Power Play: A Second Chance Hockey Romance (Sinners on the Ice)
Power Play: A Second Chance Hockey Romance: Chapter 19

Now, September

“Fuck,” I curse, throwing my controller across the table and away from me. It drives me up the wall that I can’t pass this mission no matter how many times I try. It’s been two fucking days, and I’ve made zero progress.

Standing up from the couch, relentless energy circulates under my skin, poisoning my veins and making me reckless. Good thing I got to play yesterday. We won another preseason game, three to two against Dallas, and it made my day a bit better. Though it was all forgotten the second I stepped into the house and turned on my TV to play Call of Duty. The relief I was looking for didn’t come. My thoughts began their vicious circle in my head, my mind returning to her text over and over and over. So many flirty messages over the last two weeks, and then bam! This one out of nowhere.

She didn’t think it was a good idea, she said, about going out with me. That Maya was her priority. As if I don’t fucking know that. She’s a mom, a single mom, who can only rely on herself when it comes to her little girl. I wanted to change that. I wanted to show her, to prove to her that she can count on me when it comes to them both. But then she sent that text and stopped all communication. Again.

I’m growing tired of her constant push while all I’m trying to do is pull her in.

Someone knocks on the door, and I stop pacing the room. I’m contemplating pretending I’m not home. Who’s here anyway? The knock repeats, and I exhale through my mouth.

Fuck this.

Once the door opens, my eyes meet Dylan’s green ones. She grins at me with her open smile, and firecrackers dance behind her dilated pupils. I lower my gaze to her hands and arch an eyebrow. She’s holding a box of donuts from what looks like Angie’s dessert shop.

She greets me in our usual manner: “Hey, neighbor.”

“Hey, neighbor.” I prop my side against the doorframe, hiding my hands in my pockets. She shifts, her long hair falling over her bare shoulder. She’s wearing a pink crop top and light blue jeans. Today she’s shorter than usual, but that’s because she’s in gold sandals that match her little bag. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I came here to say thank you and give you this.” She extends the box to me. I pull my hands out of my pockets and take the donuts from her. “It’s a new place I recently discovered. Their desserts and pastries are the best. I hope you like donuts.”

“I know the owner. She’s my friend’s fiancée.”

“Really?” Dylan gasps, her lips parting. I nod. “Please tell her that I love her work.”

“Sure.” I chuckle, dropping my gaze to the box. “But what are you thanking me for?”

“For giving me Layla’s number,” she explains nonchalantly. My heart pierces with a familiar pain, the one I’ve been carrying within me for six years. Since she broke up with me. “She totally killed it! The bouquet she made for me was utter perfection. Sam loved it. When she posted it on her socials, her mutuals started asking about where she got it.” Her silvery laugh fills my ears as her head lolls back. “I need to text Layla and ask for her handle so we can tag her. I’m sure she’ll get a ton of new followers and hopefully some new clients. All because of you.”

“I wanted to help out…a friend.” I shrug, thinking back to Tuesday evening, when I ran into Dylan after I got home from Texas and gave her Layla’s number. “Um, when did you call her?”

“On Wednesday. I called her in the morning, and then I picked up the bouquet on my way to the party.”

A light bulb comes on in my head. My brain connects all the dots, and the picture becomes clear. My lips split into a huge smile as the realization dawns on me.

Fucking hell. She got jealous.

“That’s awesome. I’m glad you liked what she made for you.”

“I did.” Dylan bites her bottom lip. “Oh, I just remembered. Congratulations on another win. You were great.”

“Did you watch?”

She nods eagerly.

“Are you becoming a Thunders fan?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I like watching my neighbor play.” Her gaze holds mine, her green eyes darkening. I know she likes me, but there will never be anything between us. I want Layla, and if I can’t have her, then I don’t need anyone else.

“I’ll get you tickets to a home game once the regular season starts,” I tell her, and her breathing hitches. “There’s someone on the team I think you might like. Maybe you already saw him actually. His name is Dean Crawford. He’s our left wing. He’s single, and I can introduce you to him.”

The way her smile dies brings me a tiny bit of guilt, but I know I’m doing the right thing.

“Oh, cool. Thanks. I can’t wait,” Dylan mutters, backing away slightly. “I’ll go. I’m sure you have better things to do than chat with me.”

“I like chatting with you,” I tell her honestly. “But I do need to get going. I have somewhere to be.” More like someone to stalk—and this time, I won’t let her push me away. Enough is enough.

“Good luck with your plans.” She turns around and goes down the stairs. “Bye, Clay.”

“Bye,” I say, then I close the door. Quickly checking the time on my phone, I take the donuts to the kitchen and then head to my bedroom. It’s 3:00 p.m. She should be home. At least I hope she is. If not, I’ll wait in the car until she shows up.

I’m done letting her run away.

My phone dings with an incoming text. I grab it from the passenger seat and check it. Oh, great, it’s from Ethan’s cousin.

I slip my phone into my pocket and climb out of my car. To avoid unwanted attention, I parked at Costco, and now I’ll need to walk to her place. I have ten minutes to compose myself and decide how I want to handle this. Insinuating that I know why she cut ties this time won’t do me any good. It will make her defensive and angry, and that’s not a good combination when it comes to Layla.

Catching her off guard is my best bet.

I knock on her door, feeling more determined than I thought I’d be and less nervous. I think knowing that she pushed me away because she got jealous gave me the boost of confidence I needed. I was glad to finally understand why because not knowing did my head in.

The door opens, and Layla’s surprised look comes into view. Her eyes round like saucers, and her eyebrows go up to her hairline. She stares at me, not saying anything. Barely breathing, from what I can see.

“Hey,” I say, tilting my head to the side.

“Hey.” Layla clears her throat, interlocking her hands in front of her. “What are you doing here?” She glances over my shoulder, assessing the driveway. “Where’s your car?”

“I was in the neighborhood, and I decided to stop by. So we could talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She shakes her head; her surprised look morphs into a stubborn one. Her posture becomes more rigid, and her unyielding gaze is focused on me.

“Unfortunately, I have a different opinion,” I say with a shrug and push past her into her house.

“Clay!” Layla yelps, quickly shutting the door. “What the fuck?” Her panicked gaze coasts over my face and then to the hallway. “Maya is asleep. I don’t want her to wake up yet.”

“Where can we talk then?” I keep my voice quiet but stay put, not moving an inch.

She balls her fists, her body shuddering in anger. Her jaw is clenched tight, and her eyes are shooting daggers at me. I don’t care if she’s pissed. I don’t care that I’m pushing her boundaries. All I know is that she’s mine, and I will never give up on her. On us.

“Follow me,” she grits through her teeth, wheeling around and heading to the kitchen. I follow her quietly, not daring to check out her place. Instead, my gaze falls on her round ass in tight black leggings, and it’s enough to make my dick throb in my pants.

Fuck, I want her.

She opens the door to the garage and walks into her workroom. The white of the walls makes it look bigger than it is. There’s one big, refrigerated storage unit standing along the farthest wall, full of flowers of different types and colors, from white to red, yellow to purple. A worktable is set up in the middle of the room, with a dozen red roses on it. What brings a smile to my face is her laptop, open and perched on the table, with a very familiar TV show playing on the screen. She’s been watching Gossip Girl. From what I see, it must be season three or four—I don’t remember for sure. I just know it’s the one where some scenes were filmed in Paris.

“How many times have you watched this already?”

She walks over to her laptop and pauses the episode, only then turning to face me. “What do you want, Clay?”

“You promised to go out with me if the Thunders won. We won,” I tell her confidently. She blinks, her plump lips parting. “I need to take my car in tomorrow, and my friend from Chicago suggested I go to his uncle. He has a car shop in Monterey. It’s about an hour and a half ride. Will you go with me? With Maya, of course. It will be fun. Monterey is a very beautiful place.”

Silence follows my words, but I don’t rush her. I wait for her to say something. Layla takes a deep breath, her nostrils flaring with barely hidden anger. “Did you get my text?”

I nod.

“Then what part of it didn’t you understand? I don’t want to go anywhere with you. Maya is⁠—”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with Maya. Your text, I mean.”

A loud snort springs out of her mouth, and she places her hands on her hips. “No? Wow, Clay, you’re so observant. So fucking smart, right?” She takes a step toward me, her eyes narrowing. “Maya and her happiness are the only things in the world I care about. I can’t let you swoop in and start spending time with us as if it’s so easy. She likes you, and the more you’re around, the more attached to you she’ll become. And what happens if you decide to walk away? If you meet someone and fall in love because being your friend is the only thing I can offer you?”

I know where she’s going with this. My calm mood disappears, replaced by fury.

“I already live with the guilt that her own father wants nothing to do with her, and what if you⁠—”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that fucking asshole,” I growl, stepping into her. We’re chest to chest, our eyes hooked on each other as I bend down to meet her gaze. “I would’ve never left. I would’ve never treated you the way he did. I would’ve never been here if I didn’t think I could handle it. If I didn’t know that that’s what I want.” I lift my hand and trap her chin between my thumb and index finger, tilting her face toward me. With how her eyes go cloudy, I know I’ve been right all along. She still likes me. “And I call bullshit on your theory that being my friend is the only thing you can offer me.”

The tip of her tongue darts out from the corner of her mouth, and she wets her bottom lip. “You’re wrong,” Layla whispers, trying to sound stern, but her body is betraying her. Her full tits are pressed to my chest as she leans into me, into my touch.

“You saw Dylan and got jealous,” I tell her. My eyes coast over her beautiful face. “But you have nothing to be jealous of.”

And I crash my mouth onto hers, kissing her hard. Our lips move together in perfect sync as if we kissed just yesterday. Her arms wrap around my shoulders as she molds her body to mine. I groan into her mouth, grabbing a handful of her ass. My tongue curls around hers, wanting more, demanding more, needing more. It feels even better than I remember.

I start moving, backing her up. My lips stay locked on hers. We kiss and kiss until her ass hits the table. I reach behind her and push the roses away, freeing up the space. Her hands sneak under my tee, feeling me up and caressing my skin with the light touch of her fingertips. I wind my hand around her waist and lift her then set her on top of her worktable.

“God, I missed this,” I murmur as I move to stand between her legs. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she whispers, and that’s all it takes for me to lose control. I grab the back of her neck and pull her into me. My lips collide with hers. It seems like the more we kiss, the more desperate we grow. My whole body vibrates under her touch; the heat of my skin is setting me ablaze.

“Mommy?” Maya’s voice freezes us on the spot.

I scoot away from Layla. Her bewildered state makes me smile, though I highly doubt I look any better. I hastily take a step back, and Layla jumps off the table. She tries to smooth her hair, her cheeks reddening as she keeps her gaze glued to the door. It slowly opens, and Maya steps into the garage. Her hair is down and messy. She rubs her eye with her little knuckle. Her other hand is clutching a plush toy to her chest. Her pink PJs with unicorns on them put a big smile on my face.

“Hey, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?” Layla asks, her voice shaking a bit. Her chest still rises and falls rapidly.

Maya opens her mouth, ready to answer her mom. But then she notices me, and the look on her face is absolutely priceless. Her toy falls to the ground as she runs to me, her tinkling laughter filling the whole space.

“Clay!”

“Hey, Princess.” I catch her in my arms and lift her. She curls her hand around my neck, pressing her head to my cheek. “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” she says with delight. “You came to play with me?”

“I promised you, didn’t I?” I wink at her, making her laugh again. Her sweet scent of cotton candy swarms around me as she leans into me further. “I have a question for you, sweetie. Will you help me convince your mommy to take a little trip tomorrow? Just you, your mommy, and me. What do you say?”

Her chocolate brown eyes focus on me, studying me intently. Then she nods and swivels in my arms to get a better look at Layla. “Mommy, please. I wanna go.”

“I…” She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, her face lighting up with a smile. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

I grin at her in return. “Cool.” I glance at the roses on the table. “You still need to work?”

“I need to finish one bouquet and I’ll be done for the day.”

“Then finish.” My eyes meet Maya’s. “And you and I will finally play together. I’ve been dying to see your toys. Will you show them to me?”

Suddenly, Maya plants a kiss on my cheek. All the words disappear from my mind, all the sounds. This fuzzy, pleasant feeling forms in my stomach, spreading warmth across my skin, sewing it right into my veins, injecting it into my bones.

I finally replace my voice again. “Let’s go, Princess. Let your mommy work while we play.”

As I leave the room with Maya in my arms, I sneak a glance at Layla. She’s watching us, so many emotions crossing her face. I wink at her, and she smiles.

I’ve never felt this happy in my life.

Never.

I want to feel this way forever.