Page 83 of The Big Puck

I give the guys a minute to get out of their sweaty jerseys and I’m about to go in for my official and unofficial congratulations speech, when Jason steps back outside. He’s not wearing his usual happy-go-lucky expression. Shit.

“What’s up Jason. I was just about to come in—”

“What the fuck was Lainey doing here, Coach?”

Fuck.

“She came to take Tina’s place, to take photos for social media.”

He stares me down, giving me a hard murderous look and I stay silent and still, unwilling to lie, but unwilling to share what’s personal between Lainey and I. There’s no way in hell I’m going to voluntarily tell Jason that I spent the night with his sister in my hotel room.

“You sure she didn’t come here to see you?”

“You would have to ask her that.” I wait only one more beat and use the Coach card to shut this dangerous conversation down. “Let’s get inside the locker room, Jason. I want to talk to the team.”

Reluctantly, he complies.

But I know I’m not going to be able to avoid his questions forever. And I have no idea what to give him for an answer.

Chapter 31

LAINEY

There was no way I was staying for tonight’s game. The last flight out of Buffalo left well before the end of the final buzzer, so as soon as I left the rink after snapping shots of Spence and Kap, I arranged a flight, packed up and got out of town. Spence and the team were taking a charter flight to Montreal for their game tomorrow night. So I had time to figure out what to do.

As soon as I got home—or to Spence’s home—shit—I sat in the kitchen with frozen cookie dough batter and my head in my hands.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Aunt Hildie’s calm kind voice encourages me to lift my head and show her my face. To her credit, she doesn’t flinch at my tear swollen eyes, but she limps over and sits next to me, taking my hands.

“Spence asked me to move out.” I don’t allow myself to cry another tear. It’s temporary. I can hold on. It’s nothing like his situation with Shonda.

“Whatever happened, you know he didn’t mean it, dear. Besides, what will Krissy and I do without you?”

“You’ll have to find out at some point.”

“Will we? I don’t think so.”

I laugh, not feeling it, but what else can I do?

“What if all we have is that one time?” I whisper the question, allowing my fear a voice—just for a split second. Aunt Hildie’s compassionate smile doesn’t waver.

“Then what a memory,” she huffs “But you know as well as I do that there will be plenty more where that came from. The attraction between you two is like a force of nature, dear. Neither of you can stop it any more than you could stop water from turning to ice in the winter—or boiling when it’s heated over a fire.” She winks. This time I laugh for real.

I nod because it feels like a force that can’t be ignored to me. But I’m not so sure about him. He’s more experienced than I am. And he has so much baggage.

Fuck baggage. Focusing on only the best moments, I let the memory of being with him obliterate the doubt. “It was so intense—"

Aunt Hildie laughs and covers her ears. “I don’t need to hear the details. But I’m glad for you—for both of you—for taking some joy from life. A person can’t survive on struggle and hardship alone. We need those special moments.”

“It’s true. Very special.” Too special to let go of so easily.

* * *

The next morning I wander around the house with Krissy as my constant companion, and marshaling a brighter outlook built on her baby scent and toothless smile, I decide to send a text to Spence.

I send a good morning photo of Krissy holding a sign that says good luck, daddy. Beat Montreal! I’m noticeably absent, but if that’s what he wants, that’s what I’ll give him for now.

The Whalers lose and Spence sends a text that he’ll be home late. I consider any word from him, no matter how innocuous it is, to be a good sign. The sign of a truce.