Like a fantasy.
“She obviously isn’t into getting serious,” Donovan went on, relentless. That trait made him amazing on the ice. But right now, Beckett wasn’t loving it. “If you hook up with her a few more times, this infatuation will probably evaporate. It always does.”
He looked up. “Aren’t you going with the guys?”
“I’ll catch up. I wanted to talk with you a minute. Lily’s awesome and amazing, and I love what she’s done for you as a person. But she also put your life into a tailspin. You have so much responsibility on your shoulders this year. I think it’s important for you to have an outlet for the stress and frustration. If Eden’s not going to make the next move and you’re not going to take a bold step, maybe it’s time to look for another hookup.”
Beckett slipped on his blazer and thought about the women he’d slept with over the years. He could honestly say no one had ever made him want to see them again the way Eden did.
He grinned, closed his locker, and hefted his duffel to his shoulder. “To be perfectly honest, if I’m not going to be seeing Eden, there’s no place I’d rather be than lying on my bed in the hotel room, decorating igloos and dressing penguins with Lily.” He slapped Donovan’s shoulder and turned him toward the door. “But thanks for caring, dude.”
12
Eden brushed out her wet hair while avoiding Tori’s eyes in the reflection of the mirror in the ambulance company’s sleeping quarters. Her friend had come in early for her shift, then cornered Eden in the girls-only space to pin her down about a subject Eden had been dodging all week.
“You didn’t return any of his texts?” Tori asked, her brow furrowed in frustration. “I swear you take one step forward and two steps back.”
Eden tossed the brush into her duffel and ran her fingers through her hair, shaking it out. “How is that two steps back?” she grumbled. “I dipped my toes back into the ocean. That doesn’t mean I want to start swimming with sharks.”
Tori stabbed a finger at her. “That’s exactly the problem.”
Eden lifted her arms out to the sides. “What is exactly the problem?”
“You still see men as sharks.”
She rolled her eyes. “It was a—”
“Freudian slip.”
“Metaphor,” Eden corrected, turning away from her friend and throwing her uniform into the bag. She hated this topic. It brought up a lot of problems she thought she’d dealt with—until now. Until Beckett.
“You stereotype, and you know it. If Beckett were a contractor, would you see him again? Or a mechanic? Or a fireman? Or a doctor?”
Eden made a face. She couldn’t see Beckett as any of those things. “I don’t know.” Frustration frazzled her already frayed nerves. “Maybe.”
“You’re stereotyping him, and you know it—Beckett’s a hockey player; therefore, he’s violent.”
She turned on Tori, ready to come out of her skin. “I looked into it, okay? I didn’t scratch the guy off my list without any thought.”
“Ha, your list. That’s a good one. I’ve seen you in action. I’ve seen you go toe to toe with gangbangers, cops; hell, I’ve seen you tell doctors to get their heads out of their asses. You are not going to get me to believe you’re scared of one damned hockey player.”
“I work with those people. I’m not involved with them.”
“For an extremely levelheaded, rational woman, you’re not making any sense.”
Angry now, she turned on Tori. “Hockey is second only to football in its level of violence, and there is a forty percent increase in domestic violence among pro football players. Why, why, why would I put myself at a higher risk after what I’ve been through?”
Tori tossed her hands in the air. “You must be putting all those brains of yours into your paramedic program, because you sure didn’t research that information very well.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I did a little research of my own, because I care about you and because I sure don’t want to encourage you into a bad situation. And I found that the NHL is embracing a new policy on domestic abuse, which includes required training for all members. They take it very seriously.”
“After watching a dozen of Beckett’s previous games over the last week, that policy won’t make it any easier to sleep at night.” Eden massaged her forehead. “I’ve seen the way he plays. I’ve seen his hits, his fights. I’ve seen how aggressive, how physical, how violent he is. I don’t care what the statistics say. I’ve seen the raw anger on his face when the cameras focus in on him. He’s intense, and it fuckin’ scares me sometimes, okay?”
“You know what, Eden, you fuckin’ scare me sometimes.”
“What?” She threw her arms out to the sides. “What the hell are you talking about?”