Anton (Chicago Blaze 1)

Anton opens his door at the same time I open mine. He walks around the car and meets me on the sidewalk.

“You’re not coming in,” I tell him, my eyes wide and my tone firm.

He smiles. “I’m walking you to the door.”

“Oh.”

I fish my keys out of my backpack and unlock the building’s front door.

“Have a good trip,” I tell him.

“Thanks.” He clears his throat to get my attention. “I’m gonna leave this right here.” He sets the Uber card down on the wide concrete railing to the front steps of the building. “And you can either take it, or leave it for someone to find.”

“Anton.” I turn to glare at him, but he’s already down the stairs, pulling his black wool coat closed.

“Mia.” He gives me a warm smile and then walks to his car.

I pick up the gift card and slide it into my pocket, because my grandparents didn’t raise a fool.Chapter EightAntonFor a few seconds, I can’t even look. My teammate Zack Werner is lying motionless on the ice and the trainers are all rushing out there.

Motherfucking John Hanlin. That guy’s a known headhunter. He hits dirty and spends more time in the penalty box than anyone in the league.

“Doesn’t look good,” Luca says under his breath.

Zack’s taken a lot of hard hits in his career. He thought about retiring last year, but couldn’t bring himself to leave the game he loves.

Hanlin’s standing off to the side, running his mouth to a teammate who’s putting a hand out and telling him to shut up. When you just knocked a guy out during a game, it’s a good fucking idea to stay silent, but Hanlin’s a prick.

He’ll get his. One of our defensemen, Nick Price, threw his gloves down right after the hit but backed off when he saw that Zack wasn’t getting up.

Zack stirs a little, and I finally let out the breath I was holding. The trainers help him up and off the ice. Hanlin gets ejected and his own home crowd cheers loudly.

“That fucker’s got it comin’ now,” Vic says to me.

“Fuck yeah he does.”

Our enforcer will handle it, but there’s not a man on this team that wouldn’t like a go with Hanlin right now. Illegally checking an older player who’s had countless concussions is just fucking sick.

“My shoulder was down!” I can hear Hanlin grousing to his coach on the other bench.

The guys on our bench yell back at him, and Hanlin is quickly led back to their locker room.

Our team is fired up after that, and Hanlin’s teammates pay the price for his aggression. We smoke them 6–2.

“You wanna come out for dinner with us, padre?” Knox asks me after the game.

Eh. Not really. I want to go see if there’s any place in Phoenix that can deliver a decent meal to the hotel at this hour. But I hardly ever go out with the guys, and as captain, I should make an appearance sometimes.

“Sure.”

He arches his brows, surprised. “Really?”

“Yep.”

Once our post-game interviews are over and we’re all showered and dressed in suits, seven of us go to a local steakhouse. I’m not thrilled that Adam’s with us. He hits on our waitress and it’s all I can do to stay quiet.

I take out my phone and text Mia.

Me: Hey from Phoenix. How are you? Working tonight?

She writes back soon.

Mia: Yep, but I’m on a break. Did you win?

Me: We did.

Mia: I heard some guys talking in the bar about Zack taking a bad hit. Is he okay?

Me: He’s at the hospital getting evaluated.

Mia: Hope he’s okay.

Me: I’ll let you know when I hear…got plans for Thanksgiving?

Mia: Ha, no! I didn’t even realize it was coming up. I’ve been busy working a lot.

Me: It’s two days away.

Mia: I’ll probably catch up on sleep and go see my grandpa. Are you doing a family thing?

Me: Yeah, I’m having it catered at my place and the family’s meeting there. You’re welcome to come by.

Mia: Thanks.

Luca’s giving me a look from the other side of the table.

“What?” I ask him.

“Who ya texting?”

“My accountant.”

“Is she a hot blond?”

I laugh. “No, he’s a bald guy with a beard.”

Luca shakes his head. “You got my hopes up there for a second. I thought you might be leaving your celibate life.”

I just grunt in response.

“Did you say Anton’s getting laid?” Vic turns to me, grinning.

“No,” I growl. “And Luca’s not either, so don’t give me any shit.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got three kids at home,” Luca says. “What’s your excuse?”

“My uncle is a bigger pain in the ass than any kid.”

I turn back to my phone and see another message from Mia.

Mia: Back to work. Have a good night.

I set my phone on the table, disappointed our short conversation is over.

Our food is delivered and I’m about to dig into my steak when my phone rings. I drop the fork and grab the phone, hoping it’s Mia but not wanting anyone to see my screen.