Power Play: A Second Chance Hockey Romance (Sinners on the Ice)
Power Play: A Second Chance Hockey Romance: Chapter 31

2 years 9 months ago, August

Where the hell is Eli? I’ve been looking for him for the past fifteen minutes and still there’s no sign of my boyfriend. It’s like Colt and Ava’s house is a fucking castle, I swear.

Or is there another explanation, way simpler and less pleasant? He doesn’t want me to replace him. Doesn’t want me to hear about his shitty friends banging groupies anytime they have a gig. Or⁠—

No. I shouldn’t think like that. Eli and I have been good the last month, not even a single argument or scandal. It could be something else. It has to be.

Then where is he, Layla?

I groan and push open the door to the bathroom. Once inside, I walk to the sink and stare at my reflection in the mirror. Loosening my high ponytail, I let my hair down to veil my shoulders. My fingers thread through my hair. My pink-tinted lips smack into a pout. I don’t look happy. And I’d be lying if I said it was just because I’m annoyed.

Happiness isn’t something I’ve felt for a while…and I don’t know how to fix it. How can I fix something with someone who doesn’t think anything is broken? Eli says we’re good, that I’m imagining things, but at this point it’s more like gaslighting when he tries to convince me of something I know isn’t true.

Too bad I’m in love with him. Things would be a thousand times better if I wasn’t.

Turning on the faucet, I let the water run until it’s ice cold. I collect water in my cupped hands and then splash it on my face, trying to avoid my eyes. The last thing I need is to ruin my makeup. I spent way too much time making sure it looks good.

I’m afraid that in my attempt to prove to my ex that I’m happy and in love, I lost sight of why I even need this charade. Clay has always seen right through my bullshit, and he didn’t buy my lies today. Just like I expected.

Someone knocks on the door, and then it opens and Clay steps into the bathroom. Our eyes lock in the reflection of the mirror, then I watch him close the door behind him. The sound of the lock rings through the space.

His yellowish-green eyes have an unfamiliar glint to them. Something is hidden behind his irises, and for now I can’t crack the meaning of it. He barely smiled today, and I suspect me showing up to Ava’s birthday with Eli is exactly the reason why. His hair is tousled, messy on top, probably from all the times I saw him raking his fingers through it. His white tee and dark blue jeans look wonderful on him, emphasizing how muscular his chest is, how deliciously lean his body is. He’s as handsome as he’s always been…and he’s unhappy too.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” he offers with a little grin, stopping behind my back. “I wanted to have a moment with you. Alone.”

I turn around and lean against the bathroom countertop. “Why?”

“You know why.” Clay lets his gaze roam over my face and down my body. I cross my legs at my ankles, trying to hide how nervous he makes me feel. “Why is he here?”

“Who?”

“That guy.”

“Are you referring to Eli?” I know he is, but with how anxious I am, playing dumb might be my best tactic.

“Yes. Why is he here?”

“He’s my boyfriend.” I lift my shoulder in a shrug. “I think it’s logical that Ava invited us both to her birthday.”

“You aren’t happy,” he tells me, slipping his hands in his pockets. “You don’t love him.”

I snort. “I’m sorry, but what do you know about love? Since when did you become such an expert?”

His gaze darkens as he steps into me. A glowering mask crosses his features as he stares at me in silence. “I know everything about love, and I’m telling you…that guy is bad news. He doesn’t deserve you. Hell, he doesn’t even love you.” The tip of his tongue slips out one corner of his mouth, and he traces his bottom lip. “Why is he here, Layla?”

There’s suddenly not enough air. Clay’s presence crowds me, heating up the space between us. My cheeks become warm; hot, sizzling lava boils in my veins. I lower my eyes to my feet.

“He’s here because he’s my boyfriend,” I repeat quietly. My heart gallops; an artery in my neck pulsates. It’s always better to rip off the Band-Aid fast. It will hurt less. “We live together, Clay.”

“You what?”

I look up. His brow is furrowed, his lips pursed together, but that’s not what makes my knees go weak. It’s the tortured gleam in his eyes that pierces my heart with a pang.

“Eli asked me to move in with him, and I agreed. We live together. Things are serious between us.”

Clay puts both of his hands on top of his head and locks them. A puff of air springs out of his mouth. “But what about the plans we made? You said you signed a contract for a year with this agency, that you wanted to gain experience. Then you promised to come live with me. So we can finally try to be together for real.”

The pain in his voice cracks my heart. I chew on my bottom lip, avoiding looking at him. “That was before Eli. Everything is different now.” I focus my attention on the wall behind his back.

Raising his face to the ceiling, he keeps silent. His Adam’s apple moves up and down as he swallows. When he finally brings his gaze back to me, I want the ground to open up and swallow me. Flashbacks of the day I broke up with him flare in my mind as if I’m doing it all over again.

He moves, his body blanketing mine. His arm curves around my waist as his other goes to the back of my head. He makes me look him in the eyes, the feel of his skin on mine setting my body on fire.

I love him…but I’m not in love with him now. I’m in love with Eli.

“Layla, please, have I ever lied to you?”

I shake my head.

“This guy…he doesn’t love you. I don’t know why he’s with you, but it’s not because he loves you.”

I try to push him away. Anger poisons my thoughts, a dark energy surging through my body. “You don’t know him. Eli is⁠—”

“I heard him talking on the phone with some girl. He called her Jessie. They were making plans.”

My heart leaps into my throat. I can’t even utter a word.

“It didn’t sound friendly. They were planning a date. I swear, Layla, I’m telling you the truth.”

I know who he’s talking about. I know who Jessie is. But I thought that was all in the past. Eli swore he stopped seeing her.

“Layla, look at me.” Clay tilts my face up to him. My tear-filled eyes collide with his, and he lowers his head to mine so our foreheads touch. “I’d never lie to you. All I care about is you and your happiness. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I’ll talk to him,” I whisper. My voice is hoarse and weak. “And if what you said is true, I’ll break up with him.”

“Promise?” he asks. I nod. “Promise me if you break up with him, you’ll come to Chicago. That you’ll stay with me, and we’ll finally tell everyone the truth. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

A small smile lifts his lips. He bends down, ready to kiss me, but I turn away.

“No, Clay. I don’t want to be a cheater.”

“I’m sorry,” he says on an exhale. He presses his lips to my forehead and lingers there, inhaling my scent. “I looked up a few real estate agencies in Chicago. Some are hiring.”

I chuckle, winding my hands around his torso. “I’m not sure that’s what I want to do. I recently got into floristry, and it’s been bringing me joy.”

“Then floristry it shall be. I’ll support you with anything you need.”

We stay in each other’s embrace, holding tight. My eyes are closed, and the beat of my heart is calm and steady. Our relationship reminds me of a pendulum, never settling in one direction, always replaceing its way back. Always replaceing our way back to each other.

I’ll always love him, no matter what.

“I need to get back,” I tell him, stepping away reluctantly. “I don’t want anyone to suspect anything with both of us gone.”

He gives me a smirk that reminds me more of a grimace and says, “Yeah, especially not Drake. They aren’t quite ready to hear our story, right?”

“They aren’t.” I head for the door.

“Layla?”

I glance at him over my shoulder.

“I’ll wait for you. I’ll always wait for you.”

With a nod, I flash him a small smile. Then I turn away and unlock the door. Straightening my spine, I walk down the hallway and into the backyard. I’ll talk to Eli tonight.

Eli paces our hotel room as I sit on the bed. I watch him, biting my bottom lip. He mutters something under his breath, but I barely hear him. He’s pissed, that’s for sure. But I don’t understand why.

“So let me get this straight,” he growls, stopping abruptly in front of me. “Your ex tells you that he wants to be with you. Tells you that I don’t love you. Tells you that I’m fucking cheating on you with Jessie. All because of the phone call he heard. Did I get it right?”

His blue eyes stare at me menacingly. His usually beautiful face, with its strong jawline and high cheekbones, is contorted in anger.

“Yes.”

He throws his head back, laughing. It reminds me of a hyena’s yelp, and I shiver.

“Layla, baby, I love you. Only you. Why would I ask you to move in with me if I weren’t serious about us?” He takes my hands in his, scrutinizing me. “Why would I ask you to be my girlfriend if I wasn’t over Jessie? It doesn’t make any sense.”

It doesn’t. We could’ve easily continued seeing each other without moving in together. That’s probably why it was so hard for me to believe Clay.

“Then why are you still talking to Jessie?” I plead. “You told me she was out of your life.”

Eli climbs on the bed and pulls me to him. I straddle his legs, and he snakes his hands around my waist and holds me close. “She is out of my life, but she’s still around because she helps with the band. She’s Malcolm’s little sister, and he’s my fucking drummer. That’s the reason I’m still talking to her.”

“Really?” I lean away, my gaze coasting over his face. I’m in love with Eli, and I desperately want to believe him. I want us to work.

He smiles, and his dimples show up on his cheeks. “Really. I need you. Only you. I don’t fucking care about anyone else.”

“Promise?”

“I swear, baby.” He hugs me tight, hiding his face in my neck. “I’ll need to punish you, though. You shouldn’t have listened to your ex. He was jealous. He wants to break us up so he can have you back.”

“I’m with you,” I whisper, closing my eyes and enjoying his closeness. “You can do whatever you want.”

Everything else dissipates into the background. It’s Eli and me, and no one else.

One month later, September

I sit on the couch in Eli’s living room. My gaze is glued to the table, at the numerous pregnancy tests spread out across the surface. It can’t be true! I want to scream. But at least five pregnancy tests beg to differ.

I’m pregnant.

Eli is going to be a dad.

We’re going to be parents.

Sure, it’s not what I planned. Not what I had in mind for my future. But why do I feel so fucking doomed? As if this is the worst thing that could’ve happened to me.

I glance to my left and pick up my phone. I quickly unlock it, replace his last text where he again was asking me about my talk with Eli, the question I continuously ignored, and type my message. It takes me about thirty minutes to actually come up with something decent.

Sent.

Tossing my phone back onto the couch, an avalanche of worries slams into me. I hide my face in my hands. God, I hope I made the right decision.

I hope Clay can forgive me.