Chapter 5

My phone rings.

My head snaps up and I stare at it. Could it be Kendra?

I leap up and lunge across the room to grab it. I peer at the call display. Well, hell. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, Max. How are you?”

I blow out a breath and lean against the island separating the kitchen from my living and dining area. “Good.”

“How’s your new training program going? Haven’t talked to you since you started it.”

“It’s tough. I’m working hard.”

“I guess you won’t be coming home for the rest of the summer.”

“I don’t think so.” I shove a hand into my hair and walk over to the windows. Rain is falling now, sliding down the glass in silvery trails. Mom still calls Lethbridge home even though I haven’t really lived there since I was sixteen. But I did go back and spend summers there for a lot of years when I played major junior, and even the first few years after I was drafted into the NHL. “I was just there, though.”

“That was six months ago.”

My parents had been concerned about me and insisted I come home for a visit. I’d been floundering, kind of lost, and so I’d gotten on a plane to Calgary, rented a car, and driven south to Lethbridge where I’d holed up in my parents’ home for a month. “Was it that long ago?” I shake my head. “Time got away from me, I guess.”

“You’re doing okay?” Mom’s tone is warm and gentle.

“I am.” I nod even though she can’t see me. “I really am. Getting back to a routine has been a good thing. And eating right and working out helps, too. Went to a wedding on the weekend and saw a bunch of the guys, and it was…good. Fun.” And I had sex. Yeah, that’s not something you tell your mom, although knowing her, she’d be happy to hear it. I know how worried she’s been.

“I’m glad to hear that. And are you settled into your new place?”

“Yeah. It’s great. How are you and Dad doing?”

We chat about Dad’s plumbing business, Mom’s volunteer work at the hospital, what my three little sisters are up to. They’re not little anymore…Samantha is twenty-seven and has a baby now, Brittany’s twenty-six and lives in Calgary working for a big oil company, and Alyssa is twenty-one (yes, she was a late surprise for my parents) and is home for the summer. She plays hockey like me, and goes to Dartmouth College.

“Well, if you won’t be home before the season starts, maybe Dad and I need to make a trip to Chicago,” Mom says.

“You don’t have to do that, Mom. I’m fine.” Mom finds Chicago scary and neither of them really like flying. But they do come visit sometimes, because they’re proud of me.

They’re such a normal, regular, working-class family in a small, tight-knit community where they have deep roots. Somehow they raised a kid who became kind of a big deal. No lie, when I go home to Lethbridge I’m like a rock star there. A few years ago we won the Stanley Cup and I got to take it home for a day, and there was a fucking parade and I got the keys to the city. This makes Mom and Dad kind of a big deal in the community, too.

“I’ll let you know,” she says. “It sounds like you’re moving forward, Max. I’m so glad.”

“I am, Mom. I’m doing okay.”

We end the call and I keep staring out the window at the rain. Hearing from my mom is nice. Family’s important. I was always close to all my sisters, looking out for them in a way that probably annoyed them. I always figured I’d have my own family. I love kids. My niece is adorable. But over the past year and a half, I’ve basically cut myself off from them, other than that visit home. And that makes my chest ache even more.

I look down at the phone in my hand.

I know I’m going to give in to the urge.

I find Kendra’s number and tap in a text message.

Why the hell not? She made the offer. She was clear there were no strings attached. And I don’t want to be alone right now.

There are other people I could call. I’ve hung out with teammate Jared Rupp a bit over the past year. But he has a new baby and he’s all busy with that, and seeing him and his girlfriend and baby, a happy little family, sort of depresses me. Lots of my Aces buddies have paired up lately, which is sort of ironic, now that I’m single. Tanner Bennet just proposed to his girlfriend at the wedding Saturday night and Army and Amber will probably get married. My best buddy, Nicky Balachov, is still single, but he’s gone home to Toronto and won’t be back until later in the summer. Or I could always go visit Ariana’s family. I haven’t seen them all for a while and I feel a little guilty about that. Especially when they tell me how much Kevin, Ariana’s brother, misses me. It’s just…hard.

Kendra doesn’t respond right away so I wander back to my kitchen. I guess I’ll be having the quinoa pilaf and grilled chicken for dinner tonight, as per Greg’s diet. Then if I don’t hear from Kendra, I’ll start reading the book I just picked up, The Mind of a Champion. It’s about how champion athletes think. I’ve been reading a lot lately, all kinds of stuff, nonfiction about sports and performance, mystery and thriller fiction.

My phone dings and I grab it. My mouth spreads into a grin when I read Kendra’s response. Hey, hockey dude! Good to hear from you. I don’t have plans this evening. What did you have in mind?

How raw and honest should I be?

Dinner and a movie is out. That would be a date. I don’t want to date her. I want to fuck her.

I think you know what I have in mind.

Ugh.

My thumbs move over the screen. Are you comfortable coming to my place? I have quinoa pilaf.

How can I resist quinoa!

I grin. I know, right? I’ll pick you up at…I glance at my watch…6.

You don’t need to pick me up. I can take a taxi.

Fuck no. I’ll pick you up.

Okay. But I’m not at the Peninsula. I moved to the Doubletree yesterday. It’s on E Ohio.

Got it.

I glance around my condo. There’s a pile of books and magazines on the coffee table. That’s okay. It’s the bedroom and bathroom I should be worried about. I speed into the bedroom. When was the last time I changed the sheets? I can’t remember, so that’s not okay. I yank them off, ball them up and stuff them into a hamper, then whip out a clean set from the linen cupboard in the hall. They’re chocolate-brown, like almost everything else in the condo that isn’t white. I wrestle the fitted sheet onto the mattress, then stuff pillows into clean pillowcases and finally toss the brown duvet over it all. In the bathroom, I get rid of the towels that are hanging there and replace them with clean ones—more brown. They’re nice, thick towels, though.

I study my reflection in the mirror in the bathroom. I showered at the gym but I could shave…I rub my jaw. Or not. I’ll just trim the stubble and change into jeans and a shirt instead of the sweatpants and hoodie I’m wearing.

I try to shove the sweatpants into the hamper, which is now full. Apparently, I need to do laundry. Tomorrow. I’ll do it tomorrow.

Now that ache in my chest is gone and I feel energy vibrating in me, excitement fizzing through my veins.

The quinoa pilaf is kind of lame and I don’t even have wine to offer her. I’m the one who’s not drinking, but she could. I can pick up a bottle on the way to get her. Actually, she likes beer. Maybe I should get more beer. What the hell, I’ll get both.

And condoms. Jesus fucking Christ. I need condoms.

A while later I pull up into the curved driveway in front of the Doubletree, prepared to go inside to Kendra’s room to get her, but she’s standing outside the doors, sheltered from the rain by the overhang. Damn. She’s pretty.

She’s wearing jeans and yeah, they’re ripped, but the kind of ripped that looks stylish. Or maybe it’s just her…with a pair of skinny high heels, a long, loose tank top, and a scarf draped around her neck, she looks amazing.

She spots me and a smile breaks out on her face. She lifts a hand and waits for me to slow to a stop, then darts across the sidewalk to the passenger side.

Once inside, she slams the door and says a breathy, “Hi!”

“Hi.” I can’t stop smiling, either, as I meet her eyes.

She shifts her giant purse, reaches for the seatbelt and pulls it across her chest, and I put the SUV in gear and drive forward.

Immediately, her presence has my dick sitting up and taking notice. Her scent fills the small space, and I can’t help notice the way the seatbelt pulls her top taut over her breasts.

“I was surprised to hear from you,” she says.

I glance at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It felt like you weren’t really interested when you left the other day.”

I was. I was definitely interested. But I had no intention of actually calling her when I left her hotel room Sunday afternoon. I don’t want to tell her that, though. So I shrug and shoulder check to change lanes. “I never said that.”

“No. You didn’t.”

“I ran into your cousin on my way out that afternoon.”

“Lovey?”

“No, Duncan.”

“Ah.”

“He, uh, kind of figured out that I’d stayed the night with someone. I didn’t say who, though.”

“Oh.” She lifts a shoulder. “Well.” She worries her lip with her teeth briefly. “It wouldn’t be a big deal if he knew.”

She seems uncomfortable despite her words. But then she shakes her hair back, smiles, and says, “So where do you live?”

“West Loop. I bought a condo there about six months ago.”

“So not far.”

“Nope.” I slide her another glance. “You know Chicago well?”

“Mmm…not that well, but in the past year I’ve been here five or six times on business. Now that Lovey’s living here, I visit her while I’m in town.” She pauses. “Do you like living here?”

“I do. It was a little overwhelming at first, but I’ve really gotten to like it.”

“You said you’re from Canada…but where exactly?”

“Alberta. Lethbridge. It’s a small city. Like, maybe a hundred thousand people.”

“That’s not that small. Is it in the mountains?”

I smile. “No. But the Rockies are close.”

“I’d love to see the Rockies. I’ve always wanted to go to Banff.”

“Banff is cool. The Rockies are beautiful.”

“Do you ski?”

“Yeah. I love skiing. Don’t get much chance to do it anymore, though.”

“I guess not. I love skiing, too. We used to do ski trips a few times a year when I was a teenager.”

“Were you an athletic kid? Did you play other sports or were you more studious?”

“I wasn’t super-athletic, but I did play volleyball and softball. As for being studious, I did okay in school but I was usually too busy with other things to spend a lot of time studying.”

“Too busy partying?”

She rolls her eyes. “No. I was actually a pretty serious kid. I saw all these problems in the world—or in my city—oh, hell, even in my own family—that I thought needed to be fixed. I was always fighting for some kind of cause—the environment, the bees, the lakes…”

“Bees?”

“Yes! Bees are important! Millions of them are dying off, and we need them to pollinate all kinds of things…even the alfalfa we feed dairy cows. If the bees disappear, we won’t have any food.”

I blink. “Oookay.”

“It’s true.” She nods.

“I believe you. I just wasn’t…aware.”

“That was one of my missions.” She grins. “To make people aware.”

I pull into the underground parking beneath my building. The engine of the SUV echoes as I roar down the ramp and find my spot.

Kendra takes in the swank elevator as we ride it to my floor, then my condo after I let us in. I’m carrying the beer and wine I stopped to pick up, and I head to the kitchen to put it in the fridge.

“Wow.” She walks into the living room. The overcast skies have made it unusually dark outside and water still glimmers on the windows, the lights of nearby buildings a shimmery blur. “This is gorgeous.”

“Thanks.”

Would it be wrong for me to rush over and tackle her down onto the couch? Yeah.

“How long did you say you’ve been here?”

“About six months.”

She nods, turning in a circle. She’s like a bright flame in my all brown and white abode. “I guess that’s why you have no pictures on the walls.”

I frown. “Oh, yeah. The interior designer wanted to put some up, but I said I would. Just never got around to it.”

Kendra smiles and a knot of need tightens in my belly. “It looks a little bare, but your designer did a nice job.”

“It’s okay. Would you like a beer or glass of wine?”

She turns to me. “Are you having one?”

“No.”

Her mouth twists into a wry smile. “I guess I could have one. But it feels weird if you’re not.”

“Don’t let me stop you. Really.” I pull a glass out of the cupboard. “Beer?”

“Sure. What do you miss most about the diet?”

“Ah, Christ. I love junk food. But I guess most of all I miss…spray cheese.”

She laughs. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” I give her a wry grin as I pour the beer. “I used to shoot it right into my mouth. Although I do love it on top of saltines.”

She shakes her head. “That’s gross!”

“Oh, come on. You have to have a guilty pleasure food.”

“Okay, yeah. I’ve done the same thing with a can of whipped cream.”

“There you go.” I nod approvingly. “Anyway, I’m pretty determined to stick to this diet plan. At least for now.”

“How you eat should be something you can stick with for life.”

I pause. “That’s true.” I open the fridge. “I guess…I just want to make the team. Then I’m not going to go back to eating junk food and drinking beer every day. But I’ll be able to relax a little. Even Greg says that once we’re into the season we can ease up.”

“You have to make the team? Aren’t you already on the team?” She takes the beer.

I grab a bottle of water for myself and cross to the gas fireplace and turn it on. I haven’t used it much now that it’s summer, but the gloomy, rainy evening seems like a great time for a fire. “I am, but everyone has to try out at training camp and prove they deserve a spot on the roster. And since I’ve been out for quite a while, I have a lot to prove.”

“They have to give you some credit for all the years you’ve played.” She sits on the white leather couch and crosses her legs.

I drag my gaze off her sexy ankles and feet in high heels and back up to her face. “It doesn’t really work that way. If I can’t contribute and help the team win, I’ll be playing in Rockford this year. Or traded.”

I remember the advice I gave those rookie dudes…how playing for the farm team isn’t the end of the world. Shit. I’m a hypocrite. It would be pretty goddamn galling to end up playing for the farm team after nine years in the NHL.

Fuck.

“I did this to myself,” I say with a heavy sigh, sitting beside her. “I wasn’t really thinking things through when I decided to take time off.” Actually, when I first made the decision to take time off, I had no idea it would turn into that long. But at some point it wasn’t really a decision…I just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t play hockey.

She eyes me over the rim of her beer glass. “It was your decision? I thought you were injured.” Her voice is even and calm.

I rub the back of my head, looking away from her, then back. I meet her eyes, which are steady and composed. “I wasn’t injured. My wife died.”