Page 85 of Tough Call

“This isn’t your fault. We…” I wasn’t sure how to finish that. How to explain that if I hadn’t hurt my knee and believed my NAL dream was out of reach, I might not have let myself get in this deep with Connor.

I especially didn’t know how to explain it because it was a fucking lie.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been the best thing for my career, and maybe I’d have been knowingly putting myself in the position I was in now, but there was no ignoring the hold Connor had on me. There was no pretending I wasn’t drawn to him.

The only thing that had changed was that I hadn’t thought we’d end up here. I’d thought my NAL dream was out the window.

Sitting here now with Connor, the words “I love you” still tingling on my lips from earlier…

I couldn’t convince myself—or him—that I’d have done things differently.

I just had no idea what to do next.

“Why can’t you shoot like that when we’re playing an actual game?” I smacked Mülly’s shinpad as I skated past him. “When we can actually use the point?”

“I do,” he insisted. “But there’s always some masked asshole in the way.”

Connor laughed as he dug the puck out of the net. “So you’re saying if we had a goalie, we’d be up 4-0 instead of 4-1.”

Mülly flipped him off. Connor and Emilia cackled as they high-fived.

Mülly and I continued to fight valiantly, but Emilia was a sniper and Connor—despite being the only one here who wasn’t a professional hockey player—had no trouble holding his own. In under a minute, they’d notched a fifth goal, and that was game.

“First to five.” He and Emilia bumped fists. To us, he said, “You guys were welcome to show up any time.”

Mülly muttered something in German, though he was chuckling. “I thought you were just a ref. Why aren’t you playing hockey?”

Connor laughed and shook his head. “I can hold my own when it’s two-on-two and there’s no netminder. Put me on a team…” He grimaced.

“That’s all right, baby.” I touched the small of his back and bumped my helmet against his. “We’ll let you have this win.”

“Let me?” He scoffed and gave me a shove. “You fought like hell. You just couldn’t beat us.”

“Dick,” I grumbled.

He grinned and winked at me, and damn if my heart didn’t melt all over again. How had I ever not been ridiculously in love with this man?

“All right, let’s take a break,” Mülly said. “Then we’ll see if they can do a repeat performance.”

His wife laughed. “Of course we can. Even if you two show up this time.”

Mülly called her something that I was pretty sure translated to “brat,” and she giggled. While they skated a little to stay loose and Connor went to retrieve the puck from the net, I headed over to the bench for some water.

Grateful for the break, I leaned against the boards. My knee was a little achy today, too. My doctors had told me that might be an issue for a while, so I wasn’t concerned about it, but it was annoying. I’d put some ice on it when I got back to the villa, just to be on the safe side. Maybe even do a light swim in the pool.

I just didn’t want to sit still for too long, because then I’d start thinking. And I didn’t want to think right now. My mind kept going back to the same uncomfortable place, and I wasn’t ready to face any of that. Not now. Not while I was supposed to be enjoying my remaining time with Connor.

I was just putting my water bottle back in the holder when Mülly appeared beside me. He picked up his own water, but he also looked pointedly at me. “What’s going on?”

“What’s—”

“Don’t play stupid.” He waved a gloved hand, then squirted some water in his mouth. “You know what I’m asking.”

I did, yeah. I didn’t want to talk about it, though. I didn’t even want to think about it.

On the other hand, Mülly would understand the bind I was in. Maybe he’d never experienced something like this firsthand, but he knew all about the pressures of professional hockey.

I chewed my lip as I watched Connor skating lazily behind the goal, collecting pucks with Emilia. Without turning to Mülly, I said, “I got a PTO offer. From the NAL.”