The three-day road trip feels like ten days. I usually love road trips. I love being around the guys twenty-four/seven. No wives, no girlfriends, just my boys and hockey. But on this trip I can’t stop thinking about Mac and Brie. I’ve called Brie every day to check in. At first the conversations were short. I asked how it was going, she told me it was okay and we hung up. But the conversations started to get longer. After I found out how things were going with Mac we’d start talking about other things, like how our days were.

Last night we talked for almost half an hour, which stunned me when I realized it because I don’t think I’ve ever talked to anyone on the phone for that long in my life. The conversation wasn’t particularly deep. She told me about how the fund-raiser didn’t make as much money as they’d hoped, but she was working on some new fund-raising ideas. Then she asked me about why a guy took a swing at me during the game, which made me smile because it meant she’d watched it.

I want to call her tonight after the game, but with the time difference it’s too late. She and Mac are going to court tomorrow to see if a judge will let Mac live at Daphne’s House and it’s all I can think about so I decide to head down to the lobby bar for a beer. I text Jordan to see if he’ll join me and he texts back that he’s heading down.

I often grab a drink and unwind in the bar after a game but this trip, I haven’t enjoyed it like I usually do. My brain is preoccupied worrying about Mac’s case and for some reason that I can’t figure out, it starts thinking of Brie when I’m getting hit on by the bunnies at the bar. Both of the previous nights I left early to call Brie.

Jordan saunters into the bar in sweatpants, a hoodie and a baseball cap. I raise an eyebrow. “You don’t even try to look decent anymore.”

He shrugs. “Married. I’ve got no one to impress here anymore.”

I laugh. He sits down on the stool beside me and flags the waiter, ordering a pale ale. He yawns and turns to me. “So what have you been up to besides pissing off the coach and blowing off TV shows?”

I groan. “I didn’t blow them off. I just haven’t had a chance to call them yet.”

Jordan gives me a look that screams Bullshit. He knows me too well. Thankfully the coach doesn’t and when he confronted me, steam nearly pouring out his ears, for not getting in touch with the producer of Off the Ice, he believed that excuse. But I don’t know what excuse I’ll give him next because the fact is, I am not going to call them. Not ever.

“You’re going to get yourself benched again, you know that right?” Jordan asks.

I lift my Guinness to my lips and shrug. “Yeah, well if it means I don’t have to yack about my life in front of a TV camera, it’s worth it. Now can we change the subject?”

“Okay. Tell me about this charity thing you got Rosie all pumped about,” Jordan replies. “She’s been bouncing off the walls about it. She says she’s going to teach a GED course or something.”

I’m tell him about Daphne’s House and how Brie started the charity from her inheritance and how I’ve been volunteering there and I even mention Mac, and how I’m hoping she gets into the program.

“You know, you’re not the same guy I knew in Seattle,” he says, smiling. “I don’t know if I should be impressed or scared. It feels like I’m witnessing some modern-day miracle or omen or something.”

“Why? Because I volunteer with kids? Surprise! I did that in Seattle too,” I confess and sip my beer. “I just didn’t make a big deal about it.”

“No, not that. I know you’re a good guy and also a private guy, so I’m not surprised you do charity work and didn’t tell me.” His blue eyes glance around the room before landing back on me. “You’re a kid in the middle of a candy shop right now and it’s like you haven’t even noticed.”

I scan the room. Bunnies are always the most plentiful in Canadian cities so I’m not shocked that the Vancouver hotel bar is flooded with them. A very cute blonde smiles when our eyes meet. I raise my beer at her as a hello but cut off any further interaction by turning back to Jordan. “I’ve probably fucked half this room already,” I reply since I recognize a few of the pretty faces. “I’m just taking a breather right now. I’m sure one day soon I’ll feel like conquering the other half.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “And here I was thinking maybe our little Alex was growing up.”

“Nah. Like I’ve said before, you Garrisons took all the good women.”

“Despite your best efforts,” Jordan adds with an evil grin. I groan. He knows I hate it when he brings up the fact that I tried to sleep with Jessie. I didn’t know she was his long-lost love. “Speaking of our good women, can you keep a secret?”

“I’m a human vault,” I promise him and think about the fact Devin told me at the beginning of our trip that Callie is, in fact, pregnant but the doctor suggested they wait another month before they tell anyone. He was beaming when he told me.

Jordan glances around probably to make sure none of our teammates were lingering nearby. There was a group of rookies over at a booth in the corner most with bunnies on their laps, and two other guys playing pool but no one within earshot. He gets a look really similar to his brother’s earlier and he whispers, “Jessie is pregnant!”

I start to laugh, which I instantly realize is confusing by the way his eyebrows pinch and his eyes narrow. It’s just the fact that I’m the only one to know that both Jessie and Callie are pregnant is hysterical. “You should be sharing this with Devin not with me.”

“I can’t tell Dev because he’ll end up telling Callie who will tell Rose.” Jordan sips his beer. “We’re not supposed to tell anyone for another couple of weeks, but I’m dying here.”

I reach in and hug him. “Congrats, buddy. It’s going to be hysterical seeing you try to parent. You’re a disaster.”

“Thanks, asshole,” he says, but he’s smiling because he sees the humor in my expression.

“I hope it’s a girl and she grows up to be hot like her mom because that’ll make it even more hysterical,” I add and chuckle. “You’re going to have to buy a baseball bat to keep the boys away.”

“Oh God, don’t even joke about that,” he warns. He finishes his beer and glances at the time on his phone. “I’m going to head up to my room and call Jessie.”

I stand up when he does and give him another hug. “Congrats, man. Seriously.”

“Please, you probably think it’s a death sentence,” he laughs.

“Maybe for me, but not for you,” I reply honestly.

“It’s terrifying,” he admits quietly.

I slap his shoulder. “You’ve always stumbled fearlessly into any challenge. You’ve got this.”

He grins. “Looks like someone wants to be your next challenge.”

His eyes are looking at something over my shoulder and I turn and see the girl I raised my glass to earlier walking toward me. She’s cute. Pretty, even. I’m sure she knows exactly who I am and exactly what will happen if she comes over here. But for some reason, I’m not in the mood tonight. I haven’t been in the mood the entire trip. So I gulp back the rest of my beer and follow Jordan out into the lobby before she gets close enough to even say hello.

He looks at me with a confused stare. “Again? You didn’t score in Toronto or Montreal either. And you always say Montreal has the best bunnies.”

“I’m focusing on my game,” I explain, which is true. “Coach hasn’t scratched me once this trip and I intend to keep it that way.”

“Yeah but we’re going home in the morning,” he reminds me. “And I’m sure he doesn’t expect you to be a monk. None of us were ever monks.”

“I’m not being a monk. I just…I’m not in the mood.”

We step into the elevator and he looks more than confused now, he looks stupefied. “You lead the league in sleepovers. You’re always in the mood.”

It’s a line I used to proudly boast about. Jordan might lead the league in short-handed goals, Avery in regular goals, Devin in points, Seb in penalties, Luc in hits and me in bedding women. Only this year, statistically I’d be way off. I’ve seen women come out of other players’ rooms every road trip and I’m yet to bed a bunny. It’s not a conscious decision, I just haven’t wanted to. It should be as shocking to me as it is to Jordan, but I don’t feel shocked. I don’t feel much of anything because it doesn’t feel like I’m giving up much.

“I’ll make up the points in the back end of the season,” I tell him jokingly. “A threesome or two after Christmas break and I’ll be leading the league again.”

“Yeah, there’s the Alex I know and love.” He laughs as the elevator opens on our floor and we say good night, since our rooms are in opposite directions. His comment leaves a cold feeling swirling in my gut and I can’t figure out if it’s because he’s relieved he thinks I haven’t changed or because, deep down, I think I have.

The next day we land around noon and, since we don’t have practice or a game, I head straight to Daphne’s House. Selena opens the door when I buzz and greets me with a big smile. “Hey! Are you scheduled to volunteer today?”

I shake my head. “No. But I have the tickets for the kids for the upcoming home game. And I was hoping to see Mac. Is she living here?” Selena’s smile slides right off her face and my heart slides right into my boots. “She’s not here?”

“Not living here, no,” Selena replies and I heave out a heavy sigh. “Brie can explain. She’s in her office.”

I storm back there before Selena can say another word. They had an appointment with the judge first thing this morning. I was worried when Brie didn’t text me, but I convinced myself it was because she knew I was flying home. And instead of texting her when I landed I decided to just come here. Now I’m worried and angry and most of all frustrated.

I shouldn’t care this much. This is why I don’t get involved. The door is open and I don’t bother knocking. I just march right in. She’s at her desk, typing away on her laptop. She looks startled when I barge in, her big brown eyes getting bigger. She stands up and she is incredible. That thought forces itself into my head even though it’s completely inappropriate. She’s in a formfitting skirt similar to the one she was wearing in the Starbucks the first time I saw her. It might even be the same one, I don’t remember. Her sweater is also snug. I hadn’t realized until right this second that her breasts were as enticing as her ass. The revelation disturbs me, and that adds to the negative feelings swirling inside me.

“You’re not going to let her live here?”

The startled look on her face morphs into annoyance. “I’m good, thanks. How was your trip? Nice to see you made it home safe.”

She’s making me look like an ass and even though that observation would be accurate right about now, it only serves to anger me more. “Selena said Mac isn’t living here. You said Laurie was petitioning the court this morning to get her placed here.”

“She was and she did,” Brie replies tersely. “Turns out with Mackenzie’s history they aren’t inclined to give her a shot at independent living right now. She skipped school a lot her last year in foster care and ran away more than once.”

“So they’ll just take away her chance at something that might work?” I accuse and she marches around the desk.

“Don’t growl at me,” she warns angrily. “I’m doing what I can.”

“Yeah, everyone said that to me too,” I reply before I even realize it. My eyes fly to hers. She doesn’t look shocked.

“How long were you on the street as a kid?” she asks calmly, leaning her perfect butt against her desk.

“So what happened to her?” I ask trying to sound less angry because Brie has already done more than I could imagine and I need to remember that. “Is she in juvie? Did they put her in another home? Has she already run away?”

“Nice avoidance skills. I bet you’re better at avoiding questions than you are at slap shots,” she says tartly.

“I have a fucking great slap shot,” I growl. Again. “Now can you tell me what the fuck happened to her?”

“When you answer my question,” Brie replies. “How long were you homeless as a kid?”

“That’s none of your business.” My voice is vibrating with anger.

“Technically Mackenzie is none of your business,” Brie replies, just when I think she can’t be more annoying. “You’re not a relative, guardian or even her foster parent.”

I turn toward the door, but I don’t leave. I take a breath, but it’s hard, like the air is thick. “I ran away from my last foster home when I was fifteen. I slept in alleys and ate out of Dumpsters and then lucked out and went through a few years of bouncing around on couches of hockey teammates and even lived in a friend’s garage for a while. Happy now?”

“Of course not,” she replies in a voice barely above a whisper. I feel her hand on my shoulder. It’s soft and she gives me a gentle squeeze and it’s soothing and I hate it. I don’t want pity, even if sometimes it feels like I need it. I spin around and face her. She’s standing so close to me she has to take a step back or else our chests would bump.

“Now that you’ve invaded my privacy will you fucking tell me what I want to know?” I hiss.

She looks a little hurt by that, but I don’t care. She forced me to share something I hate sharing. My mood is on her.

“She’s at school,” Brie explains and takes a step away from me, crossing her arms. “Today is her first day. The judge is allowing me to continue to foster her for now. That’s a win by the way because she should be in juvie with her history. But they’re overcrowded, and Laurie convinced them she’d follow the rules with me. So far she has. She’s not a bad kid. A little rough—and hard—around the edges but good.”

“How long are you going to keep her?” I can’t imagine this is anything less than an inconvenience for Brie. She’s young, rich and has a boyfriend who I know doesn’t want a kid that isn’t his.

She sighs. “I don’t know, Alex. It’ll depend on the court and on Mackenzie. But I promise you I will do whatever is best for her.”

I want to argue that but I have no reason to. She’s been good to this kid. I run a hand through my hair before shoving it back in the pocket of my coat. “How’s your boyfriend handling all this?”

Her face changes, her lips flattening into a hard line, her eyes darting away from me to the window. “Now look who is getting personal?”

“Tit for tat,” I snark.

“You know, you and I have a lot in common,” she says.

I laugh out loud, which seems to offend her judging by the pissed-off look on her face.

“Why? Because you work with kids nobody wants, and I was one? Yeah, we might as well be twins.”

“For someone who has seen both sides of life, you’re the most presumptuous, condescending asshole I’ve ever met.” Her stare is so fiery I bet I could toast marshmallows off it if I had any.

“Look, don’t get me wrong,” I say. “What you do is amazing. And I can tell you’re a good person, but being around kids who have never been loved and being the kid who was never loved are two very different things.” I try not to let the ache developing in my chest seep out into my voice. I do not want this woman’s sympathy. I don’t want anyone’s and never have.

“Where did you grow up?” she asks. “Quebec?”

“Nope. I got the information I needed. I’m not telling you another thing.” I turn and storm out of her office. I call over my shoulder. “Tell Mac I say hi.”

I’m halfway to the front door when I remember I haven’t given anyone the tickets. I promised the kids they could come see the game tomorrow night. I turn back to find Selena and give them to her. And I collide straight into Brie.

She starts to fall backward and instinctively I circle an arm around her waist. I yank her into me, her body pressing against mine and I pull her upright. It takes a second for her feet to get under her again and in that second I find myself overdosing on the feel of her warm, soft body pressed into me. Suddenly I’m well aware of how long it’s been since I’ve been this close to a woman. It’s been way too long.

She grabs my shoulders and makes this tiny little gasping sound, which I feel in my groin. Jesus, it’s sexy as fuck. Our eyes lock. Her mouth is parted just enough that I can see the tip of her pink tongue. I want to know how it tastes. Because of that urge, instead of letting her go, I tighten my arm around her waist. She doesn’t pull away. Her grip on my biceps gets tighter too.

When our eyes connect again, it’s electric. There’s a charge between us. All the animosity and anger that heated the air between us a second ago has turned into something else. Passion? Lust? Maybe both.

I dip my head, she turns hers, our lips are inches from each other. The sound of the door directly behind me buzzing because someone is coming in, feels louder than a fire alarm. It’s also a wake-up call reminding me that not only do I not get along with this woman but she has a boyfriend. I pull back so quickly she stumbles again but manages to grab the staircase banister.

It’s Reg coming home from his job at Dunkin’ Donuts, still in his uniform. “Hey, Alex! Are we still all going to the game tomorrow?”

I pull the tickets from my pocket and hand them to him. “Yeah. Give these to Brie.”

“But she’s right—”

“See you tomorrow night!”