Chapter 8—Puck Drop

After the game, Marina stayed in her small office later than usual, going over video and studying the players’ skating techniques, especially the ones who hadn’t played up to par. Drew was one of those. He hadn’t played well in the first two games, but his problems went deeper than his technique. Regardless, she’d watched Drew way too much both live and on video, and it wasn’t his form she was evaluating, though she did a little of that.

When she couldn’t keep her eyes focused any longer, she gathered her things and stepped into the corridor and right into the angry sights of Stafford Delacorte. He saw her, and his face turned a bright red. He was standing so close to the door, she couldn’t avoid him. She quickly surveyed her surroundings. No one happened to be in the area at the time. Drew hadn’t come out of the locker room yet. No rescuers in sight.

Fine, she could take on this blowhard herself.

She squared her shoulders and put on her most pleasant smile as she shut the door behind her, in effect shutting off her escape route and preventing others from hearing whatever he might say.

“How are you, Mr. Delacorte?”

He narrowed his eyes and sneered at her. Then he leaned in slightly and lowered his voice. “You have no business working for an NHL team. What was Gorst thinking?”

“You’re entitled to your opinion.” She lifted her chin a notch and gave him a haughty look, even though she knew it’d piss him off.

His eyes, so much like Drew’s, were stormy and his stance was threatening. She refused to let him intimidate her.

“I don’t know what your angle is, but stay away from my son.” He’d gone from threatening to menacing, and she couldn’t prevent fear from repelling her a couple steps backward. The jerk smirked with triumph, knowing he’d gotten to her. Men like him loved to intimidate anyone they considered weaker. Well, screw him. She’d show him. She might not be large, but she had the heart of a lion.

Marina met his gaze with disinterest and let out a bored sigh. “My angle is to improve their skating. Seeing as you’re married to a figure-skating coach, I’m certain you’re aware of how well figure skaters learn to control all their edges, while hockey players are more concerned with blocking and scoring.”

He stiffened; she’d struck a nerve.

“I know Parker screwed around with one of his employees, so I assume this organization doesn’t mind coaches dating players, either, but in my book it’s highly unprofessional.”

She could’ve pointed out how unprofessional it was to show up for a live TV interview drunk, but that would be sadly hypocritical of her. Then his actual words sank in. Coaches dating players?

“Exactly what are you getting at?”

“Drew told me you have a date with him tonight.”

“I do?” She blinked a few times, attempting to process his words, certain she’d misheard them.

“I’m a professional,” she said. “My relationship with Drew is—”

A muscle jerked in his jaw. “I’ve witnessed your brand of professionalism. The entire country has. I can’t believe Drew is stupid enough to associate with the likes of you after how you betrayed his mother.”

“I— I—” Marina was at a loss for words. She’d apologized both times for her behavior, but apologies weren’t enough, especially for the second incident, and she understood that.

Drew took that moment to walk out of the locker room. He hesitated only briefly, as if quickly assessing the situation before a mask slipped in place. He smiled pleasantly, but not before she caught the guilt reflected there.

“Marina, we need to get to work on going over those stats.” He nodded at his father, barely acknowledging him. Marina stared at him incredulously.

“She tried to tell me you’re friends. What a crock of bullshit,” Stafford said, shooting an accusing glare her direction.

Drew didn’t miss a beat. “We are, Dad. We’re friends. This is hockey-related. You did want me to get more involved with the team and hockey, didn’t you?”

“Not with her. She can’t help you. If you want help with your skating, your mother is more qualified.” Marina thought Stafford’s head would blow up. He turned a purplish red. His eyes bugged out, and his jaw was tighter than piano strings.

“We need to get started, Dad.”

“You’d rather work with her than spend the evening with several hockey legends?”

“Uh, yeah, I would. This is for the team. I’m sure your guys will understand.” Drew glanced at his watch and motioned to Marina, just as the elevator opened and a group of Stafford’s buddies walked out.

“Nice to see you, Mr. Delacorte,” Marina said. He shot her one last glare that said this wasn’t over and adopted his affable smile as he turned to the small group of men he’d once played professional hockey with.

“You’re in deep, deep shit,” Marina told him through gritted teeth. Drew looked right through her as if he didn’t hear a word.

It wasn’t until they were safely inside Drew’s SUV and pulling from the parking garage that she started shaking with anger.

“What the hell were you thinking? Your father thinks something is going on between us?”

“I never gave him that impression. He’s the one who jumped to that conclusion,” he replied defensively. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead.

“You had no right. You’re endangering my position with the team by pulling bullshit like that. If Gorst hears, I’m done. He’s not one to put up with drama.”

She couldn’t believe he’d done something so selfish and stupid. He knew how precarious her position was. She was beginning to believe where his father was concerned, Drew needed a healthy dose of reality, and she was about to give it to him.

 

* * * *

 

Drew glanced at Marina as he drove his car down a quiet side street. She was so angry at him her entire body shook, her face was crimson, and her hands were crossed over her chest. She might be a little thing but looking like that she could be intimidating. Only he wasn’t intimidated. Much. He’d faced hockey players outweighing him by fifty-plus pounds bent on slamming him into the boards. They didn’t scare him, either. He knew his teammates had their questions about his courage, but fear wasn’t his driving issue. To be afraid, a guy had to care, and Drew had a hard time caring about much.

“OK, I’m sorry I dragged you into this. You were the first name that came to mind when he asked me to join them,” he said with as much contriteness as he could manage.

She shot him a look that would’ve melted the ice in Sockeyes Arena.

“I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?”

Another death glare.

“I promise I’ll straighten my dad out and never suck you into my family drama again.”

“You’re right you won’t be doing it again. I can’t be the first name you think of when you want an excuse to get away from him. Our relationship is strictly business, limited to my coaching you in practice, and that is it.”

“We have that pairs routine,” he reminded her and braced himself for impact.

“So we do. We’ll need to find practice times during the day, rather than at night.”

“That’s going to be tough.”

“I’ll figure it out. I don’t want any false rumors flying about us. That’s the last thing I need.”

OK, so he did feel like a shit. He’d endangered her career and could’ve destroyed what little progress she’d made in repairing her reputation.

“Marina, I really am sorry. I am.”

The anger slid from her face, and her lower lip quivered. Oh, fuck, she was going to cry. He panicked, looking for a place to pull over. He couldn’t handle her crying while he was driving. He’d never been good with emotions in himself or others. He swerved into an empty bank parking lot and put the car in park.

“You don’t understand. You’ve never hit rock bottom and had to scratch and claw and fight your way up. Things came easy for you.” She glared at him through tear-filled eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He held his hands out, palms up, not knowing what else to do.

“How dare you do this to me. How dare you. Did you do this on purpose? Are you trying to ruin me? I know your mom hates me. Are you—” Her words were swallowed up by long sobbing gulps of air. Drew didn’t know what else to do. He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, stroking her back and whispering words of comfort in her ear. Eventually, her small body stopping shaking, and her heart-wrenching sobs subsided to occasional hiccups.

“It’s not fair. I made one stupid mistake at the worst possible time.” She pulled back and looked up at him. He couldn’t stop himself from gently wiping her tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“I promise you, I’d never purposely do anything to harm you. My mother had nothing to do with my actions; it was purely my own stupidity and selfishness.”

She almost smiled, and his heart soared. He was forgiven, and her forgiveness meant more to him than it should’ve. He grinned at her and cupped her face in his hands. She didn’t pull away, and that thing happened again where they were the only two on earth.

He could hear—sense—her heart beating, feel her breath giving him life, inhale her sweet scent until nothing else mattered.

“This is so hard. I want you so much.”

“Drew, I—I know. I want you, too.” The exact moment her eyes darkened with desire, he reacted, unable to stop himself. His mouth covered hers. His arms pulled her upper body across the console. She buried her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth closer for a bruising kiss.

Holy, fucking hell.

This little thing packed a mighty punch, and his libido shifted into high gear. If there was any voice of reason left in his head, it drained when she tugged his dress shirt from his pants and slid her hand under it. Her fingers traveled up his abs to his rib cage and pecs until she fingered one of his nipples. He kissed her hungrily, losing himself and gaining a raging hard-on. She dragged her mouth from his and loosened his tie. She tugged it off and tossed it into the back seat. Her fingers deftly unbuttoned his dress shirt. In moments her hot, wet mouth contacted the skin around one collarbone, and he was a goner. After sliding the seat back as far as it’d go, he grasped one of her thighs and pulled her on top of him so she straddled him. He doubted she was too comfortable with the steering wheel digging into her back, but she didn’t seem to notice. She kissed her way to one nipple and sucked and he thought he would die.

“Fuck. I want to do that to you.”

She lifted her head briefly, her mouth moist and glistening. Her smile was sly and suggestive. “I bet you do, but not as much as I want to suck your cock.”

“Oh God.” He shifted her position so she derived the full benefit of his hard-on pressing against her crotch. “I bet your pussy is as swollen and wet as I am hard.”

“I bet you’re right.”

“We should do something about this. Screw what anyone else thinks. They don’t need to know. Just between us.”

Her mouth opened and formed a perfect “O.” That mouth would look beautiful surrounding his dick. To hell with right and wrong. How could anything that felt this fucking good be wrong? She lifted her head and searched his gaze, looking for something. She wasn’t backing out of this now.

His turn.

He pushed her backward slightly and unbuttoned the single button on her pants and slid down the zipper. She didn’t make a move to stop him, and he didn’t want to stop. Spreading open her fly, he slid his hand under her panties and immediately found the wet heat between her legs. Her pussy was primed for him, and she arched against his hand, begging for more.

He wanted to give her more as he dipped a finger inside her. She gripped his shoulders and leaned against the steering wheel, head thrown back, body shaking.

The entire car was illuminated with a bright light. At first, his muddled brain didn’t register what it was, a second later he knew. So did Marina. A car with its high beams on had pulled into the parking lot to use the bank machine.

Marina scrambled across the console and fumbled with her zipper, leaving his arms empty and his heart bereft. He rolled his head against the headrest and groaned. His body sang when she was in his arms, and it grieved when she wasn’t. The emotions he’d suppressed for so long threatened to overwhelm him, and he fought them with great effort.

“I— I—” He fought for the appropriate words.

“Don’t say it. Forget it happened. We were caught up in the moment.”

“I truly am sorry.”

She nodded. “I know. Let’s not mention this again. It didn’t happen. I’m starving. Let’s get something to eat, and you’re buying.”

“OK.” He pulled onto the street. They were silent for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts. Her next words surprised him.

“To be honest, your father scares me,” she said with a slight giggle.

“He scares me, too, at times. He has that effect on most people, but you hid it well. He likes to intimidate, and you didn’t give him the pleasure.”

“You don’t think he saw through me?”

“Hell, no, he’s not that perceptive.” Drew scoffed and turned into a small lot beside an older building. “Is pizza OK?”

“I love pizza.”

“Good. This place is a hidden gem. Best pizza in Seattle, and we should have it to ourselves this late at night.”

She glanced at her watch. It was almost eleven. “When do they close?”

“About one a.m. They have a booming takeout business.” He led her inside the narrow dining area with about a half-dozen tables. The hardwood floor was original and creaked under their feet. The ceilings were high, and one wall was ancient brick.

“Drew, my man! Welcome!” A bald, middle-aged man as wide as he was tall hustled out of the kitchen and wiped his hands on his apron. He shook Drew’s hand and turned to Marina.

“Sal, this is Marina.”

“Welcome. Any friend of Drew’s is always welcome here.” He bowed low and Marina laughed.

“Well, thank you.”

“Have a seat anywhere. I’ll send Becca out with menus and water.”

Drew led Marina to a back table for two, and they sat opposite each other. The room was dimly lit, and a candle flickered on each table.

“What do you like on your pizza?” he asked, hoping she wasn’t one of those women who liked white sauce and chicken on her pizza. He was purist. He liked real pizza.

She smiled at him with those gorgeous brown eyes. “I love a pizza with everything on it.”

“Everything? All the meat and all the toppings?”

She nodded. “I do prefer thin crust.”

“I’m good with that.” He’d hit the jackpot. A woman who preferred her pizza with all the meat. A man couldn’t get much luckier than that. Becca appeared and took their drink and pizza order, returning in a few minutes with the drinks.

“How did you find this place?”

“I spend time helping a friend out whose business is down the street. We come here a lot. Neither of us are much for cooking.”

“What do you help him with?”

“I’m really good at IT. I have a BA in Information Technology, a little-known fact about me. My dad prefers I keep my nerdiness a secret.” He chuckled but was unable to prevent the bitterness from creeping into his tone.

“I see.” Marina sipped her wine and watched him over the rim of her wineglass. Drew saw the questions in her eyes, yet she didn’t ask a one.

“You’re wondering about my dad.”

“I am?” She seemed surprised.

“Aren’t you? Everyone does. He puts on this façade of this great guy, but beneath it he’s a drunken asshole at times.”

“That’s pretty harsh to say about your father.”

Drew shrugged and took a long pull of his beer. “Yeah, probably. He didn’t used to be like this, but he’s turned into a hard man to please. Actually, impossible. He’ll never be satisfied. After Dave died, everything changed. It’s like he has to hold on tightly to what he has left, and he’s strangling me.”

“Drew, I’m sure he’s struggling. He wants the best for you and doesn’t know how to express it.”

“I’m sure that’s partially true. He has no one else but me to focus his attention and large ego on.”

Marina stared down at her hands, suddenly quiet. He’d hit a nerve and wasn’t sure why. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, but I remember hearing when your brother died. It was around the time my parents died before the Games.”

“I’m sorry about your parents.” His words were inadequate.

“I wonder how differently my life would’ve been if they’d been around to guide me. I hear stories like yours, and I think I would take your dad rather than no dad.”

Drew hung his head in shame. He still had his parents. She had no one. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine. Losing my brother was a big enough blow.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. Just stating the truth.” She reached across the table and placed her hand on top of his. The warmth spread through him, heating up more than his hand, maybe even thawing his heart, which had been in the deep freeze way too long.

“I was insensitive and callous.” He wrapped his fingers around her hand and squeezed. He should’ve let go, but he didn’t, and she didn’t try to pull away. Her hand felt so good in his. So right. In fact, the first right thing in his life for a long time. He vowed to have more fake dates with her.

“Drew, you can’t tiptoe around the subject of parents with someone who has none. That’s not fair to you, either. You have legitimate issues with your father. You have to set boundaries but it’s hard when you never have.”

“You’re right about that.”

“What happened that night your brother died, if you don’t mind me asking. The details are sketchy. A drive-by shooting or something?”

“More like or something, but that’s part of the story few people know except the detectives and my parents. It’s hard for me to talk about it.” He tightened his grip on her hand, but she didn’t protest.

“You can tell me if you like. I’m a good listener, and whatever you say is safe with me.”

He believed her. Even stranger, he wanted to tell her. He’d told few people the complete story, but he wanted to tell someone he barely knew. Only he felt as if he knew her.

“Dave was twenty-one. Playing his rookie year for the Rangers. I’d just turned eighteen and was spending a long weekend with him to celebrate and go to a game. I got into an argument with a guy who cut us off in the parking lot of a convenience store. Dave pulled me away from him and into the store. When we came out, he was waiting for us with a gun pointed at me. Just as he pulled the trigger, Dave jumped in front of him. My brother took the bullet meant for me in an altercation over nothing but a parking spot.”

“I’m so sorry.” Now she was squeezing his hand and leaning toward him. Her touch gave him the courage to continue.

“Dave fell to the ground, and it took me a few seconds to register what happened. I guess I was in shock. I tried to stop the bleeding, but his blood quickly covered my fingers, my hands. It was fucking everywhere. I’ll never forget how it felt, all warm and sticky. And the smell of iron in the air.” Drew paused and rubbed his hands over his face, trying to compose himself. She held on tighter, and he found the words to continue on.

“Dave tried to talk. I could barely hear him because every word was an effort.”

Her beautiful face was filled with sympathy and sadness. He swallowed hard and bit his lip, hoping the pain would prevent the tears from falling.

“What did he say?”

“No one, except Mom and Dad know about his last words. He said, ‘It’s up to you now to win the Cup.’” He lowered his chin to his chest and pressed his eyes shut. He would not cry. He would not. Marina clasped his hand and said nothing. He appreciated her not filling the empty space with empty words like most people would.

“Oh, Drew.” She stroked his palm with her fingers. The motion was calming, and he leaned into her, closing his eyes and letting her touch soothe the pain of his emotional scars. Regaining control, he met her concerned gaze.

“Thank you,” he said simply. “I’ve never told anyone except the detectives and Mom and Dad. I’m not sure why I chose to tell you.”

“I’m humbled that you did.” She smiled at him, and he managed a weak smile back. “Did they arrest the guy?”

“Nah, he disappeared into the wilds of New York City. They had a name, but they could never find him.”

“That’s awful. The least you could hope for is justice.”

“My parents blame me. I’ve spent the past eight years trying to make up for it. Only I can’t. I never can.”

“You didn’t pull your brother in front of you. He made that choice.”

“But I started the entire thing over a fucking parking spot.”

“We’ve all done dumber things, and usually they don’t end in tragedy. You had no idea it would escalate like it did.”

“Yeah.” The gentle sweet sound of her voice soothed his soul in a way no one else ever had.

“Drew, you have to follow your own dreams. Not theirs. Not your brother’s. But yours.”

He nodded slowly, knowing she saw the haunted look in his eyes. “That bullet was meant for me. He should be living my life, playing in the playoffs, partying with the guys. Instead, I’m the one doing all those things and not enjoying a moment of my own life.”

She reached for his other hand, her face mere inches from his. He wanted to kiss her from across the table. Kissing her would make the pain go away, even if only for a short while. Kissing her would be like heaven, even if a relationship with her could descend into hell once the team, the press, and his parents snatched up the story.

“Can we talk about something else?” He leaned back and extracted his hands from her grasp, running one hand through his unruly hair.

“Sure.” Hurt flashed across her face, as if he’d emotionally slapped her. Before he could apologize and explain himself, their pizza arrived. Drew waited impatiently while the waitress deposited plates, pizza, utensils, and napkins in front of them.

When she was finally out of earshot, Drew turned his attention to Marina, who was lifting a slice of gooey, messy pizza onto her plate.

“I’m sorry. It’s just—touching you—it does something to me. Something good. Something scary.”

She regarded him through lowered lashes. “Let’s enjoy our pizza.”

Marina was as good at avoiding an issue as he was. She’d run off to Europe four years ago rather than face the hostile press and fans. He was constantly running from his brother’s ghost and himself.

“OK,” he said with a wry smile. He’d let it go for now, but he’d revealed his deepest pain to her, and she’d said little about herself. Did that make him the weaker of the two or the stronger?

 

* * * *

 

Marina put her hand on the car door, opened it, and put one foot on the ground, but Drew’s words stopped her. It’d been an emotional night for both of them, bringing them closer together while emphasizing the futility of such closeness. Definitely, bittersweet, yet she wouldn’t take it back for anything.

“Thank you for being there for me tonight. I feel better. I needed that.”

She smiled and twisted at the waist to look over her shoulder. “You’re welcome.” For her own self-preservation, she had to get away before she did something stupid and kissed away the pain lingering on his handsome face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night.” His face fell, as if he were expecting an invitation inside or something. They’d done too much tonight in the car, no less. She’d be all kinds of a fool to invite him in, even though his revelations over pizza brought them closer than was safe, and the sexual chemistry sizzling between them demolished her ability to keep a distance.

Before she changed her mind and did something stupid, Marina said good night, jumped from the car, and sprinted up the steps to her second-floor apartment, not giving him the opportunity to protest or follow her. She needed to get away, clear her head, find a way to combat this thing between them.

She shut the door and locked it, then peered between the blinds to watch him pull out of the parking area and onto the street.

She’d been a coward to run, but avoiding alone time with him was the smart thing to do, even if she’d been anything but smart earlier in the night. Common sense battled with her heart, and resolving her inner conflict while still being exposed to the magnetic pull of this bordered on impossible.

Marina slumped into a chair, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. Her mind refused to be quiet, running through the impossibilities of a relationship with Drew, warning of impending disaster, like a car on a steep grade with no brakes, each corner more dangerous and difficult than the one before it.

Desperate for a distraction, she sprang to her feet, walked across the room, and turned on her laptop. She hadn’t checked the internet since she’d started this job, not wanting to see all the negative press regarding the Sockeyes hiring of her. She’d check Facebook, see what old friends were doing. Only she didn’t. Before she knew it, she was Googling David Delacorte shooting. There were tons of articles, and she read several. There were pictures of the crime scene, images of Drew and his parents huddled together, heartbroken and bereft. Her heart went out to all three, despite how they felt about her. She would never wish that kind of grief on anyone. No wonder Drew’s dad held on so tightly to his only remaining son.

She had more in common with Drew than he realized. Three lives gone in an instant, through no fault of their own. Her parents had been killed by a wrong-way, drunk driver, who only served a year in jail for killing two people.

She tried to put herself in Drew’s father’s shoes. He wasn’t a bad man, just a misguided one. In the images, she read the devastation on his face as clear as she could read a theater marquee.

Dealing with Drew’s family would be the ultimate test. Considering the way they inserted themselves into his life, she doubted she’d be able to avoid them as long as she was with the Sockeyes or skating in some capacity.

She had goals, lofty goals, but achievable, starting with resurrecting her reputation by earning people’s trust and respect. It’d be a long haul, but she would do it. She’d started on the right track with the Sockeyes organization. Now if she could only stay there and away from their struggling winger. Easier said than done. The sparks between the two of them would light up a small city. The things Drew did to her insides…she hadn’t felt that since she’d had a teenage crush on her teacher so many years ago. She hadn’t done much dating over the years. Skating always took precedence. In Europe, she’d had a few affairs. No sparks. No butterflies. No sunset dinners. Just sex. Nothing like Drew did to her with a simple smile.

Most likely her inexperience with love was why Drew affected her more than most. She was merely feeling a normal attraction to a handsome male. Nothing more. Only she was doing a piss-poor job of convincing herself. She wanted Drew’s mouth on her, his hands touching her, and ultimately him burying himself deep inside her.

And that was going to be a problem. A big problem.

She had to be strong. She had to maintain her professionalism despite the raging desire between them. She had to be the woman her parents had raised her to be.

Times like these she missed her mother and father. Sure, she had a few close friends, like Kaley, but none of them made up for the loss of her parents. If she’d told her mother about her problem with Drew, she’d have sympathized and offered sage advice. Her dad would have threatened to hunt him down with a shotgun. The thought made her smile—for a second.

Only they weren’t here. They couldn’t help her. They were gone. Other than a few distant relatives, she had no one.

Except for crotchety Aunt Mina, she was alone. She’d been alone for eight years. And she’d be alone into the unforeseeable future. She’d gotten a hefty sum of money from her parents’ life insurance, but she’d used every cent to finance her quest for another medal. It was all gone. Living in Europe and instructing children had barely paid the bills. It’d been time to come back. She’d missed the United States, and she couldn’t hide forever. She wanted her future back, and sleeping with Drew was not the way to get ahead.

Her dream was training up-and-coming skaters, steering them toward making better decisions than she had. She’d blown her entire future on one night of stupidity.

Ethan had given her a shot.

She loved coaching the guys, and a permanent position with the Sockeyes would be an enormous step forward. She’d gain legitimacy if she could pull this off, and she couldn’t be stupid and have an affair with a player. She’d made too many stupid mistakes already. People were waiting for her to screw up, expecting it, but she’d prove them wrong. She was stronger than she’d been in the past.

Drew, despite their blind lust and sizzling chemistry, could not come between her and her future.