Hawke (Cold Fury Hockey, #5)(16)

I watch the drills continue out on the ice, wondering if Coach is going to put me back in today. We’ve been out here almost two hours already, so it’s unlikely.

And yeah, this shit with Dave has me a bit wigged out, but that’s not the only thing that’s got my jockstrap in a twist.

In fact, probably not even the greatest thing.

No, that’s reserved for one Vale Campbell, and I can’t even begin to list all the ways in which she’s bothering me.

But I’ll give it a try, because there’s nothing else to do at this moment but ruminate on all the ways she’s tying my stomach in knots once again.

First, the long-standing grudge I’m carrying over the way in which she cut me out of her life. That sort of speaks for itself.

Second, the fact that even after all this time and all the bitter feelings, I still f*cking feel something for her. I’m not sure if it’s an unrelenting longing for what we had, or the fact that I feel terribly sorry for what she’s going through right now. Hell…it’s probably because she’s still the hottest goddamn woman I’ve ever known despite how much she’s changed over the years, but it’s irking the hell out of me that I’m affected like this.

Third, the fact that she’s apparently got a boyfriend. That was clear last night when she answered the phone with a “Hi, honey,” all sweet and breathless sounding. No clue who the f*cker was on the other line, but I wanted to pound him senseless, and feeling that way also irritates me.

Finally, and this is by far the most important thing that has my mind all tripped up, is that she started to say something—implied, really—that perhaps there had been an opportunity for us to reconnect years ago. It was subtle, and her words were cut off when her phone rang, but she clearly said, “Maybe you should have asked why back when…”

Asked what, Vale?

What? Why? What? Why?

All these f*cking questions are driving me bonkers.

I left after she answered the phone, promising Dave I’d come back and see him in a few days. That’s one thing I’m not going to let go of, my renewed friendship with him. Not when he’s going through…

Christ, it hurts to even think about it.

Hurts to think about the way Vale must be suffering and terrified for her father.

One thing I know for sure is that she’s back in my life even if only by way of us working together, but now Dave is back in my life too, and I need to figure out a way to live with all this shit that’s been stirred up.

More important, my anger and hurt over what she did all those years ago need to take a backseat right now. I don’t need to make this any more stressful for Vale, with what she’s already carrying on her shoulders. And besides, why do I really need the answers anyway? That’s over and done with and I’ve moved on.

She’s clearly moved on.

Sudden resolve surges within me and I push up off the bench. Bruce Duvall is the only athletic trainer out here on the ice during this practice session, as there’s usually one nearby at all times in case someone gets injured. I assume Goose and Vale are in the training or therapy rooms.

Bruce looks at me as I swing my legs over the boards and drop down onto the ice. As I skate by him, I say, “Knee’s feeling a little sore; going to get it iced.”

He hardly spares me a glance but gives a quick nod before his gaze slides back over to watch the drills in session. I skate across the empty half of the rink to the far side where the door to the underbelly of the arena is, slapping on my skate guards and heading back toward the locker rooms.

Confident that practice will be over soon, I go ahead and strip down out of my equipment, tossing the various items in the large canvas bins on wheels set along one wall. The equipment staff will handle the cleaning and laundering of everything. I put on a dry T-shirt and workout shorts, slip on a pair of athletic slides, and then make my way over to the training rooms.

There are three rooms devoted to the athletic training department. The treatment room where Vale taped my knee, the therapy room that holds ice baths, TENS units, and other modalities, and then the workout room where the athletes can work on strength and conditioning. All three rooms are side by side with glass walls facing the interior of the locker room, and are connected room to room by doorways. I imagine Vale gets an eyeful if she is so inclined after practices and games, as some of the guys walk around naked and let their junk hang loose. But she’s a professional and so are we, so I suppose it comes with the territory.

As long as none of the guys willfully wave their dicks in her face, it’s all good.

I can see Vale in the treatment room, which has a row of five padded tables along one wall, an adjacent wall holding a long counter with cabinets above and below that hold supplies. The far wall houses Bruce’s and Goose’s offices with a small supply closet separating them. I don’t see Goose in there so I have no clue where he is, but it’s even better that we’re alone.

I have some things to say.

I walk in, watching as Vale rips tape off a box and starts unloading packages of Steri-Strips from it. She doesn’t hear me walk in and I don’t want to startle her, so I rap lightly on the door jamb.

She still gives a little jump and turns to face me with a smile on her face. It pains me when it slides right off as she recognizes me, and cool politeness takes over.

“Hey,” I say as I walk her way. “Knee’s a little sore. Thought you could take a look at it.”