“But my job—”
“Bullshit. You’ve taken the role of keeping us all safe for way too long. Your job out there is to prevent the opposing team from scoring. Sure, you need to protect us, but you’ve been taking cheap shots like you have to prove something out there.”
“I can’t speak for Aiden, but I have fun on game days. Can you say the same?” Ford chimes in.
“I love my job.” They both quirk their eyebrows at me, so I say, “I guess over the years I’ve enjoyed it less and less.”
“Since we all got close. Since we became—”
“A threesome,” Ford says again.
“I was gonna say friends, but yeah.” Aiden smiles at me.
“I guess.” I shrug.
He’s right though. Once I considered them my true friends, I played more aggressively, ready to protect them no matter the repercussions.
“We’re tough guys too, you know,” Aiden says.
“Well, I do have the prettiest face out of the three of us,” Ford says, beaming. “I’d hate for it to be beat up. The ladies might complain.”
We both groan.
“What? I’m sorry, but you know I’m the pretty one.” He looks at us like we can’t possibly argue.
“Go win Paisley back. She’s good for you,” Aiden says.
“I said a lot I can’t take back,” I tell them.
“That’s what flowers and apologies are made for,” Ford says.
“It’s gonna take a lot more than that.” I sit and think about all the nasty things I said to her. How I lied when I said I didn’t love her. When she said she loved me, all I wanted to do was bury my head in her neck and profess my love right back, but I couldn’t get my feet or my mouth to move. She already thought I was a piece of shit, so why try to change her mind?
“Then do whatever it takes to get her back,” Aiden says. “If you love her like I think you do, then you do whatever you can to win her over again.”
“I’ve got this whole thing with Nadiya and my parents. I don’t want Paisley in the middle of all that.” Which is the truth. She deserves a lot better than a guy who won’t stand up to his parents.
“She’s gonna slip out of your grasp if you wait too long,” Ford says.
“Let’s just watch the game,” I grumble.
Lucky for me, Aiden’s triplet nephews run in and jump on Ford, ending the conversation.
“Hey, you’re messing up my hair,” he yells as they climb all over him, laughing. “Who cuts your nails? Edward Scissorhands? Jeez. I’m gonna need stitches.”
We all laugh, watching them ruin Ford’s country club look.
“Best five dollars I ever spent.” Aiden’s dad comes in, putting his hand out in front of me. “Nice to see you, Maksim.”
“You too.” I shake his hand, swallowing the guilt I feel over failing to protect his son.
Maybe Paisley’s right about one thing. Maybe it is time I live my life for myself.
I walk into Mr. Gerhardt’s office for the last time as someone who works for him.
“I’m leaving now,” I say.
“I can’t convince you to stay?” Mr. Gerhardt rises from his office chair.
“I don’t think I’m meant to work here. If anyone needs me, send them to my main office.”
It was a tough decision, but I signed off on everyone but Maksim. I just can’t in good conscience allow him to skate out of therapy when he might be the one on the team who needs it the most. And that’s saying a lot when his teammate is Ford.
“So… Maksim?” He lowers his chin and looks at me from under his bushy eyebrows.
“Jana told you.” I can’t even be mad at her at this point. I was terrified for the man in front of me to know, and now that he does, it feels very anticlimactic given the circumstances.
He nods. “But only after I questioned her after hearing about you two being the first ones at the hospital together. You could’ve told me. I feel like a fool that I kept setting you up.”
“It’s against the rules for me to be involved with a patient.”
He laughs. “Oh, Paisley, my rule follower. I always knew my daughter picked the best friend. My wild child needs a girl like you to keep her in line. But sometimes rules are meant to be broken. Someone said that once.”
I cringe. “Not when it comes to the ethics of my profession. But I did it anyway. My conscience tells me I never acted as his therapist though, so I guess that makes it a little better.”
He looks over my shoulder, seeming to be thinking, then meets my gaze squarely and huffs. “When I first met Maksim, I wanted him on the Fury. A lot of teams felt the same way. With his size, he could be a big contributor. He was from Russia, and I think people assume Russians can be cold, cutthroat when they need to. Like they don’t bleed or something. But Maksim bleeds, he feels. Doesn’t he?”
Wetness coats my eyes when I think of what Maksim has endured. I nod, wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He comes around his desk, takes me by my upper arms, and pulls me in for a hug, more of a father to me than my own. “That’s why I wanted him. I don’t want some player with no emotion out there on the ice. I wanted a guy who could be part of a team, a good guy for the community. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so hard on him this year, wanting him to straighten himself out. Maybe I pushed too hard.”
I pull back. “I suggested he try therapy with a colleague of mine. Obviously you can do what you want since I didn’t sign off, but it might help.” I can’t say much more than that without feeling as though I’m betraying Maksim’s confidentiality.
He nods as though maybe he’s familiar with Maksim’s story. “I appreciate everything. I know this didn’t work out like we planned, but I think in the end, you coming here might have changed your life for the better.”
I shake my head. “Maksim and I are done. It was nice while it lasted, but we’re over.”
He purses his lips. “Take it from an old man. Nothing is black and white. Always keep your heart open for a second chance.”
“Thanks, Mr. Gerhardt. I better get going.” I want to be out of here before the players come in for practice.
He kisses my cheek. “Come by for dinner soon.”
“I will.”
I leave his office and head to mine to grab the last box—only to find Maksim standing in the middle of the room. My heart betrays me and skips a beat because he looks almost happy.
“Maksim,” I say, grabbing my box.
“Paisley, can I have a word?”
“No, I don’t think so. I have to get going.” I walk out of the office and he follows. “Please just leave me alone.”
“I can’t do that because we never had our ninth date.”
“That’s because we’re not dating anymore. Did you forget we broke up?” I press the elevator button and purposely look away from him.
“Oh, I remember. I’ve been depressed over it for days until I figured out that I don’t want to break up.”
Ugh, anger makes my blood pressure rise. “How nice for you. Should I jump into your arms or let you fuck me in the elevator because you’ve decided you don’t want our relationship to end? Screw you.”