Blocker (Seattle Sharks 5)

Her eyes widened, softened for just a second before she puckered her forehead. “Nope. I’m giving you up. I refuse to cost you this much. I won’t.”

“You’re not going to cost me anything. We’re going to keep us on lockdown so tight it would take the NSA to figure it out. Just until the end of the season. The plan stays. I can’t walk away from the team and leave them hanging, but I’m sure as fuck not going to lose you.”

She blinked rapidly. “I can’t let you do this. Not for me.”

“Then let me do it for me. I need you, Pepper. And if you walk away, I’ll just go to your dad and tell him anyway. Then it would have been for nothing, and I’ll still come after you. This—what we have—is rare. I know that much.”

“That’s blackmail,” she accused, tears welling in her eyes.

“That’s creative negotiation,” I countered. “Please, Pepper. Don’t get scared. Don’t give up because it’s hard. Please don’t tell me you could walk away when I can’t—that I’m the only one out here in the deep end of the ocean.” We hadn’t labeled us. Hadn’t discussed our future, or where our relationship might fit into that. Maybe I really was the only one invested. Fuck, just the thought of that hurt like a bitch.

“I don’t want to give you up,” she admitted, leaning into my hand. “You’re not the only one in the deep end. I just don’t want to be your regret. I can’t be.”

“I could never regret you.”

I leaned forward and kissed her gently, just a soft brush of our lips.

She sighed and softened against me.

“What do you say, Pepper? You in this with me?” I asked, more than a little nervous to hear her answer.

She wove her fingers deep into my hair and nodded. “I’m in if you are. But stakes just went up, and my dad’s holding the cards.”

I kissed her again and smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve always had a great poker face.”

Chapter 13

Pepper

“You have to tell Dad it was you,” I said the second I’d finished jotting down my stats. It was game number forty-six, and we were up against a solid-as-hell-looking Vancouver. Ivy had asked to sit next to me in the box, and I was throwing sentences at her every chance I got a break.

“Should you even be talking?” Ivy asked, slightly jilted.

“No, I really shouldn’t.” Tracking stats was by no means easy, but I was focused and only spoke when the game wasn’t in play.

“Then why waste your time?”

“You asked to be here with me, Ivy,” I said. “And you’ve been dodging me at the apartment. I needed to talk to you, and you’re here, so I’m making the best of it.”

She huffed. “I can’t tell, Dad. He’s already ruined everything for me.”

My gut twisted. “Did Crosby…”

“No,” she said when I didn’t continue. “But he’s been colder. With good reason, but I mean more to him than his position. I know it.”

I couldn’t comment because a sniper on the opposing team retrieved the puck and soared toward Eric. A crack, one hell of a shot, and a fast block by Eric had the crowd roaring. I jotted down yet another block for Eric, and then the players headed toward the bench for a timeout.

“You need to be careful,” I said, finally looking my sister in the eyes. “I don’t want you to get your heart broken. You know these hockey players,” I said, swallowing the knot in my throat. “The game comes first. Always.”

“Thanks.” She rolled her eyes. “Crosby is bigger than that. He knows it’s not my fault.”

I shook my head. “I have no clue what you see in him.” The only behavior I’d seen from Crosby was obnoxious, self-centered, and all about the score. Any kind of score. Plus, the other guys gave him mad shit in the locker room, and not in the normal we’re bros way, but in the you’re a dick way. That told me enough.

“You don’t know him,” she snapped. “And you think all hockey players are the same. They’re not.”

That much was true.

God, how could I sit here and lecture Ivy on dating a player when I was doing the same thing?

“I’m sorry,” I said, rubbing my brow. “I just want to protect you.”

“Then stop asking me to tell Dad,” she said, her voice softer.

“My career, Ivy. This is my career.”

“And he fired Crosby. Not you. You’re safe.” She sighed. “If he found out it was me?” She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “He’d tear into me. Again. I’m already his biggest disappointment,” she said. “Please, don’t add to it.”

My mouth popped open, tears stinging my eyes. “You’re not a disappointment—”

“Yes, I am. I’m not a math genius. I’m a want-to-be reporter for a gossip magazine. And so far, all I’ve done is deliver coffee, not news.”

“You’ll work your way up,” I said. “You’re a phenomenal writer and have a tenacity like none-other. You will be the most feared reporter in Seattle one of these days.”

A small smile played on her lips. “You believe that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks, sis.”

“Anytime,” I said, returning focus to the game as it started up again.

After a few minutes of play, I got a chance to speak. “You still need to tell Dad.”

“Ugh,” Ivy groaned. “Please, Pepper. Can you just do me a solid and let this die? We’re being more careful now. It won’t happen again.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, my eyes darting from player to player, giving more focus to the ones I needed to track. My brain switched from our conversation to my job, tracking and jotting and keeping tabs.

Ivy remained silent by my side, a weight in the back of my mind.

Eric blocked another shot.

Bentley scored in overtime.

And we ended up winning 2-1.

As the crowds filed out of the stands, and the players skated off the ice toward the locker rooms, I wrapped an arm around Ivy.

“I love you, sister,” I said. “More than anything in this world.”

“Ditto,” she said, leaning into me.

“I can’t take any more heat,” I said, knowing she didn’t have a clue about the heat Eric and I flirted with. Guilt stuck to my insides. I should tell her. I wanted to tell her. But…it wasn’t just my job at risk.

Fuck, we needed to figure things out. And fast.

Crosby had already gotten fired.

What if next time the picture really was me, making moon-eyes at Eric, wrapped in his perfect embrace?

Flashes played on rapid speed in my head—Dad firing Eric the same way he had Crosby, Edward and Marie losing the farm that had been in their family for decades. Eric, angry and regretful, finally realizing I was never worth the hassle brought down on him.

“Pepper?” Ivy nudged me, and I blinked out of the nightmare.

“What’s up?” I asked, noting that the stadium was almost cleared, the gentle hum of the Zamboni filling the space.

“He’s called your name like five times,” she said, motioning over her shoulder.

I turned, expecting to see Eric, but it was Mason who was waving from the landing a few rows up.

“Pepper!” He called, smiling as he waved me over to him. I gave him a one-second-gesture and turned back to Ivy.

“We okay?” I asked.

“Always,” she said and hugged me again.

“And you’ll think about what I said?”

She rolled her eyes but nodded. “You’ll see,” she said. “He’s not like the others.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from challenging that. I was emotionally wrung out, from the picture, the firing, the secrets with Eric, all that was at stake, and then simply doing my dream job. It was all wound up inside me in a tangled mess I wasn’t sure how to unravel.

“Mason’s a player, too, you know,” Ivy said as I headed toward the stairs. “Even if it isn’t NHL status.”

It was my turn to roll my

eyes. “Mason is history.”

“History repeats itself.”

“Not in my life,” I said, shaking my head. “Trust me.” I flashed her a smile and took the steps up, feeling heavier than I had in so damn long.

“Sorry if I broke your rhythm,” Mason said when I’d reached him. “I figured since the game was over you’d be good to talk.”

“I just didn’t hear you,” I said. “Plus, you could’ve come down to me.” I pointed out as we turned into the hallway that led to the locker room.

I needed to go to my office, meet with the rest of the statisticians, and enter the numbers into the computer.

“Right,” he said. “Anyway, you headed to the locker room?”

“Not exactly,” I said. “My office is next to it though, why?”

“Just curious.”

I pinched my brow. “You waited an entire game just to walk me to my office? I’m not buying it.”

He huffed. “Fuck, Pepper. You never let one go, do you.”

I gaped at him. “I don’t have time for games, Mason. What do you want?”

“Ouch,” he said, feigning pain. “What’s got you in a bad mood. Didn’t you see, we won.”

I narrowed my gaze on the way he said we, as if he were already a member of the Sharks’ team.

I came to a halt in front of my office and crossed my arms over my chest. “Well, thanks for walking me,” I said, turning with my hand on the knob.

“Pepper, wait,” Mason said, stopping me by grabbing my elbow.