Power Play: A Second Chance Hockey Romance (Sinners on the Ice)
Power Play: A Second Chance Hockey Romance: Chapter 6

Now, August

Sometimes I think about relationships as a form of dancing. One step forward when things are fine, two steps back when there’s an argument or a little squabble. Lean in when your partner needs you, lean away when one of you needs space. Watch your step and follow the rhythm to avoid problems. The more in harmony a couple is, the more perfect their dance turns out.

My dance with Eli when we became a couple was never good. With Clay, on the other hand? Ten out of ten, not a single foot was hurt in the process. What’s more fascinating? Even after years apart, our dance is still the same—if you ignore the little hiccup that happened when we first saw each other today. We’re both at the party, spending time with our friends, laughing and joking, sitting near each other, and there’s no awkwardness, no tension. It’s like we’re following the choreography that only we know, with just a subtle glance at each other to check the next move.

The catch? We are dancing to avoid each other.

“Goodness, Michael!” I turn my head toward Ava’s voice. She stands with her hands on her hips, glaring at her son from under furrowed eyebrows. “What are you doing?”

My gaze wanders to Michael, who’s standing near a swimming pool with his hands behind his back. The smile he’s trying to suppress gives away that he’s up to something. I smirk, pressing my glass to my lips, and take a sip of my drink. Cold liquid slides down my throat, and I sigh, relaxing into the chair, watching Ava scold her son. I focus on Michael’s best friend, Isla. She’s standing beside him, and her hands are also behind her back. The little girl is unmistakably beautiful—long brown hair collected into two thick braids, deep blue eyes with long dark eyelashes and plump lips. She’s as gorgeous as her mom. She didn’t get a single trait from her equally handsome dad.

“Show me your hands.” Ava seethes. “Both of you.”

Michael and Isla glance at each other, and bursts of laughter spring out of their mouths. Turning around, they both run away from the swimming pool and straight into the house, two water guns still in their hands.

Busted.

I hide my wide grin behind my glass as Ava slumps onto the chair next to me. “Tell me it’ll get easier.”

“It’ll get easier.” I tell her what she wants to hear.

Ava groans and grabs a glass of rosé from the table. “It’s not helping.” She brings the glass to her lips and lowers it without taking a sip. “He’s only six, but sometimes he tests my patience way too hard. I already found one gray hair last week! I’m sure it’s because of all the stress. And Meghan will grow up watching her brother do whatever the hell he wants.”

“Says the saint of all saints,” I comment snarkily. Setting my glass back on the table, I peer at her. “Give him some grace, Ava. Michael is funny, friendly, and sometimes naughty, yes, but he’s kind and smart. He loves his parents and his little sister. Just watch him with Meghan or with Isla, and you’ll see you’re raising a good kid. Stop ripping him a new one every time he acts like a child should. When did you and I ever just sit down and do nothing when our parents were having a party? We were the reason our houses were upside down, not Drake. He’s simply following in your footsteps.”

She studies me with her eyes narrowed, then she exhales dejectedly. “Why are you always right?”

I reach to her and wrap my arm around her shoulder, then pull her into me. “Most of the time, I’m wrong, and you of all people should know that better than anyone.”

Ava chuckles when I say that.

“But if I can help you see things from a different perspective? I’ll always do that for you. Michael and Isla are having fun. Didn’t you see them playing Marco Polo with Nevaeh?”

“I did.” She sneaks a glance at me and whispers, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say my son has a little crush on Nev.”

“Shut up,” I say, blinking at her in surprise. “I thought he liked Isla.”

“They are friends.” Ava confides in me, leaning closer. “Bella and I don’t expect that to change till they’re older. Though maybe even then they will still be just friends. Who knows? Trying to predict what other people do is an impossible task, in all honesty.”

“Yeah,” I mutter. My eyes involuntarily coast toward Clay. To make sure the trajectory of his movements won’t interfere with mine. And damn, I shouldn’t have done that.

Clay stands near the grill. He’s deep in conversation with Drake and Roman, and it would be fine if he wasn’t holding Maya in his arms. Why has she taken such a liking to him?

“Maya likes him,” Ava whispers in my ear. “She spent like twenty minutes with you, while you tried to make her eat, and then she’s either with other kids or with Clay.”

“I noticed that.”

“And I noticed that you two haven’t said a word to each other.”

“We have nothing to talk about.” I shrug, folding my arms over my chest. It’s a damn lie, but I’m not going to admit that.

Ava snorts so loudly that everyone turns their heads in our direction. My gaze clashes with Clay’s, and I look away, pretending to be interested in a magnolia tree. Fuck. This dance we’re doing doesn’t involve eye contact; it’s a forbidden move, and I’m not one to break the rules.

“You have a lot to talk about, Layla. He’s here, and he’s single. Just like you.”

“I overheard him telling Xander about his new neighbor. He said she’s hot.” I pout. In my chest, a little green monster rears its ugly head, making my skin itch. That old companion from my early days…can’t say I missed it.

“Did he say that? Or did he just answer Xander’s question?”

I mull it over for a moment, remembering what I heard, then sigh. “He just answered a question.”

“I shouldn’t tell you this, but…I don’t think he ever had a girlfriend after you.”

I know he didn’t. Well, at least I used to know. Three years is a long time for someone who thought I was moving on without him.

“Even if he didn’t, I’m sure he’s had plenty of girls in his bed.”

Ava leans back. Her eyebrows are pulled together as she stares at me intently. “And you didn’t have any boys in your bed?” she deadpans.

“Not after Eli,” I counter, knowing perfectly well my defense is weak. I have no right to judge Clay for sleeping around. I was doing the same thing after our breakup.

“It’s been two years.”

It’s been more considering Eli didn’t want to have sex with me after I found out I was pregnant, but I don’t dare to correct Ava. She’d pity me, and it’s the last thing I deserve.

I huff, pretending to be annoyed. “My little vibrating friend keeps me from feeling lonely. And, more importantly, its presence in my life doesn’t bring me any complications. My heart is safe.”

“How little are we talking?” The corners of her mouth are trembling as she tries to bottle up her laughter.

Rolling my eyes, I flip her the bird. “It’s none of your business.” Then I shrug and add, “Besides, after all this time, sex is not on my list of priorities for a partner. It might be a great bonus, but it’s definitely not the main ingredient for a happy relationship. Sex with Eli was wild, but he wasn’t suited for the role of husband, and it definitely didn’t make him a good father.”

“I don’t remember you ever complaining about Rodgers back in⁠—”

“Fuck off,” I grit through my teeth.

When I’m about to stand up, Maya appears in front of me. A gleeful smile blossoms on her lips as she climbs on my lap. Her little arms wrap around my neck, and she hides her face in my hair. I press her closer to me, inhaling the sweet scent of cotton candy.

“Everything all right?” I ask her quietly.

Maya rears back, her bright eyes shimmering with excitement. “Yes.” She nods and looks at Ava. “Happy birthday.”

“Aw, thank you, sweetie.” Ava reaches forward and brushes her fingertips over Maya’s cheek. “Did you have fun?”

“I did.”

“Did Michael and Isla play with you? Were they nice?”

“Yes. Isla said I’m cute.” Maya smiles sheepishly, pressing her cheek to my chest.

“You are the cutest,” Ava says, grinning. “If Michael ever doesn’t want to play with you, tell me, and I’ll make sure he remembers that he was a kid once too.”

“Uncle Drake and Clay told me that too.”

I swallow my nerves. “They told you what?”

“They told me they would make Michael and Isla play with me.” Her cheeks redden. “Clay promised to play with me too.”

Ava puts her glass on the table and sets her elbows on her knees as she leans forward. “Tell me, sweetie, do you like Clay?”

“I do.” Maya blushes even more, holding Ava’s gaze. “He’s nice.”

Unwelcome tears veil my eyes, and I turn my head to look up at the sky so Maya doesn’t notice. Such a big heart my sweet little girl has. She always knows when I’m upset, even if I’m trying to hide it from her. She always knows when her mom is having a bad day. It warms my heart, but it also bugs me immensely. The last thing I want is for her to worry about me, but sometimes I fail, and later I feel like the biggest loser. It’s my job to worry about her needs and her happiness, and when the roles get reversed, it irritates me. That’s not how it should be.

I need to be strong for her.

She’s all I have.

Maya starts climbing off my lap, and I let her. I didn’t hear a thing Ava said; I was too deep in my own head, falling down my own personal rabbit hole.

“Where are you going?” I ask Maya.

Her brows knit together, and confusion colors her face. “I’ll go play with Michael. He and Isla are there.” She points her finger at the swings, where the kids are sitting.

“Okay, just be careful.” I lightly tug on one of her pigtails, and she takes off, running as fast as she can. Once Michael has helped her onto the swing between him and Isla, I focus on Ava. “Every morning, I start with a little wish for her to be happy. And every morning, I worry that I’m not doing enough.”

“Layla.” Ava covers my palm with hers. “You are the strongest, bravest girl I know. You are raising Maya alone, and she’s wonderful. You’re doing everything right.”

“I hope so,” I whisper.

With a deep breath, I put my head on Ava’s shoulder. Coasting my gaze around the backyard, I watch Angie, Nevaeh, and Bella sitting on sun loungers and talking. Their laughter reaches us and makes my skin warmer. I turn my head, noticing Colton with Meghan in his arms. He’s talking to Xander, who holds his son, Ian. Both men smile, not bothered at all by looking after their kids.

Why couldn’t Eli be like that? All he ever did whenever I asked him to look after Maya was give an annoyed huff, even if I needed only a few minutes so I could hop into the shower. Or when he was coming home at the crack of dawn after partying all night and was getting angry with me when Maya’s cries were disturbing his sleep. What kind of mother are you? he’d ask. Why is she always crying when I’m home? Don’t you know how to handle her? Derogatory comments, belittling me for anything I did wrong in his opinion. After Maya’s birth, things changed so drastically between us…I stopped recognizing him. And he stopped loving me.

I became a burden.

Maya became an inconvenience.

We became something he wanted to have nothing to do with, and so he left.

I bite my bottom lip hard and bring my attention back to the grill, where Drake is still talking to Roman and Clay. A pang pierces my heart, and I grind my teeth together. I can pretend as long as I want that this thought never crossed my mind. And I’d never say it aloud, even to Ava.

But there’s another question I replace myself asking more and more since the moment I found out about Clay’s transfer to the Thunders.

What would it be like if she were his?