I walk through the bustling concourse slowly, absorbing the happy energy the fans are filling the air with. I don’t always walk through the public parts of the arena on game days, but today, I needed the pick-me-up. I’ve been in a bad mood since I got served, and I need all the help I can get to shake it. The happy energy the fans have normally helps me relax, but today, it’s not helping much. I don’t think anything will. I turn a corner, my eyes focused on two kids in Thunder jerseys who are bouncing with excitement as their parents walk then through the arena, but then something in front of me catches my attention instead. It’s a quick blur of teal jacket and brown hair moving violently downward. I instantly reach out, my hands grabbing onto her a little roughly, but I manage to keep her from hitting the cement floor.

“Oh, my God, thank you!” she says in a gasp, and I realize I just caught Trish, one of the Thunder’s PR team.

“You’re welcome,” I reply and help her to her feet. I look down and see a bright orange blob of nacho cheese sauce smeared across the floor and on the edge of her high heel. “Some sloppy nacho eating fan almost killed you.”

“That would make for a nifty headline,” Trish replies wryly. “Hockey team employee killed by nacho cheese. As a publicist I can’t thank you enough for keeping that headline from becoming a reality.”

She lets out a little laugh and squeezes my arm. I pat her hand reassuringly. “It’s all good.”

I wave over an arena employee. “We have a spill here. Can you call someone with a mop?”

“Sure thing,” the employee says and gets on his walkie-talkie immediately. Confident he is going to stand there until it’s cleaned up, I thank him and start back toward the doors that lead to the staff area. Trish follows along beside me.

“Since I have your attention, I was going to ask you about the goaltending situation. You know it’ll be the press’s first question,” Trish says as I hold the door open for her. “How is Eli?”

“He appears fine, but we’re keeping him out as a precaution,” I explain. She nods and types something into her phone as I come to a stop at the elevator and punch the up button. “I’m heading up to the team box to watch the warm-up.”

“Thanks again for saving my ass—literally,” she says with a laugh. “Go Thunder!”

She turns to walk down the hall as I step into the elevator.

Ten minutes later I’m watching Noah in net during warm-up. He looks good, stopping the majority of shots his teammates are taking on him. His movements indicate he’s a little stiff. But I’m not worried. I have watched him enough in practice scrimmages to know he’ll loosen up the longer he is out there.

As he leaves the net to skate around a little, I let my eyes drift around the arena. The super-fans, as I like to call them, are gathered down around the boards, watching. I remember the rush of their cheers and the funny signs some of them would bring. I used to love to find the youngest kid and toss him or her a puck over the boards.

But as I search for that young wide-eyed fan pressed up against the glass, I spot someone else instead. Sadie Braddock. She looks like a sexy, free-spirited hippie country girl—which is weird for a nurse from Toronto, Canada—and hot as hell. She reminds me of those country-loving Carolina girls I used to meet on summer vacations with my parents. Only Sadie’s better.

I know it was my decision to stop things before they started with Sadie, but just seeing her makes me want to talk to her again. And I shouldn’t. This custody thing with Lauren isn’t going away any time soon, so I shouldn’t make my life any more complicated than it is. And dating is always complicated, especially as a single dad. I need to leave it alone right now or I’ll screw it up. Again. So I just take this secretive moment, while no one will notice, to drink her in. She’s standing next to Jude’s wife, who passes Sadie the baby in her arms. He’s wearing a tiny Thunder jersey with BRADDOCK on the back. I loved when Charlie wore a little version of my jersey when I played.

She takes the little boy into her arms and lifts his chubby arm, helping him wave to his dad. Jude skates to a stop in front of them, makes a goofy face at his son, and I can see Sadie say something. Jude rolls his eyes at his sister, but he’s smiling and his wife is laughing. Sadie looks down at the child and nuzzles his cheek. It makes him giggle, and she grins. She’s perfect. The thought floods me.

I tear my eyes away from her as the horn sounds, signaling the end of the warm-up. I force myself to leave the box without looking back at her. I make my way down to the locker room and talk over some strategy with Noah and try to gauge his nerves. As soon as we’re on the same page and he’s feeling confident, I leave. I turn to walk toward the elevators, trying to focus on the game ahead and not my personal issues. It feels like an impossible task. And as if the Universe is trying to prove my point, Eli’s voice booms down the cavernous hallway.

“Sully!”

I turn and find Eli, in a suit, standing next to Dixie. And next to her is Sadie. She’s staring back at me with those beautiful light blue eyes. Her expression is indifferent, though, and that kind of stings. I don’t know what I expected; after all, I shut us down before we even began.

“Hey, Eli.” I nod. “Coming up to the box? Hello, Dixie. Sadie.”

Dixie waves. Sadie pauses a moment. “Hi, Griffin.”

Eli’s dark brown eyes pinch for a minute, but then he smiles. “Right! You met Sadie at the hospital.”

“Yes,” I reply, and my eyes move back to her. The air is heavy between us with unsaid things, and Eli seems to be picking up on it as his brow furrows again. Sadie snaps the tension with a simple shrug of her shoulders. “I’m going into the lounge. Later!”

Dixie kisses Eli’s cheek, waves at me again, and follows her sister.

I stare after them until I can’t see Sadie anymore. Eli, still looking confused, says, “Ready to head upstairs?”

I nod because, whether I like it or not, that’s all I can do. Following Sadie into the family lounge, pressing her up against the bar, and kissing her isn’t an option.

Three periods later, the game is over, and San Diego is going home with the win. Overall, though, it wasn’t a bad game. At least not from my perspective. Noah let in only one goal. Our offense didn’t score any. That’s on them, not the goalie. I kept wanting to head down to the lounge between periods and talk to Sadie, but I forced myself not to. It wouldn’t do any good.

In the elevator on my way down to the players’ level, I get a text from Lauren. She’s complaining that Charlie keeps asking for a dog, and she accuses me of letting her think she might get one. I take a deep breath and hold it as long as I can without suffocating. Is this woman for real? I call her as the elevator opens and I step out. She answers on the first ring.

“What?”

“I haven’t been encouraging the dog obsession. But you know how focused she gets,” I say as calmly as I can. “I promise I’ll explain to her why it’s not a good idea.”

“And stop taking her to the dog park.”

“It’s a regular park next to a dog park, and it’s the closest one to the boat,” I tell her. “We can walk there, and she also likes watching the skateboarders on the ramps there.”

“That only encourages her to want a skateboard. You have to discourage that too, Griffin,” Lauren lectures. “She’s only six.”

“Lauren, you’re being a bit…” I search for a word that won’t send her into a fit. “Much.”

“You want co-parenting? This is co-parenting,” Lauren snaps.

“No, this is you micromanaging your ex-husband,” I shoot back. “You didn’t even do that when we were married. What the hell is going on with you?”

“I’m annoyed, Griffin,” Lauren complains. She pauses, and I think we might actually be getting somewhere. “I’m divorced, but yet you’re still in my life almost daily. How can I move on when you’re always around? It’s frustrating.”

Okay, even though I have zero romantic feelings for her, that stings. We promised each other when we decided to divorce that we’d make sure we both stayed in Charlie’s life. I accepted that meant that Lauren stayed in my life as well to a small extent, but, clearly, she hasn’t accepted it—at least not anymore, and that makes me feel shitty.

“Okay, well, I can’t do anything about that,” I say flatly. “Charlie is both of ours and will always be.”

“But she’ll be happier when I’m happier, and that means changing this agreement,” Lauren replies, and my whole body is buzzing with anger.

“She’s perfectly happy now. If you’re not, figure it out,” I snap.

“I am. See you in court!”

The line goes dead. Frustration twists my stomach and turns my blood hot. Why is she doing this? I could list a ton of Lauren’s personality faults, as she could mine, but being irrational or mean for the sake it was never one of them.

I’m storming down the hallway now, still staring at my phone screen in a blind, confused rage, so I don’t see someone opening the door and stepping into my path. “Whoa!” is all I hear seconds before I feel someone collide with me. She grabs my jacket lapels as she teeters backward, and I instinctively grab her elbows, my phone clattering to the ground between us.

I realize it’s Sadie, and suddenly instead of letting her go when she regains her balance, I keep my hand on her elbow. When she takes a step back, it slips to her wrist and then, for a brief moment our fingers tangle, but then all contact is gone.

“Sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” I tell her.

“Yeah. It’s fine,” Sadie replies curtly. “Later.”

“How are you?” I ask as she’s about to turn to leave. She doesn’t move except to lift her head to bring her gaze to mine.

“You look fucking spectacular in a suit,” she tells me, and I’m shocked by her candor. “It’s like you’re Giorgio Armani’s muse or something. Does he have you stand in his studio and design that thing for you specifically or what?”

“No.” I smile. “But I’m flattered.”

“You’re hard not to notice…whether I like it or not.”

“You’re pretty hard to miss yourself,” I tell her. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you during warm-up when I should’ve been watching the players.”

Her eyelashes flutter. “I’m not even wearing Armani. My outfit is Target.”

She’s trying to make a joke, but I’m not in a laughing mood.

“It’s more than what you’re wearing. I noticed the way you let your nephew play with your hair without worrying if he messed it up. The smile on your face as you said something to Jude through the glass.” I pause and watch the words really sink in. And just in case that isn’t enough to make her blush, I tell her more. “You remind me of a wildflower. Beautiful, delicate, but strong and wild.”

Her whole face explodes into a shade of pink that I wanted. It somehow makes her even more beautiful. But she won’t hold my gaze, instead staring at the small space of blue concrete floor between us. “I should go.”

“I know. I should too,” I reply, but I don’t move and I don’t want her to either. Her hair is creating a veil so I can’t see her face, so I reach out and let my fingers graze it in an attempt to brush it back. It feels incredible against my skin, but the contact causes her to step back. There are footsteps coming toward us, and we both look over as some executives march by.

Sadie drops her gaze again to the floor, then leans down and picks up my phone. She seems to freeze for a second, her head looking toward the screen. Then she stands up and shoves it at me. Her shoulders are rigid, her expression tense.

“I have a lot going on right now too. I’m sure you’ve heard my dad is dying,” she tells me as I take the phone from her. “And I am strong and wild just like you think I am. But not wild enough to date a married man and not strong enough to handle additional drama right now. Later, Griffin.”

She pushes past me. I’m so stunned I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. I look down at the phone. The screen still has Lauren’s contact information showing. Lauren Sullivan.

She must think I’m still married. That has to be why she’s been so cold. She must think that’s why I bailed on our date. Oh, God. I turn and watch her walking away. Maybe it’s better if she doesn’t know the truth. Telling her I’m divorced will serve no purpose except to open up a door I can’t bring myself to walk through right now. But…I hate lies…even if they seem to be helping a situation, they aren’t. I start to follow her down the hall.

“Sadie,” I call out, but she doesn’t stop walking. I pick up my pace and catch her as she reaches the elevator bank and aggressively punches the button.

I come to a stop in front of her, blocking her way to the elevator even if the doors open. “I’m divorced.”

“That’s what any cheating guy would say.”

I lift up my left hand for proof. “No ring.”

She looks at it and then back at me. She bites her bottom lip as she thinks that over. “Cheaters take their rings off all the time and stick them in their pockets or whatever.”

I lift both arms, holding them out like I’m getting ready for a pat-down. “Check my pockets. Frisk me. You won’t find a ring. I threw it in the ocean the day the divorce was final.”

She blinks. “That’s dramatic.”

“Divorces tend to get the emotions going pretty good.” I give her a quick, playful smile. “But please frisk me anyway. It’ll be the most action I’ve had in a long time.”

She laughs. It’s such a great sound, and it knocks the tension right out of the space between us. The elevator dings, but she doesn’t get on. She just stares at me, smiling, while the doors close behind me. She bites her bottom lip. “I think I’m disappointed you’re not married.”

“Why?”

“Because if you’re not married, then that’s not why you canceled our date,” she confesses, and her cheeks start to turn pink. “The only other reason I can think of is that you just aren’t interested, which is totally your right but…sucks.”

“That’s not true,” I reply and sigh. “You’re the only person I’ve been interested in since my divorce. All I’ve been doing is thinking about you.”

The blush on her apple cheeks deepens. I take a step toward her, take her hand in mine and pull her to the side of the hall, out of view of anyone who might glance this way. I don’t want to be interrupted. “My divorce isn’t new, but it’s still complicated because we have a daughter. The most incredible little girl in the world. And as much as I can’t get you out of my head, and don’t want to, I need to focus on that right now.”

I stop short of telling her the dirty details because I’m still processing them myself. And besides, she is going through a lot with her own family. I don’t need to dump my shit on her too.

She nods slowly. “I understand putting family first more than anyone.”

“I’m sorry,” I say in a low, rough voice still choked with attraction. I just admitted to her that I can’t be with her, but my body is still reacting to her. My pulse is galloping, my blood is getting warmer, and my dick is getting hard. I lick my lips, and her pretty eyes follow my tongue.

“Don’t be,” she replies, but her voice lacks conviction. “It’s best for both of us if we don’t start something we can’t finish.”

“Okay then,” I say and take a step back.

She sighs and takes her own step back from me. “Thanks for being honest.”

“Thanks for being understanding,” I reply.

She starts to walk back to the elevator. I watch her punch the button, but then she slowly turns around to face me again.

She takes a couple hesitant steps toward me, like she’s fighting her own actions. So I close the rest of the space between us. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that even if nothing else can happen, that this should,” she says and then she puts a hand on my shoulder, lifts herself onto her toes, and presses her lips to mine.

Her lips are soft and tentative, like she’s worried I might stop her. She doesn’t need to be. As soon as our mouths connect, I know I need this kiss as much as she does. I reach down and grip her hips, pulling her flush against me. Her body feels so good against mine I groan. Her arms wrap tightly around my neck, and as her lips part, my tongue slides against hers and everything inside me roars to life. Every second of the kiss is passionate, desperate, and perfect—but it’s over in an instant. We both pull back at the same time, and the startled look on my face is echoed in hers. She touches her lips with her fingertips. “I’ve never had a first and last kiss at the very same time.”

“Neither have I,” I say as my pulse races.

“I guess it makes it memorable.” She smiles, but it’s almost melancholy.

“Even before that kiss, you, Sadie, are someone I could never forget.”

The elevator doors open and she almost runs inside. She smiles at me as the doors start to close, and I fight every single muscle in my body to keep myself planted where I am and not follow her inside. But I have to let her go.