Hard Fall (St. Louis Mavericks 1)

Konstantin wandered into the dining room about ten minutes before we were supposed to leave, grabbing a cup of coffee and a bagel off the buffet, but sitting by himself in the corner of the room. Keegan shot a few looks in his direction but seemed content to stay on his side of the restaurant.

This was my chance to talk with Konstantin. I didn’t know what was going on and if the rumors about Svetlana were true, but I needed to try.

“Hey, man.” I sank into the seat across from him.

He looked up, his face devoid of any emotion. “Good morning.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about last night. It was hard to help with you talking in Russian…” I let my voice trail off, hoping he’d say something.

He nodded but was quiet for a bit. “Is okay. I was angry.”

“If you need to talk, if something’s going on, you can come to me.”

“I ask for trade,” he said abruptly. “I cannot stay.”

“So it’s true.” I cleared my throat and met his gaze directly. “About Keegan and Svetlana?”

His mouth tightened with irritation as he nodded. “Yes. She say she cannot choose. She love both us.”

I grimaced. “I’m sorry, man.”

He mumbled in Russian under his breath.

“Have you talked to Coach about this?”

He shook his head. “Later. For now, I must control temper. Stay cool.”

“I’ll do my best to keep the two of you apart.”

“I am sorry for being difficult. What he says about you, this is not true. You have much respect. Only Keegan does not.”

“I appreciate you saying that. And hold off before you talk to any other teams, okay? I’d rather we traded him, instead of you.”

“Nothing will happen until summer, but my agent knows I wish to leave.”

“Fuck, man, give me a little time to sort things out, okay? Like you said, nothing can happen until the season’s over anyway.”

He hesitated but then nodded. “My agent will look, but I will not sign anything until we talk.”

Sonofabitch. That was the last thing I wanted. I had to talk to Coach sooner rather than later. Losing Konstantin would be devastating to the team. We needed his goaltending talent and his laid-back attitude in the locker room. I had to do something before things went from bad to worse.

Chapter Sixteen

Hadley

My pulse pounded at the sound of the front door being closed, followed by the beeps of the home security system as Wes reset the alarm. He went to the kitchen, probably for a drink of water, and then I heard his feet on the stairs.

Soft thudding noises sounded on Benny’s baby monitor as Wes went into the room to check on him, and then I heard the same in Annalise’s room.

As he made his way into the master bedroom, I regretted my decision to wear nothing but a lacy red bra and panty set to bed. I was exposed, not just physically, but emotionally. If Wes was in a bad mood, which was likely after the way the team had played on the road trip and the tension he’d been dealing with between the players, I couldn’t pretend I’d been sleeping.

This lingerie sent a clear message—I wanted sex. And if he didn’t, I was going to feel rejected.

Wes walked into the bedroom and set his bags down, then walked over to the bed.

“Hey, you awake?” he whispered, sitting down on the edge of the bed and leaning close to get a look at my face.

I had the covers pulled up to my chin, so he wouldn’t be able to see the sex trap I’d tried to set for him just yet.

“Yeah, I’m up. You can turn on the light.”

He switched on the bedside lamp, and I could tell by his expression that he wasn’t in a good mood.

Fuck. Why had I waxed, shaved, moisturized and put on brand-new lingerie? It was possible I could turn his mood from bad to good, but knowing he was cranky made me feel vulnerable, and I didn’t like it.

Wes sighed heavily and said, “I need to be honest with you about something.”

Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. He was about to tell me that he’d slept with another woman on his road trip. I felt it in my bones. And here I was in lingerie. I was mortified.

“Okay,” I said, steeling myself.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but…”

“Wes, it’s fine,” I said crisply. “You don’t owe me anything.”

He furrowed his brow. “I wanted to tell you that living in Ben and Lauren’s house is hard for me.”

Oh. That wasn’t at all what I was expecting.

“It is?”

He nodded, looking both weary and guilty. “I’m trying so fucking hard to hold the team together and deal with all the bad press we’re getting. I’m no Ben, though, and I never will be. I feel the weight of trying to take his place even though it’s impossible. And then I have to come cook on his grill, walk past his study every day…sleep in his bed. I loved Ben, but living here, raising his kids and taking over as captain…it’s making me feel like I’m trying to be Ben. And all I feel is inadequate. I miss my bed. I miss my goddamn couch. And I feel like an asshole for it.”