Power Play: A Second Chance Hockey Romance (Sinners on the Ice)
Power Play: A Second Chance Hockey Romance: Chapter 15

Now, September

Angie and I are sitting on my backyard patio. She’s in the middle of a call with one of her suppliers, discussing some new menu options. I was doomscrolling through my socials until I fell down a @WINSTON_DA_WEEN rabbit hole. These two dogs are so different yet so much fun to watch. They’re adorable. Since Maya and I accidentally came across one of their videos, I haven’t stopped watching them. She loves them too, especially Willa, so that’s what I tell anyone who sees me looking: it’s all Maya’s doing.

I look up from my phone, and my eyes land on Maya. She’s playing with Cooper, throwing him a ball over and over again, struggling to get it out of his mouth. Her laughter reverberates through the yard, echoing through my body and warming my skin. The videos I’m watching and seeing her so happy relaxes me a bit, bringing me a pinch of comfort. And I swear to God, I need it today.

“You’re huffing louder than Coop.” I swivel my head to Angie and replace her staring at me. One perfectly plucked eyebrow is arched, and a knowing smirk is on her lips. “What’s wrong?”

I lock my phone, toss it onto the table in front of me, and take another long breath. “I want Maya to wear her glasses.”

“Okay.” Angie nods, getting comfortable on the wooden bench. She puts her hand on her growing belly and slowly caresses it. The temperature today is perfect. Not too hot and not too humid, a little bit of sun, warm wind, and a clear sky. A perfect day in the middle of September. I stretch my legs in front of me. My gaze falls to my thick thighs in my jean shorts, and I scowl. I should wear something that hides them better.

“Do you think it will be a problem?” Angie asks, returning me to our conversation.

“No?” I glance at Maya again. She’s lying on her back on a blanket. Her hands are lifted as she plays with Pua, a plushy pig from Moana. Cooper lies beside her, his head resting on his long legs. “I’m worried. Glasses are one thing, but a patch? It will be a whole different story to convince her to wear that.”

“Didn’t you say that the doctor talked to you both about the importance of glasses and an eye patch?”

I laugh. “Angie, she’s two. Do you really think she understands?”

Red tints her cheeks, and she lowers her gaze to the engagement ring Drake gave her. She pinches it between her fingers and slowly starts twirling it around her finger. Damn. I feel bad for my tone of voice. She doesn’t deserve it.

“Angie, I’m sorry. I’m nervous, and I’m snapping at you for no reason.”

“Thanks.” She meets my gaze for a moment. A smile that wasn’t there a second ago is already pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Besides, you’re right. Maya’s only two. I can’t seriously expect her to understand everything the doctor told her, let alone want to follow his advice.” Angie points to her belly. “I need to remember that when it’s my kids.”

“Just to be clear.” I set my elbows on the table and lean toward her. “We’re still hiding from Drake that it’s twins?”

Angie bites her bottom lip, her hand coming to a stop on her belly. She tucks a few strands of her long brown hair behind her ear. “I’ll tell him once we know whether to expect boys or girls—or both. That will be around the end of October.”

“Still…that’s a month of me hiding things from my brother,” I taunt her, enjoying her flushed look.

It disappears quickly, though, replaced by a devilish smile. She drapes a hand over the back of the bench she’s sitting on, tilts her head to the side, and asks, “Are we going to talk about everything we’re hiding from your brother? Because it’s been three days, and I feel like it’s ready to spill out any minute.”

“Angie,” I warn her, sneaking a glance at Maya, who’s still lying on the blanket, Coop by her side like the best guard dog he is.

“What?” She bats her long lashes at me, a mask of innocence on her beautiful face. “I thought we were confiding in each other. Me about the twins, and you about going on a date with Clay.”

“It wasn’t a date,” I correct her. But her words cause a light fluttering in my belly, making me a little dizzy. “It was for Maya. She wanted to see him. I told you this already.”

A big, radiant smile instantly blooms on Angie’s face. Her eyes twinkle with laughter as she studies me in the quiet. “They were adorable together. It makes me sad you missed it. I watched them for a little while before I walked over. They were hunched over the drawing, talking in hushed voices. I was kinda expecting you to show up.” She glances over her shoulder at Maya and then brings her gaze back to me. “Did she draw something for him?” I nod, surprised to notice Angie’s pout. “She’s never drawn anything for me.”

I throw my head back, giggling. “Angie,” I mutter between bursts of laughter, “did you forget that she drew Coop for you for your birthday?”

Angie becomes thoughtful, her eyes narrowing at her phone on the table. Then she shakes her head. “Goodness. You’re right, Layla. I’m forgetting everything—literally, I have a to-do list where I write down even the smallest, silliest tasks so I remember them. This whole pregnancy information flood gets the best of me from time to time.”

“I know the feeling,” I tell her. The ache in my chest is a raw reminder that I remember it all too well. In a desperate desire to change the subject, to not think about Eli and my pregnancy, I decide to explain myself to her. “Angie, Clay and I are just friends. Our relationship is a memory. Maya took a liking to him for some reason, and he likes her just as much. So when he mentioned he’d never been to your shop and Maya said she wanted to go with him, I thought why not.”

Well, I tried to keep my distance, to say no over and over, to replace excuses. Not because I don’t want to see him, of course not, but because I don’t believe that I deserve another chance with him. I don’t want to give myself false hopes that things might be different between us, because it’s something that never going to happen after all the shit I did. But he won me over by simply telling me what time he’d come pick us up…and, like the good girl I am, I agreed.

I’m hopeless when it comes to Clay Rodgers.

“You look good together,” Angie murmurs sweetly. “Clay, you, and Maya, I mean,” she clarifies with a smile. Her words feel like a stab through my heart. It could’ve been us, a real little family…if only I saw things for what they are, and wasn’t that stupid.

I had real love…and I chose illusion instead.

“He’s a great guy,” I say the first thing that comes to mind. “With him being the new goalie for the Thunders, I’m sure he’s going to replace a lot of girls swooning for his attention. He won’t be alone for long.”

I don’t know why I’m saying this. Who am I trying to convince? Myself or Angie?

“I’m not sure he cares about all those possible girls. It doesn’t look like he needs anyone else except⁠—”

“No.” I lift my hand, cutting her off. “Angie, I love you, but please don’t. Clay and I are over. It’s not an ellipsis, not a semicolon. It’s a full stop.”

She’s silent, staring at me with a calm demeanor. “If you’re sure, then okay. You know him better than me anyway.” Angie shrugs, but the smile that’s still on her lips tells me she’s just leaving me alone for now. “And thank you for letting me keep my little secret from Drake. It means more than you know.”

I grin at her, my mood swiftly changing. “As long as you let me plan your gender reveal and be the first to replace out, you’re fine.”

“I already promised that, didn’t I?” She chuckles. “And I promise I won’t tell Drake anything about you and Clay.” I open my mouth to correct her, but she doesn’t give me the opportunity. “About your friendship with Clay.”

“Thank you.”

We sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the warm weather, while Maya starts playing with Coop again. The way she loves him is something else. Maybe I should get her a dog? A little dachshund? Maybe not now, but a bit later, once she’s older? I think it would make her happy.

And that’s exactly what I want her to be.

“Mommy, no!” Maya sobs, her chin trembling. She stands with her back pressed to the wall, her little hands dangling at her sides, balled into fists. The tears streaming down her face break my heart. “I don’t want this.”

“Baby, it’s for two hours, okay? I’ll put it on your left eye, and then we’ll take it off. I promise.”

“No.” She shakes her head vigorously.

“Maya, baby, haven’t we talked about this? I need you to wear glasses and an eye patch from time to time. We need to train your right eye.” I’m standing on my knees, holding her gaze and trying my best not to cry myself. I need to be strong for her. “Remember what Doctor⁠—”

“I don’t want it!” she yells at me. Then she pushes herself away from the wall and runs out of the bathroom.

I stay put, her pink glasses in one hand and an eye patch with unicorns on it in the other. My chest caves in; my breathing is short and erratic. I knew it wouldn’t be easy. I expected her to throw a tantrum, maybe refuse to wear the eye patch.

God, I don’t want to cry, but hot, fat tears are already filling my eyes.

Maya doesn’t want to wear her glasses, doesn’t want to put an eye patch on. She wants me to leave her alone, but I can’t. If everything the doctor prescribed works, she won’t need surgery. But if I fail at getting her to do what needs to be done, then…

A sob bolts out of my throat, and tears come flooding. I weep, quietly at first, my body wracked by shuddering sobs. Slowly, I stand up from the floor, put the glasses and the eye patch on the bathroom counter, and wander to my bedroom. I don’t have the energy to go replace her. I need a moment to myself to calm down.

I plop onto my bed, close my eyes, and lie here. My face is wet from tears. It’s going to be fine. I’ll be able to convince her. Maya will agree, and it will help with her intermittent exotropia. She’s going to be healthy and fine. She’s going to be⁠—

“Mommy?” Her quiet, shaky voice makes my eyes snap open. Maya stands in front of me, her face red and tearstained. She’s still crying, and it cracks my heart more. These are no longer angry tears; she’s just upset.

“Come, sweetie.” I wriggle, making room for her. “Come here.”

Maya climbs onto my bed, moving toward me until her face is hidden in my chest. I wrap my arms around her slender little body and press her to me, holding her close.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t make you cry.”

“Y-you cry too,” she hiccups. “Mommy, I’m sorry.”

“Baby, I understand that you’re scared, but please know you have nothing to be scared of.” I bend down, and she lifts her face to me. “Do you remember what the doctor told you?”

She nods.

“Your right eye is a bit weaker than your left, a bit lazier. We need to train it, and wearing an eye patch a few hours a day will help us. Just like the glasses.”

“I don’t like it.” She sniffles.

“I often have to do things I don’t like, but I do them anyway. You’ll be wearing the eye patch at home, when it’s just us. Will that be better for you?”

“Yes.”

“The glasses are different because you’ll need to wear them to preschool.”

Maya frowns, and her pouty mouth starts trembling again.

“But didn’t you see how beautiful they are? How cool? They are pink!”

“Pink?”

“Wanna see them?” I ask, a hopeful sound to my hoarse voice.

She nods and starts moving away, but instead, I pull her into me and keep her close. “A few more minutes, okay?” I hide my nose in her soft hair, the smell of cotton candy hitting my nostrils. She’s an embodiment of everything that’s important to me. She’s my home.

“Okay.”

We lie together in the dimness of my room. Usually, I’d light some scented candles that I have on my nightstand while I’m getting ready for bed, but now I have no desire to move. The minutes are ticking by. It’s growing darker as night falls. Maya’s heart is beating slow and steady, her breathing labored and quiet. Then she falls asleep, and for the first time in several months, I let her stay instead of taking her to her room.

I snuggle her into me and close my eyes, letting sleep win me over.

We’re going to be fine. I know it.