I’d say she broke up with me, but we weren’t together to begin with—technically—so that’s not what this is. It just feels like that. We’ve been avoiding each other. It’s amazing how easy it’s been to not run into her even though we spend a huge amount of time in the same building. I reacted badly—to everything—six days ago at the arena. I know that now that the anger has subsided. I just hate being ignored. My parents used this tactic on us growing up. If we had an opinion they didn’t like, they didn’t talk it out with us, they ignored us. If we did something they didn’t like, they didn’t ground us, but they gave us the silent treatment. That set me off, and then the way she ripped into me—accurate or not—about my injury and then my parents was too much. It was like she walked up and tore a Band-Aid off the gaping hole inside of me where I store all the bullshit I don’t want to deal with. I wasn’t ready for that, but I needed it. I know that now, as my second appointment with my sports psychologist comes to a close.

I have to admit to myself, it’s not at all as painful as I thought it would be. The guy is relaxed and friendly. He doesn’t make me lie on the couch—in fact, there isn’t even a couch in his office. We sit in armchairs across from each other, and we’ve started both sessions just shooting the shit about hockey—how the team is doing, who played who the night before. Somehow, without me even realizing it, we talk about me—my feelings on everything from hockey to life and how everything has changed since the injury. It’s the second session in five days and I’m already feeling a little more grounded than I have in two years. I’m sharing shit with him I’ve never said out loud to anyone. And it’s not weird or humiliating. It actually just feels good to get it off my chest.

“Listen,” he says as he glances at the clock. “I watched some of the footage from a game a couple weeks ago. I saw you kind of panic when that neck guard came off, but you didn’t let that fear take you under like it seems to have in the past. When you came back out you had a great game. What did you do differently?”

I know exactly what grounded me. What gave me confidence. I just can’t say it here. He apparently sees that on my face, because he smiles encouragingly. “I don’t tell your coaches a word of what we say in here. Not one.”

“Levi told me to give up everything else and make hockey my only focus,” I tell him, rubbing my palms nervously on my jeans.

He looks skeptical. “And that worked?”

“No. I did the opposite,” I say vaguely.

He waits patiently for more.

“There’s a woman who means a lot to me. But our relationship is complicated, and we’ve been pushing each other away. I saw her while I was waiting for my neck guard to be fixed and…I didn’t push her away. She makes me feel like the person I was before this bullshit accident took over my brain. And then I’m able to be that person again.”

He nods. Just nods, like I don’t sound at all codependent or insane. “It’s not the woman. It’s your instincts. You give in to them when she’s around. You don’t second-guess yourself or get caught up in the past. Don’t rely on her for that. You need to start doing that when she’s not there to remind you.”

Huh. The little timer on his desk dings, signifying the end of our session. We stand and he shakes my hand. “I have you scheduled for next Tuesday.”

“Yeah. Okay.” I nod. “Thanks.”

I feel really good as I leave the office. I think about what’s happening with Dixie right now. My urge is to track her down and make her talk to me again, but my instincts are telling me to give her a little space and give myself some too, since the shrink told me not to rely on her. I’ll go on the road trip and maybe talk to her when I get back. She’ll still be here. And I’ll still be falling in love with her. And hopefully she’s falling in love with me.

So I go home, pack and am waiting outside the hotel when Levi picks me up half an hour later for the drive to the airport. He’s in an upbeat mood for him, I can tell. Even though it would look like his goldfish died to the outside world.

“So when are you going to bring your car here?” he asks me.

My car is still in Sacramento. “I haven’t thought about it.”

“What about a place of your own?”

I shrug. “They haven’t said I’m staying.”

He looks at me like I just spoke a foreign language he doesn’t understand. “Come on, Elijah, that’s just a formality. You’re staying for the rest of the season. Eddie’s contract is up this summer, and I’m sure we’ll let him go and keep you.”

“Your brotherly love is blinding you, Levi,” I tell him and smile. “I appreciate the support, but seriously, I’ve had one good game. Actually only one good period. I’m sure they haven’t decided if they’ll send me back down when Noah gets healthy or keep me here.”

He waves a hand like he’s dismissing my words. “You’re staying. I know it. Get an apartment already.”

“Remember, even if they keep me the rest of this year, my entry-level contract expires in June. I’ll start looking when I know if they’re going to give me a new one,” I say, mostly just to get off the topic. “So I got a call from someone named Trish.”

“Yeah. Trish works with Dixie in PR,” Levi explains as he merges onto the freeway. “What’d she want?”

“She said that the winner of some contest the Thunder was doing picked me.” I explain about the message that was on my phone when I woke up from my nap. “She said there would be a PR person coming on the road trip and they’d explain more, but that tonight I’m having dinner with this winner. Apparently his nine-year-old son is a goalie. A reporter will be there too. Have you done this type of thing before?”

“Yeah, all the time,” he replies easily, taking the exit for the airport. “It can be tedious, but you’re way more outgoing than me. You’ll be fine. Especially if you score Dixie.”

“What?” He wants me to score Dixie? What the hell…

“If you score her as the PR person on the trip, you’re golden. She’s the best at making things comfortable,” Levi replies easily. “I once had to give a rink tour to this girl who had my face tattooed on her chest and kept calling me Big Daddy. Dixie made sure to stand between us, because the girl was a little handsy, and kept the conversation light.”

Would it be Dixie on this road trip? That itself is both a blessing and a curse. I have no idea what to expect. Will she talk to me? Is she still upset? Should I talk to her? It was easy to think I could beat the temptation of wanting to talk to her because I would be miles away, but now she’s going to be on the same plane and in the same hotel. And we’re going to have to have dinner together. Shit. I just hope I don’t make this worse somehow.

When we get to the airport and clear security we make our way through the concourse to the private terminal where the team plane is located. A lot of guys hate the travel part of this job, but I definitely love it. A private plane sure beats a bus, which is how the Storm travels.

My eyes are darting around the terminal, but I don’t see her. I do see a reporter I recognize from the post-game scrums. He sees us too and smiles and waves, walking over. Fan-fucking-tastic. I’ll have to keep my guard up if he’s around. Levi gives him an easy smile. “Hey, Tom. You hitching a ride?”

Tom smiles. “Yeah. Covering the game and doing a piece on the fan contest too.”

“Eli is the player they picked,” Levi tells him, and I want to kick him.

Tom looks over at me. “That’s flattering, considering you’re the newest addition and haven’t played hardly a full game.”

He means that as a genuine compliment, I think, but it comes across backhanded. Still, I smile and nod. “Yeah. I guess this guy is sick of Thor over here and wanted a younger, handsomer version. Anyway, I’m looking forward to it.”

“This contest is a brilliant way of connecting with fans outside of SF,” Tom adds.

“Dixie came up with the idea,” Levi replies. Man, when did he become Captain Chats-a-Lot? What happened to the king of one-word responses? I miss him.

Tom’s smile widens. “A brilliant idea from a brilliant woman.”

I study his face and the way it lights up over Dixie, and I swear to God it’s much more than professional admiration. He likes her. Asshole. I see Duncan standing by the door that leads out to the plane and I wave at him. “I’ve got to talk to Darby.”

I march over there like a man on a mission. The mission is not to punch the reporter. Duncan smiles at me. “What’s up, Kid Casco?”

“Don’t nickname me that,” I mutter.

“Did Thor have a brother?”

“Yeah. That asshole Loki,” I reply and instantly regret it as I realize he’s talking about Levi’s nickname.

“Loki it is!” Duncan proclaims.

“Oh hell no,” I bark, annoyed, and it just makes his smile get bigger. Damn it.

He turns to Jude, who is approaching with two Starbucks cups in his hands. “Eli’s nickname is Loki.”

“Really? I was thinking Hammer.” Jude sips from one of the cups. “Because Thor needs his hammer to win, and we need our goalie to win.”

Duncan is quiet for a moment and then he says in awe, “Wow. That was deep. And I like it. Hammer it is, kid!”

“Okay, fine, whatever. Just stop with the ‘kid’ shit.” I follow Jude as he starts toward the door. “Are you freaked about leaving Zoey right now after the scare?”

“A little bit,” Jude admits and his eyes cloud over. “But the doctor swears she’s fine, and she hasn’t had any more fake contractions.” Levi and Tom are following a few feet back, but I can hear them chatting. The sound of the guy’s voice annoys the crap out of me.

I enter the plane just behind Jude and follow him down the aisle. I don’t see her, and I’m about to spiral into disappointment when she appears from the galley kitchen at the back. She looks past Jude and right at me. She doesn’t smile, but I can see warmth in her eyes even though she’s trying to mask it. Jude walks up to her and hands her one of the coffee cups. “They’ve launched the pumpkin spice lattes, so I got you one.”

“Forget everything I’ve ever said. You’re a great brother.” She gulps down a big sip.

Jude drops down in a seat and I move to pass him, which means I have to pass her. The aisle is narrow, like on any plane, and I make a point of taking up more room than necessary so even when she turns sideways to let me by, our bodies connect, brushing torsos. Pink automatically starts creeping into her cheeks, and I bite back a smile of satisfaction at that. “I’ll save you a seat.”

“I’m sitting up front,” she replies softly but with tension in her tone.

She turns and marches up the aisle away from me, aptly twisting and slipping past player after player as they board.

I shove my bag into the overhead bin and sit in an aisle seat so I can look ahead easily and see her. She’s in the second row from the front, window seat. Tom drops down into the seat beside her. My fists clench again.

The entire flight was a nightmare. They chatted almost the whole time. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she was smiling. A lot. When she finally pulled out her laptop and he pulled out a book and stopped yakking her ear off, I tried to sleep but couldn’t, probably because instead of counting sheep I was counting ways to make Tom look like an idiot in front of Dixie. I was honestly worried she’d fall for his bumbling charm. After all, he’s safe. There’s no HR policy about dating reporters.

Now I’m in my hotel room unpacking and more frustrated than ever. I wanted to know what room she was in but I didn’t get a chance to ask because Tom sat beside her on the bus to the hotel and rode with her in the elevator. They both got off on the seventh floor. My room is on the eighth. The idea that he has a room on her floor makes me crazy. Well, crazier than I already was.

There’s a knock at my door, and I stalk over and swing it open. Levi is standing there and the smile on his face fades when he sees the look on mine.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I mutter. “Come in.”

He does, the door closing behind him, and he drops down on my bed, crossing his ankles and lacing his fingers behind his head. I walk over to the nightstand and check my phone to see if Dixie might have texted me and I missed it. She didn’t.

“So…I wanted to ask how things went with the sports psychiatrist, but judging by your mood I probably shouldn’t,” he tells me.

“What?” I look up from my phone. “No. It’s fine. The sessions went well.”

“Oh. Good.” Levi’s jaw is tight and his eyebrows are pinched together, which proves he’s unconvinced. “So you think it helped?”

“I guess we’ll find out next time I play,” I mutter. I decide to text Dixie and ask her what her room number is.

“Coach told me you’re starting tomorrow night,” Levi reveals. I press Send on the text and look over at him, dropping my phone back onto the tabletop.

“Really? For sure?”

Levi nods. “I’m not supposed to mention it, but I wanted to tell you.”

“Thanks.” I give him a quick smile.

“So if it’s not the shrink that has you looking like you want to punch something, what is it?” Levi pulls himself to a sitting position, his back against the headboard.

I walk over to my suitcase as I debate what to say to him. I need to talk to someone. Dixie’s sisters know about us, but I don’t have anyone to bounce things off of, and I really feel like I need it right now. I sit down on the chair next to the luggage rack and run a hand through my hair, then rub the back of my neck. The shrink’s words float back into my head. Instincts. Trust them. My instincts are telling me I can share this secret with Levi.

“Nothing major. Just the fact that I’m falling in love with Dixie.”

It takes a minute for him to react. It’s like someone presses pause on his face—it’s frozen in a curious, patient expression like he’s still waiting for me to tell him something. Then his reaction is like an explosion. He sits up straighter, leans forward, mouth falling open and eyes widening almost comically.

“I’m sorry, what? Dixie? Braddock?”

I nod.

“The blond girl with the smart mouth and smarter brain who is—”

“Fucking beautiful and sexy and brilliant?” I finish his sentence with my own adjectives. “And the fellow employee of the San Francisco Thunder. Yes. Her.”

“In love?” He looks as skeptical as he would if I told him I had had an anal probe by aliens.

“Falling. Hard and fast,” I admit, and it feels fantastic to finally say it.

He leans back and then leans forward again. His brows pinch together then pull apart, then pinch together again. It’s like watching some weird eyebrow foxtrot. “But how? I mean, do you guys even talk outside of work?”

“We’ve been talking and texting since that charity auction before I joined the team. Actually we kissed last year when I was in town to play that preseason game.”

“You kissed her? Way back then? Why?”

“Because we were stuck in an elevator.” I shrug and sink back into the armchair. “Anyway, we knew that when I started on the team we’d have to cut it out, so we decided to have sex to really work it out of our systems,” I explain. I tip my head back so I’m looking at the ceiling instead of Levi as I finish my confession. “And that didn’t really work because I still want to have sex with her again. Indefinitely. And we have kind of been slipping up. She helped distract me.”

“From?” Levi demands.

“From my problems on the ice. But I made her feel like this isn’t a big deal, that she was nothing but a distraction, and she’s more than that.” I sigh heavily. “She’s just this…amazing force, you know? From her career to harassing her brother to telling me off, she does it all with this bold, fearless energy. And she’s the only thing that got me through this PTSD shit from the accident by forcing me to face it.”

“I wanted you to face it,” Levi says earnestly. I look over at him and can see the hurt on his face.

“Don’t get all pouty, big brother, you fucking diva muffin.” I grin at him. “You know I wouldn’t listen to you if you were the last man on earth.”

“Because you’re a fucking tool,” Levi replies.

“No. Because you’re a pod person sometimes,” I retort with love. “You try to be perfect and emotionless all the time, like Mom and Dad. This was an emotional problem.”

“So you admit you’re an emotional train wreck?”

I lean forward and very slowly, very carefully flip him the bird. He lets out a hearty laugh.

“Back to the important stuff,” Levi says, and I glance at him. I don’t think I have ever seen him look more befuddled. “Does she know how you feel?”

“No. I told you, I fucked it up. But I want this to continue, regardless of all this shit it’ll cause.” I sigh and lean forward, my elbows on my knees. “And that makes me a selfish asshole, because if we get caught, she’s the one who loses her job and ruins her career, not me.”

“Yeah…” Levi agrees and then bites back a smile. “But you’ll end up with two black eyes, at minimum, because Jude will attempt to kill you, so she’s not the only one who’ll suffer, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t,” I reply in a clipped tone.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to make light of this.” Levi pulls himself off the bed and stands, arms crossed as he ponders my shitastic situation. “How does she feel about you?”

“The same. At least she did. But she’s just fighting it,” I explain. “Her co-worker got fired for messing around with Eddie.”

“Yeah, I heard they let someone go.” Levi nods. “It’s not the first time it’s happened, and it won’t be the last, I’m sure.”

Our eyes lock, and he instantly looks flustered. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean Dixie.”

“But it will happen to her if they find out.” I swear under my breath, a long, low stream of expletives. It doesn’t make me feel better. I stand up. “Look, I’m going to go down to the pool and do some laps, burn off some stress, before I have to go to this dinner thing with the fan and Dixie and that tool reporter.”

Levi laughs. “Tom’s a great guy.”

“Yeah? Would you be saying that if he hit on Tessa in front of you, but you couldn’t do a damn thing about it?”

“He’s interested in Dixie?” Levi looks stunned again. “Dude, is your life always a soap opera, or is this a new thing?”

I flip him two middle fingers this time. “Very supportive, dick.”

“Sorry. I honestly wish I had advice for you, Eli,” Levi says as he walks toward me. “She might have feelings for you, but giving up her job is a lot to ask.”

“I know.” I nod. “That’s why I’m not asking.”

He nods. “If I think of anything helpful, I’ll let you know. And not to add to your list of problems, but make sure when it’s time, Jude finds out from you and her and not someone else. He’s not going to forgive you otherwise, and as much as they love to annoy each other, the Braddock kids would kill for each other. Remember that.”

“Kind of like you would kill for me?” I joke.

“I wouldn’t kill for you, but I’d help you move a body,” he quips back as I open the door and he leaves. I close the door behind him and drop back on the bed and close my eyes. How the hell am I going to make this work?