Once I hear the front door click shut behind him, I sag against the counter.
It was a whole lot easier to be mad at him when he wasn’t close enough to touch.
I blame the touching.
The touching leads to trouble.
The problem is . . . I think I’d like that kind of trouble.
Easton
Coach Fitzgerald stands from behind his desk at the Revolution arena and offers me his hand. “Glad to have you join the team, Hayes. It’ll be nice to have you in our net for a change.”
“Yes, sir. Thanks, Coach. Glad to be here.”
He motions for me to sit. “I was surprised when your agent called and accepted our offer. You’ve been telling us to pound sand for a few years.” He leans back in his chair and waits as the door to his office opens. “What changed?”
Well . . . Shit.
I should have seen that coming.
Max Kingston walks into the room. The man is certainly the master of his own universe. Even in his forties, he exudes power and strength unmatched by anyone else I’ve ever met. And right now, he’s looking at me like I’m a problem he’d like to eliminate.
“Yeah, Hayes. What changed?” Max leans back against Fitz’s desk with his eyes narrowed on me. Eyes the same color as his sister’s.
I meet Max’s stare head-on. “My reason for staying in Las Vegas changed. It was time to come home.”
Fitz clears his throat, but Max ignores him. “And how long do you plan on staying?”
“His contract—”
“I’m not asking what his contract says,” he interrupts Fitz, his glare never wavering from me.
“As long as my wife wants to stay here, this is where I’ll be. With as close as she is to her family, I don’t think she’ll ever want to leave.” I lean back in my seat and cross my leg. “I’d like to finish my career in Philadelphia, if I can, but that’ll be up to you.”
“Hurt my fucking sister and I’ll make sure you never play another minute of professional hockey again. You won’t be able to tend goal on a fucking development team in some no-name town in Canada when I’m through with you.” His knuckles turn white from his grip on the edge of the desk behind him. “Do we understand each other?”
“I think—” Fitz tries to break the tension, but I refuse to back down because this moment is more important than hockey.
“Loud and clear, Max. But it goes both ways,” I tell him as I stand from my chair. “Pretty sure I’ve already proven I’d die for your sister. How about you let her live her life like the intelligent, independent woman she is, and you try not hurting her? Because I’m pretty sure she’d be hurt if she knew you were assuming she couldn’t stand up for herself.”
Max takes a step forward, looking like he’s ready to swing. “Watch it. I’ve been taking care of Lindy her whole goddamn life, asshole.”
Coach slams his hand down on his desk. “Get out of here, Hayes. Practice is in an hour at the facility in Kroydon Hills. Don’t be late.”
“Coach—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“Go before Max kills you. I don’t need my GM in jail and my goalie out of commission. Jesus Christ.”
“Yes, Coach.” I reach out and shake his hand over his desk, right next to Max, who doesn’t move. “I’m looking forward to playing for you.”
Fitz shakes his head. “Then get the hell out while you still can.”
I nod once and walk out, without looking back.
Not exactly the welcome to the Revolution I was expecting.
Easton
I may have just pissed your brother off.
Lindy
Which one? I have a few.
Easton
The one who kinda owns me now.
Lindy
Max? Oh shit. He never gets mad. What did you do?
Easton
Why do you assume I did something?
Lindy
Well . . . ?
Easton
Okay. Fine. I married you. Apparently that was enough.
Lindy
Told you the family was furious.
Easton
Becks isn’t.
Lindy
He isn’t?
Easton
Nope. He trusts our judgment.
Lindy
Pretty sure he’s the only one.
Easton
Ever thought about standing up for yourself to your family?
Lindy
Ever thought about minding your own business?
Easton
You are my business, wife.
Lindy
Don’t you have practice or something, hockey boy?
Easton
How do you know that?
Lindy
Lucky guess. Good luck.