She blinked up at me as if realizing for the first time that this wasn’t going to be as easy as she first thought. “Yes, but not exactly. I figured the numbers would dazzle you.”
“There’s nothing in that envelope that interests me.”
I left her sputtering, and walked away.
I ruffled the hair on Viktor’s head as we made it to the parking lot the next day. He waved and ran off to his mother, and I waved once he reached her.
“He’s a good kid. They all are,” I said to Langley as we made our way to the car. She’d just spent the last two hours watching me teach my clinic for the youth, alternating between working on her laptop and making calls in the stands.
I’d already pulled a preseason practice with my own team this morning, listening to my coach give every reason under the sun to sign another contract and give up the free-agent gig. Seemed like everyone wanted me to sign something lately.
“You do wonderful work with those kids,” she admitted.
“It’s one of the reasons I’m happy here.” I threw my gear in the back of the car, then got behind the wheel as Langley took the passenger seat.
“I did some research,” she admitted as we pulled onto the road, headed for home.
“And what did it tell you?”
“That you turned down a ten-million-dollar contract ten years ago.” She had the advantage, looking straight at me while I kept my eyes on the road.
“By research you mean you talked to Lukas.” I glanced her way long enough to see her cheeks tinge pink.
“He said you turned it down because you were raising your little brother, Tage.” She let that hang between us, leaving it up to me to confirm or deny.
The freedom was why I chose to tell her.
“Our parents died in a car accident when I was sixteen, and we lived with my grandmother, but basically I was responsible for Tage. Two years later, Grandmother died, too, and it was just the two of us—Tage and me. Couldn’t exactly raise an eight-year-old and play in the NHL. That wasn’t what our parents wanted for him or what he needed.” My hands gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white.
Looking back, it was the only decision I could have made, but living through it had felt like ripping my soul in two. The life I wanted and the life I was meant to have simply weren’t the same.
“But he’s grown now, right?” she asked gently.
“Eighteen and on his own SHL team up north,” I agreed.
“Then come play for the Reapers. I don’t need to tell you how good you are, or how badly we need you at center.”
“That’s because McPherson and the Billionaire built a team around exceptional players, but forgot they needed a lynchpin.” I threw her a glance. “I read the news, Langley.”
“So come be our lynchpin,” she pled.
“You know why they sent you, right? You, Langley, a publicist. Not an owner, a coach, or an agent.” I questioned, turning onto the road that led to Lukas’. The sun glinted off the Gulf of Bothnia, making the water shine.
“Because they know you like me,” she admitted in a whisper. “You wouldn’t speak to anyone else.”
“Because I want you. How could you let them use you like that?”
She looked away, her hands fisting in her lap. “Because I want to keep my job. If getting you to sign that contract means I keep my job, then fine. I’ll fly to Sweden.”
“And those are the only circumstances I can be alone with you? You’d only be sitting here with me if your job was on the line?” Ire dripped into my tone, and I shook my head.
“No,” she whispered. “Fine, yes. You’re…” She sighed.
“I’m what?” I challenged.
“You’re too much...everything. Too big. Too fast. Too hot.” She shook her finger in my direction. “Don’t even play that you don’t know you’re gorgeous.”
“I figured you were immune to looks after working with the Sharks and now the Reapers.” She’d left the Seattle team and the Seattle fiancé.
“It’s impossible to be immune to someone your size, Axel. You take up all the air in the car.” She folded her arms across her chest, and I almost laughed at how annoyed she looked.
“How are things going with the ex-fiancé?” I prodded.
She slowly turned her head to glare at me, and I thanked God that we were minutes away from Lukas’, because she might really kill me. “He is not up for discussion.”
“Then neither is that contract.”
“I’m sorry? That’s personal!” she snapped.
“And you asking me to uproot my entire life to move to the United States isn’t?”
Her teeth clicked as she closed her mouth.
As much as she loved her job, it wasn’t helping her heal. She’d been here a year ago when that asshole made her choose between her job or his love, and she’d rightfully chosen herself. Except she hadn’t really followed through.
She was thinner, paler, and unhappy. The light in her eyes had dimmed, and even her small snaps of temper lacked the fire she’d had last year. She needed someone to push her out of her little workplace comfort zone.
“Sign the contract, Axel, and let me go home.”
“No.” Because neither of those options appealed to me, and they wouldn’t help her, either.
I walked in from practice the next day to find Langley in downward facing dog. Aka, here’s my ass, isn’t it lovely?
She had a truly amazing ass. Hell, everything on the woman was perfect from her head to her toes. What could have possibly been so great about her ex’s job that he was willing to lose her for it? Careers came and went. The love of a woman like Langley? That’s the shit you held onto at night when you were both old and crinkle-eyed.
“You’re home!” She popped up to stand, her ponytail swishing behind her.
“I am,” I admitted, then stalked to Lukas’ ultra-modern kitchen for the coldest bottle of water I could find. I was mid-chug when she walked in, braced her hands on the counter and then jumped so she sat on the hard granite surface.
Her sports bra did the impossible, lifting and curving around her breasts. Weren’t those things supposed to flatten her out and keep my dick limp?
Not a limp dick in sight, that was for sure.
She stretched, drawing my eyes to the toned muscles of her stomach, gently lined, but not overly muscular. Langley was soft in every place that screamed to be touched.
I needed to keep my damned hands to myself.
“So are you dating yet?” I asked, coming to stand next to her.
She raised a flirtatious eyebrow. “You know that could be seen as sexual harassment.”
“What you’re wearing is sexual harassment,” I muttered.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she ended up rolling them. “No, I’m not dating. Not going to date. Ever. The only person I’m dating is myself, because then if I let myself down, I’ll know exactly who to blame.”
Our eyes locked, sending my pulse skittering faster than any blue line drills could have.
“You think that sounds stupid, don’t you?” she asked, her brown eyes so close I could make out the flecks of gold in them.