Power Play: A Second Chance Hockey Romance (Sinners on the Ice)
Power Play: A Second Chance Hockey Romance: Chapter 17

Now, September

My phone starts ringing as I climb out of my car. It’s barely 9:00 a.m., and I just dropped Maya off at preschool. A panicked thought zips through my brain, and I hastily pull my phone out of my purse, expecting to see the teacher’s name, but instead, it’s an unknown number. Relief washes over me. It’s most likely not someone from the preschool.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” a woman’s voice says. “I’m sorry for calling you so early—I really hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“No, um, you’re fine.” I pause, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Sorry, who is this?”

“Oh God! I’m sorry. My brain isn’t braining yet.” She laughs; the sound is melodic and bubbly. “My name is Dylan. Your friend gave me your number and said you could help me with a bouquet. It’s my friend’s birthday, and I forgot to order something for her.”

A new client? This is awesome! I have a few big orders for this week, but I can definitely sneak in one or two smaller ones.

“When do you need it?” I ask.

“Tonight? Is that possible?”

“Sure,” I confirm, heading to my front door. “Send me some examples of bouquets you like. Or you can tell me which flowers you want me to use, and I will figure something out myself.”

“I have two pictures saved! I’ll text them to you,” Dylan chirps excitedly. Then I hear my phone ding with an incoming text. I remove it from my ear and check the pictures she sent me. Roses, lavender, and white carnations. Well, I can definitely make this work. “What do you think?” she asks.

“They’re beautiful.” I start opening the door. “I should have it ready around five p.m. Will that be okay? Or do you need it earlier?”

“Five is great. I’ll come pick it up on my way to my friend’s birthday party.”

“Okay.” I step into the house, then push the door closed. Excitement brews inside me, a giddy smile pulling at my lips. I have a new client. Maybe if she likes it enough, she’ll spread the word about my little business. Today is going to be a great day.

“Can you please text me your address? Clay only gave me your number.”

My smile dies, and my heart painfully squeezes. “Clay?”

“Yeah, Clay Rodgers. Do you…know him?”

“I do.” I clear my throat; my thoughts are in total disarray. I was so happy to land a new client, I didn’t even bother to ask who gave her my phone number. It didn’t occur to me that it could be Clay because I didn’t think he had any female friends here. “Erm, yeah, I know Clay…I’ll send you the address, and the bouquet will be ready for you at five.”

“Thank you so, so much! You’re a lifesaver! Can’t wait to see the bouquet,” she singsongs. Her voice, which sounded so nice earlier, is now grating on my nerves.

“Hope you like it. See you.”

“See you.”

I end the call and push my phone back into my purse. Who is this girl? Obviously, I don’t keep tabs on Clay, but I’m certain Ava or Angie never mentioned anyone named Dylan being close to the hockey team. Where did he meet her?

My mood changes so drastically that I don’t know what to do with myself. All the questions I have and all the answers I probably don’t want to hear running around in my head. Clay is single. He’s so fucking handsome, I get stars in my eyes every time I look at him. He’s hot, kind, and successful. Any girl in their right mind would want a guy like him. So why am I surprised he has a friend I don’t know about?

Didn’t I say I wanted him to be happy?

Stepping into the living room, I pause in the doorframe, rocking back and forth on my heels. Unwelcome tears fill my eyes, and my vision becomes blurry. He is single, Layla, and you know better than anyone that you don’t deserve a second chance with him. I bite my bottom lip, trying to keep my tears at bay. Being overly negative is not healthy. It pummels my confidence into the ground, battering it so hard that I have a hard time calming down.

I press my palm to my chest, breathing in and out. In and out, trying to gain control of my dark thoughts. My poor heart thrashes in my chest like a little bird born in the wild and now trapped in a cage.

Everything’s going to be all right. It doesn’t matter if I stay single forever because I have Maya and my family and my friends. I don’t need a partner to feel beautiful or sexy or confident. I am enough.

Repeating all that over and over, I feel my breathing go back to normal, and my heart replaces its steady rhythm again. It helps me to think clearly, and the situation doesn’t seem so gloomy anymore. I’ve made an assumption without even seeing this Dylan girl, without asking her how she knows Clay, without knowing anything about her connection to him. But also, I realize that I’ve been letting him get close to me, and more importantly to Maya, without thinking about the consequences if things go wrong.

It’s no longer about me; it hasn’t been since I became a mom. I don’t want to let anyone into Maya’s and my life and risk them abandoning us. Not even Clay. This should be top of my mind next time I’m deciding whether or not to see him. She’s drawn to him, and the last thing I want is for her to get hurt if things between us go downhill.

I fish out my phone, check the text he sent me last night, and close the app without replying and hide it back in my purse. I have better things to do, considering all the bouquets and compositions I need to make, on top of cooking Maya’s favorite soup: chicken noodle. Wasting my time in doubts and fears isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing.

“Mommy, I want to go to Cooper.” Maya stands in front of me. Her plush toy is pressed to her chest.

I glance at my watch. It’s 5:15 p.m., and there’s no sign of this Dylan girl. The bouquet I made for her is on the table, drawing my attention no matter how hard I try not to focus on it, bringing back all the worries I’ve been ignoring for the better part of the day. It’s absolutely stunning. Pastel pink roses with lavender stock, white carnations and lavender alstroemeria accented with baby’s breath and greenery. And the smell is nice and airy. I’m proud of my work, of all the details and how I arranged them.

“Mommy?” Maya calls out to me again, yanking on the skirt of my apron.

“Sorry, baby, I zoned out for a moment.” I look around my small garage studio, checking all the bouquets and compositions I’ve made today. Most of them will be gone tomorrow morning, when a delivery service my client arranged is scheduled to come. Work has always been a cure-all for my bad mood, but today it proved it can also distract me from my fears.

But since I’m done, and since it’s time for this girl to finally show up, I start feeling anxious again.

“See this bouquet?”

Maya nods.

“Someone is going to be here soon to pick it up. I need to be home.”

“I want to go Coop.” Maya pouts, lowering her gaze to her feet. Goodness, she’s playing me so well.

“How about I take you to Coop’s house, then come back home and wait for this client to show up?”

“Yes!” Squealing, she turns around and dashes back into the house. I shake my head, watching her disappear from view.

I’ll take Maya to Drake and Angie’s and then call this Dylan. Sure, there’s nowhere I need to be, but her being late feels icky. And disrespectful, considering she didn’t call to warn me about it.

Why did I think it was a good idea to invite Angie to Maya’s and my Disney marathons? She’s been insufferable about sending Frozen gifs. I swear she has one for every situation.

I take off my apron, put it on my worktable, and head out of the garage. Glancing down at my loose gray tee and black leggings, I consider changing my clothes but then decide against it. I look fine.

Stopping in front of the mirror in the hallway, I quickly style my hair into a little bun and secure it with my hairpin. I definitely need to wash my hair before I go to bed tonight.

“Ready to go?” I ask. Maya zips out of her room with two more plush toys in her hands. “Sweetheart, do you remember what Coop almost did to one of your plushies? Maybe you should keep some of them at home? Take just one?”

She shakes her head, clutching her toys harder to her chest. Upon quick examination, I notice Pua, Skye from Paw Patrol, and also a little avocado. I hope Coop won’t try to steal any of them. Last time, I spent around thirty minutes sewing Pua’s leg back on.

“Let’s go then.” Opening the door, I let Maya out first and then follow her outside. Thank God Drake and Angie live next door. “I’ll call the client I’ve been waiting for once you’re with Angie and Drake, and then I’ll come over too.”

“Great!” Her steps are bouncing, causing her pigtails to swing back and forth. I smile, watching her climb the stairs. My heart is so full of love for her.

The moment I knock on the door, I hear a car pull into our driveway. Looking over my shoulder, I see a black Kia Sportage. I pinch my eyebrows together, barely paying attention as Drake opens the door. My eyes meet his for a moment. I give him a quick smile, then I jab my thumb over my shoulder at the car. “I’ll be back. That’s my new client.”

“Sure.” Drake nods and scoops Maya into his arms and closes the door as he asks her about her day in preschool.

I hurry down the stairs as the girl jumps out of her car. My heart goes pitter-patter as I swallow the bile clogging my throat. My regret for not changing my clothes brings a bitter taste to my mouth. I’m like a moth compared to this girl. Like a big, fat moth. She’s absolutely gorgeous, dammit.

Her long blond hair is straight and glows brightly in the late afternoon sun. Her heels clicking on the pavement echo the rattling of my heart, which is now thundering in my chest. She’s in a black bodycon dress with a cut-out front, showing off her taut midriff and long legs. But what kills me is the dashing smile on her beautiful face.

“Hey, you must be Dylan,” I say, or more like croak. My voice is hoarse.

I’m a fucking toad.

“Hey. Layla, right?” she asks, and I nod. “I’m so, so sorry I’m late! I got a last-minute call and left the house in such a hurry—I completely forgot to call you. I feel awful.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t have any plans, so I have nowhere to be.”

She reaches over and pats my hand. “Still, I’m very sorry.”

I smile at her friendly face. “Will you wait for me here? Or do you want to⁠—”

“Here, if that’s okay. I’m going to be late for my friend’s party if I don’t leave in the next five minutes.”

“I got you.” I wink at her. Why do I fucking wink at her? Wheeling around, I go into my garage, snatch the bouquet from the table, and return to Dylan. Her mouth opens, and her eyes widen in shock. “Here you go.” I extend the flowers to her.

“OMG—this is a work of art. I can’t believe it!” She takes the bouquet and buries her face in it, inhaling deeply. “And the fragrance! I swear it’s the most stunning bouquet I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it, girl.” She pulls her wallet from her purse, fishes out a hundred bucks, and hands it to me. “I know you said seventy, but for this masterpiece, and your time—you deserve more.”

“Dylan—”

“No, take it.” She takes a step back, a wide grin splitting her lips. “I’m going to talk all my friends’ ears off about you and your business. You totally got yourself a new regular.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

She opens her car door and puts the bouquet on the passenger seat. “I’ll need to thank Clay for giving me your number. You two are a godsend.”

The skip in the beat of my heart strikes me hard, and my genuine smile transforms into a grimace. “Yeah, I’ll need to thank him too. How did you guys meet, by the way?”

“Oh.” Dylan laughs, throwing her head back. “We’re neighbors, actually. And I might have a little—or not so little—crush on him. I mean, have you seen the guy?”

I’m going to puke. “He sure is…handsome.”

“Handsome and so fucking sweet. At least he has been all the times I’ve met him.” She sighs dreamily, but when she brings her eyes to my face, she doesn’t seem happy. “He made it clear he’s not interested, though, and I respect that. But a girl can look, right?”

A fake laugh rumbles from the back of my throat. “She sure can.”

“Finally, someone who understands me.” Dylan grins, rounding her car, and opens the driver’s side door. “It was nice to meet you, Layla. And thank you so, so much for the flowers. I’m sure Sam is going to love them.”

“I hope so. Bye.”

She waves at me before climbing into her car and closing the door. She drives away, and I continue standing still, my hands dangling at my sides. Instead of heading to Drake’s place, I go back inside, stroll into my living room, and plop myself down on the couch. The scent of apple and cinnamon is still strong even after an hour since I put out a scented candle that is perched on a small wooden table in front of the couch. It helps me to relax my taut muscles. A few minutes to myself should calm me down completely.

Closing my eyes, I rest my head on the back of the couch. I know she said he’s not interested, but what if that’s for now? She’s like a fucking model—stunning and flawless. And I’m me, with my thick thighs, my flabby belly with stretch marks all over it. Add in the fact that I broke his heart. His trust. I didn’t keep any of the promises I made him.

I’m not a match for him.

If he starts going out with Dylan or someone who looks like her, things will be exactly how they’re supposed to be. Handsome men with personalities of gold don’t date their toxic exes. I need to remember that.

As I slowly get out my phone, the heavy weight on my soul pounds me hard into the ground. My fingers tremble as I open his text and finally reply, slipping a few times while typing my answer.

I need to protect my poor tarnished heart and my precious little girl from heartbreak and disappointment. So continuing to hang out with Clay is not going to happen. It’s a no for me.