Maxim (Carolina Reapers 10)

Usually I was down with privacy. Tabloids were a pain in the ass and never got the facts straight. But I wasn’t about to hide Evie away like she was some dirty little secret. I understood that she’d never been comfortable with putting her life on public display the way mine was, but I also wasn’t going to deny what was happening between us if someone asked. That was a dick move, and I was doing my best not to be a dick.

Maxim: I’m glad you’re having fun.

I really was. She’d been too shut in since Mila left, and it was fantastic that she was expanding her social circle to friends who weren’t connected to Mila…or me. Yes, I loved that she fit in with the Reapers and always had, but I didn’t have the best track record with relationships, which put her relationship with Mila and the Reapers at risk if I fucked this up.

So don’t fuck it up.

Evie: I’d have more fun if you were here.

A smile turned up the corners of my mouth.

“You lost tonight.” The familiar, accented voice made my dinner curdle in my stomach as Dad took the empty stool next to mine and held up his hand to the bartender. “It’s April, Maxim. Playoffs are set to begin in one month, and you can’t afford to be losing.”

“That’s Sterling’s seat,” I said, flipping my phone so the screen was down. “He’s going to be back from the bathroom at any second.”

“Well, it’s empty now.” His jaw clenched, and I took a long drink of the ice water I’d ordered, hoping it would dislodge the tension that had launched into my throat. “And since when are you close with Sterling, anyway? Every time I see you, he’s hovering.”

“We’ve been on the same team for the last two seasons, Dad. We were bound to get close.” I dragged my thumb through the condensation that had gathered on my glass.

“Where’s Caspian? He always kept you on your toes, kept you from making stupid mistakes like you did in the second period.” He snapped his fingers at the bartender and ordered a scotch.

Fuck, I hated when he did that, acted like everyone around him was miles beneath him, like we should all kiss his feet for being allowed to breathe the same air. “Caz traded in the off-season, remember?”

“Right.” He shook his head and didn’t bother to thank the bartender as his drink was put in front of him, so I did. “I can’t believe he left the Reapers to follow some girl.”

“A girl he’s in love with.”

“You guys are headed to the finals this year. Caspian is an idiot.”

“Caspian is happy.” I shrugged.

Dad grunted and started in on his drink. “You lost tonight.”

“You’ve already said that.” I managed a wave as Axel walked by with Sawyer and Brogan. My phone buzzed, but I didn’t pick it up.

“You played like you were distracted all game.” He turned to face me, his eyes narrowing under his heavy brow as he glanced down at my phone. “But letting that defenseman past you in the second was an unforgivable mistake that led to a goal that changed the game’s momentum. This loss is on you, Maxim.”

“I wasn’t distracted,” I argued, seeing Sterling approach from the corner of my eye. Fuck, I wished Dad would just go home and watch the games on TV like he had for most my life. As if the season wasn’t enough, the weight of the additional pressure from Dad was enough to buckle my shoulders.

“You were. You missed that rebound like you didn’t even know where the puck was while he danced right by you.” He snatched my phone from the bar, and I cursed. He’d always had lightning fast hands. It was one of the things that had made him such a spectacular goalie.

“Give it back.” I held out my hand, careful to keep my voice level, to keep from drawing attention. Getting pissed off and grabbing it back might be satisfying in the moment, but I wasn’t the one who would pay the price for my actions.

“You have a woman, don’t you?” he accused. “That’s what has you so unfocused. I thought we talked about this in the off-season. I thought we agreed that you’d focus on the game and only the game this year.”

“Give. It. Back.” My tone changed and he noticed, arching a sardonic brow at me.

“My, my. Feeling sensitive are we?” He flipped the phone over and stared down at the preview of Evie’s text that showed on the lock screen.

Evie: Headed home. I’ll text when I get there.

Dad ignored my open hand and put the phone on the bar. “Why the hell would you care if Evie gets home?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Exposing what Evie meant to me, or even hinting at it would only put her in his crosshairs.