. She tries to lead me to self-discovery, but sometimes a girl just needs someone to give it to her straight.

  “I think if your dad hadn’t changed this up, things would have progressed. Kane being named coach made for an easy reason for you to call things off.”

  “How do you figure?” I pick up my tea from the table.

  “You guys were spending more time together. You said you spent that whole afternoon binge-watching that series about the con artist on Tinder.”

  I roll my eyes. “We also banged three times that day. I was really horny.”

  “Okay, but before that, it was like one would call the other late at night, usually Kane went to you, you had sex, then you kicked him out.”

  I lay my head on the back of the couch. “Ah, the good ol’ days.”

  “Do you really feel that way?”

  Here we go again with all her psychological bullshit. “Yes, I do. You know I’m not meant for a relationship, and Kane is definitely looking for one. Like I’m ever going to be at home waiting for him with an apron on and his favorite dinner on the table.”

  She opens her arms to gesture toward herself. “I’m with Maksim and I don’t fill a 1950s housewife role.”

  “Come on. Look at Kane. I bet he wants a whole hockey team full of kids. Doesn’t he seem like that? And me as a mother. Can you imagine? I’d be raising kids with ice blocks for hearts.”

  Paisley sighs. “I think that’s a little dramatic.”

  “I’m not the ‘let me kiss your boo and tell you it’s fixed’ kind of person. I’m the ‘suck it up and get back out there’ person. Youth sports? I’d be the nightmare parent on the sidelines.”

  She laughs and I quirk an eyebrow because she knows I’m right.

  “Do you really know what Kane wants?”

  “He wants a relationship, Pais.”

  She’s quiet for a moment and I think I can almost claim victory. “So you’re planning on spending your entire life single?”

  “What’s wrong with that? I don’t need a man to be happy.”

  Paisley puts up her one hand. “Of course you don’t, but it sounds kind of lonely.”

  “That’s only because you have Maksim and you’re in love.”

  “Perhaps. Maybe I want my best friend to be as happy as I am.”

  I stare at her for a beat. “Happiness is different for everyone. What makes you happy might not make me happy.”

  She nods. “Fair enough. Why are you here if you’re good with you and Kane not being sex friends?”

  I shake my head. “Because now I have to work side by side with him, and you know he’s not going to make that easy. He’s always going to be saying sexual things to me and stuff.”

  “Then slam him with an HR write-up and sexual harassment charges,” Paisley says as though it’s so easy.

  I shake my head. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Because you like him.” Her eyebrows rise.

  “Oh cute, trying to catch me?” I bring my legs down from the couch and slip on my shoes. “I gotta get to work.”

  “So what’s your plan?” Paisley asks, unfazed by how emotionally closed off I am.

  “Simple. Ignore him. Do the bare minimum of what we need to work alongside one another.”

  “I doubt—”

  “I run the team; he coaches. We shouldn’t have to coexist that much.”

  Her head tilts. “But enough that you feel you had to call off your sexual relationship?”

  I throw my hands in the air. “Jesus, Pais, aren’t you on my side?” My hand moves to the doorknob.

  “Always, which is why it’s my responsibility to challenge you and not just accept your false beliefs because you’re scared.”

  I turn sharply to face her. “I never said I was scared.”

  She smiles warmly at me. The way she does when she knows she has to say something I don’t want to hear. “You don’t have to.”

  “UGH!” I open the door and walk out, shutting the door a little harder than necessary.

  Just because she’s all in love doesn’t mean I have to be. I’m perfectly happy going home to a clean house where I can watch what I want and eat nothing but popcorn for dinner.

  I head to my new office because at least there, things are simple. I have a to-do list, things that need to be checked off, and I can do them without any emotions or feelings or whatever this walnut-sized doubt in my stomach is. I don’t owe Kane anything. My intentions were clear from day one. I never gave him any signals that there was a future with me. So, whatever. This guilt needs to stop.

  After Dad moved all his belongings out, I arranged to have the dark wood painted white, and my designer, Kit, is hard at work making the space reflect me.

  Barbara stops me as I approach. “The painters are in there. Kit was here about an hour ago and left you this message.” She hands me a piece of paper. “Your father called and said they might be out of cell phone range for a day or two while they’re on the cruise.” Another piece of paper with a scribbled note is handed to me. “And Kane Burrows called up from downstairs, but he didn’t leave you a message. He said you know where to find him.” She hands me another piece of paper. “I wrote it down even though he said not to.”

  I smile. “Thank you, Barbara.”

  I wasn’t too keen on having an assistant, but I’m not going to get rid of Barbara. I’m not sure how many more paper messages I can handle though. Just text me like everyone else in the free world.

  “I’m going to head to my old office to get some things done.”

  She nods. “Don’t forget about Mr. Burrows. He doesn’t seem like a guy who likes to wait.”

  I inwardly roll my eyes and walk away from my dad’s… er, my new office and toward my old office, but at the last second, I take a detour down the elevator. Through the concrete hallways, I follow Kane’s authoritative voice to the ice.

  The players are doing drills and he’s yelling, blowing his whistle, and yelling more.

  I smile, spotting Imogen in one of the seats higher up in the stands, and join her. “Hey you. What are you doing?”

  She scribbles something on her notepad. “Trying to see who we should hype this season. It might be Kane, actually.” She looks at me from the corner of her eye as if worried I might object.

  Kane is now one of the youngest coaches in the league, and the fact he’s head coach means even more. I can’t overlook that.

  “Plus, he’s single, which you always like.” She elbows me.

  “But I’ve been proven wrong, first by your guy and then Cory.”

  Imogen is married to Warner Langley, our starting left wing, and just gave birth to their baby boy, Jalen.

  “They are loving the pictures of Jalen.” She smiles in a way I’ve only seen new mothers do when they think about their babies.

  “Maybe because his mom dresses him in the cutest outfits and has made him an Instagram sensation.”

  We both laugh, but the whistle blowing startles me.

  “Damn him and that whistle. Someone should take it away.” I scowl at Kane even if he’s not looking this way.

  “The boys look exhausted. Warner said the practices are rough. I think Kane’s trying to make sure they see him as coach and not teammate.”

  I lean back in my seat, observing. He is being hard on them, so I agree with Imogen—he’s clearly making a point.

  “Okay, that’s it, guys. Shower up and don’t forget to be at the airport on time for our flight to Oregon,” Kane says to them all.

  Warner looks up at Imogen and she blows him a kiss, a strangled cry leaking out of her once he’s skated off the ice. I usually try not to pry—oh, who am I kidding? I always pry.

  “What’s up?” I rub her back for a second.

  “It’s the first time Warner will be away from us… from Jalen.”

  “Oh.” I nod.

  A tear trickles down her cheek. “We knew I couldn’t go with them. Jalen needs to be set in his routine. It’s just hard. And next week they’re gone, like, three days. I’m being stupid.” She wipes away another tear.

  I wrap my arm around her, thankful the guys are filing out through the cave and to the locker room. “It’s okay. I can help. Or I mean, maybe Lena’s a better option. But I’ll be there for moral support.”

  She laughs into my chest, most likely agreeing that I’m not the one to call when you need help with a baby. “It’s okay. We’ll be fine. It’s just… you know… when you miss someone.”

  I think for a moment and get this weird feeling in my chest because at no time in my life have I missed someone like that. Other than my parents when they sent me to camps as a child, and maybe Paisley while she was in school. But I don’t tell Imogen that. I just say “uh-huh” and continue running my hand down her back.

  The sound of a throat clearing interrupts us, and we both look over at Kane.

  “For heaven’s sake, you married a hockey player. What did you expect?” Kane asks her.

  I shoot him a glare. She’s hormonal. Give the girl a break.

  Imogen draws back from me. “I don’t expect you to understand, Mr. I Sleep With Whoever And I Don’t Want Any Strings.” She stands and stomps away.

  I watch her go, ignoring the fact that Kane is staring at me.

  “She’s gone,” he says, and I tear my vision away from where she went and over to him.

  “What do you want?”

  “We need to talk.” He sits down next to me.

  I blow out a breath and roll my eyes, preparing to defend my decisions yet again.

  “Barbara is bothered by the fact that you won’t leave messages for her to write down,” I say as an attempt to detour away from where I know this conversation is going.

  “Tell her I’m sorry.” He leans forward with his arms on his knees and his hands clasped together. “Your dad always plans an annual trip for the guys. Right after the exhibition games, he’d plan a team outing before the season starts. The guys are asking.”

  Shit, I completely forgot about that. But then again, my dad was always there with them on whatever team-building event he chose, and I didn’t have to be a part of it.

  “He didn’t have anything planned already?” That seems completely unlike my father. He never even gave me a heads-up to plan something in his absence. He really did just throw everything in my lap to figure out.

  “My guess is no. Usually we’ve heard by now. Warner is especially wanting to know.”

  I hem and haw. “Can’t blame the guy. He has a newborn at home.”

  “Imogen has plenty of help. He needs to suck it up.”

  Shocked, I study Kane. I’ve never heard that bite to his tone. He and Warner started on this team at the same time, and I thought they had a closer bond than he has with a lot of the other players.

  “What? I’m not all teddy bear,” he answers my questioning glare.

  I know exactly how all not teddy bear Kane Burrows can be. The thought is a reminder of Kane in the bedroom, where nothing about him is as soft as a teddy bear. It’s what makes us so compatible. He likes to be bossy, and I don’t mind being a tad submissive if I get what I want in the end. It’s kind of nice not having to make all the decisions all the time, and the bedroom is one place where Kane likes to be the one making the demands. My body heats from my memories of our time together. The screams, the pleas, the begging, the exhaustion. The man knows his way around a woman’s body, that’s for damn sure.

  I look up at him and he smirks as though he can read my thoughts.

  “What?” I scowl.

  “Nothing. I just love seeing you blush.”

  I cover my cheeks with my hands and groan. They’re warm.

  “Back to team building,” I say, wanting to escape this and go bury my head in work in my office.

  “I’m not sure you’ll find many options now. We could try to find a company…”

  The thought of me going away on a trip and having to be around Kane twenty-four seven for days on end feels like a punishment. With my luck, we’d be on the same team, and I’d have to hold myself back from making a move the entire trip. He does this whole flirting thing that makes my body float toward his as though we’re in the water and he has me attached to a string he keeps tugging closer.

  “I think we’ll just cancel it this year. Most of the team hangs out together on a regular basis. We don’t need to do anything special.” I stand from my seat. “Anything else?”

  His gaze rakes over my body, and it takes all my concentration not to squirm under his appraisal. “I’d ask you for dinner, but I already know the answer.”

  “Very well then. Have fun in Oregon. Make sure the guys stand out in these exhibition games.”

  Before I can beg him to bang me on the disgusting arena floor, I walk away through one of the tunnels to get back to my office. I forgot the power he wielded when I wasn’t in his bed on a regular basis. The way my body begs for me to stop fighting him. I need to do one thing and that’s stay away from Kane Burrows.

  The next night, I’m sitting on my couch with a bowl of popcorn, watching the exhibition game against Oregon.

  The announcers are obsessed with talking about Kane and our team because, as they put it, my father decided to take a team who had every element to win and set a bomb to it. Kane is too young to coach, I’m not equipped to run the team, blah, blah, blah.

  By the third period, I shut off the commentary.

  But that doesn’t stop my brain from running their judgments and predictions through my head. Are they right? Maybe I can’t run a professional hockey team.

  Thankfully, my phone rings. I answer for the distraction alone.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Why aren’t you at the exhibition game?”

  “Well, hello to you too. How is the cruise or whatever trip you’re on?”

  My mom snatches the phone away. “Sweetie, we’re good. The ocean is amazing. You really should’ve come.”

  “She can’t come. She’s running the team,” my dad says in the background. “Give me back the phone, Charlotte.”

  “I can talk to my daughter. I gave birth to her, you know.”

  Oh boy, here we go.

  “Hours upon hours of waiting for her, taking her time to come out. Just because you like to think she’s a mini you doesn’t mean she’s not part of me too.”

  “I’m going to the bar,” my dad says farther in the background, and I hear the cabin door shut.

  “Already tired of one another?” I ask wryly.

  “He tries to tell everyone how to do their job. I mean, your father doesn’t know the first thing about boats this big, but he tells the captain what he thinks he’s doing wrong, and he complains about their liquor all the time.”

  I hate this part of my parents’ relationship. Being an only child, I’ve had to play referee many times over the years. I know they love one another, but I knew this day would come. I had hoped it would take longer, but I’m sure eventually my dad will find a pet project and my mom will go back to enjoying her brunches with friends and her time alone.

  “Just enjoy one another.”

  “Oh please, your father doesn’t understand foreplay.”

  Oh, sweet Jesus. Can we please not go there? She once asked me where I buy my vibrators. Something a mother should never ask her daughter.

  “Mom.” I sigh.

  “I know, I know. You don’t want to hear about us in bed, but I can’t talk to your aunt Ginny about it. According to her, Uncle Phil still goes down on her. Your father stopped that years ago.”

  “Mom!” I screech. Oh god, now I have visions of Ginny and Phil running through my head. Make it stop.

  “I don’t know how you do it. No sex ever.”

  I tilt my head, and thankfully, the game goes to commercial. “I’m sorry?”

  “You never have a boyfriend. I get that toys can help and sure, sometimes I prefer them over your dad’s quickies, a.k.a. let me get my rocks off and leave you unsatisfied, but you have to miss the real thing.”

  I pull the phone away from my ear, wishing my dad could stop this conversation from going any further. “I hate to alarm you, but just because I don’t date doesn’t mean I’m not having sex.”

  “You hire escorts?” Her voice rises about ten octaves.

  “Uh… no.”

  “Then what?”

  “Listen, I gotta watch the game. Continue having fun.”

  “Did you not hear me? There is no fun—”

  “Just try, Mom. It will be an adjustment having Dad around more, but you can do it. You and Dad never get away. There has to be something you love about him since you’ve stayed married to him this long.”

  “His money. That’s what I love about him.” She laughs, but there have been times in my life that I believed that might be the only reason she stuck around.