I stared.
It was beautiful in a way that made my small apartment feel even more temporary than it already did. All glass and steel and wood, lit from within so I could see the open floor plan, the high ceilings, the attention to detail that suggested serious money had gone into this place. The mountains rose behind it, dark shapes against the star-filled sky, and I could see the lights of Denver spread out in the valley below us.
“You live here?” The words came out before I could stop them.Stupid inane question.
“Yes.” He pulled into the garage and killed the engine. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”
I followed him inside in a daze, my bag still slung over my shoulder. The garage opened into a mudroom that was bigger than my apartment. Beyond that was the kitchen—all granite and stainless steel, professional-grade appliances that looked like they’d never been used.
And then the great room.
I stopped in the doorway, taking it in. Floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the valley. Exposed beams in the ceiling. A fireplace that made the place look even bigger.
“This is...” I trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence.
“Too much for one person,” Kincaid said, and there was something self-deprecating in his tone. “I know. I bought it for the privacy and the land, not the house.”
I turned to look at him, and he was standing in the kitchen doorway watching me with an expression I couldn’t read. The copper had completely faded from his eyes now, replaced by something that looked almost uncertain.
“Why am I here?” I asked. “Really. What’s going on that made you follow me home?”
He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes holding mine across the vast space of that beautiful, empty room. Then he said, “Because you’re important to me. And because I’ve been lying to both of us for two months about why I need to keep you at a distance.”
My heart was suddenly hammering against my ribs. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” he said slowly, like each word was being dragged out of him, “that we need to talk. Really talk. About things I should have told you weeks ago.”
He moved into the great room, gesturing toward the couch. “Sit. Please. This is going to take a while.”
I didn’t sit.
I stood there in that beautiful, empty room with my bag still over my shoulder, watching him struggle with whatever he was trying to say. The silence stretched between us, heavy with two months of careful distance and professional boundaries that were apparently about to shatter.
“I’m attracted to you,” he said finally, and the words hit me like a physical blow. “I have been since the moment you stepped onto my ice. And I’ve been fighting it every single day because I’m your coach and getting involved with you could destroy everything you’ve worked for.”
My breath caught. “What?”
He moved closer, his eyes intense on mine. “Antoine was your boyfriend. Or something close to it. I’m guessing that’s true based on what I’ve seen, what I’ve heard from Chicago contacts. And I’m guessing that when you got good—when you started to become a threat to his position—he made sure your career suffered for it.”
The accuracy of that statement made my stomach drop. “How did you—"
“Because I’ve seen it before. Because I know how these things work when there’s a power imbalance and someone gets threatened.” His jaw tightened. “If we get involved, Dante, and if the press finds out—your career is over. Every decision I make regarding you will be scrutinized. Every shift I give you, every opportunity, every word of praise—it’ll all be seen through the lens of our relationship. Other players will accuse you of sleeping your way onto the first line. Management might force one of us out. I can’t—I won’t let what I want put you in that position.”
I stared at him, pieces clicking into place. “That’s why you said no. Sunday night, when I tried to kiss you. It wasn’t because you didn’t want to.”
“Christ, no.” His voice was rough. “I wanted to. I’ve wanted to every single day since you got here. But wanting something and being able to have it are two very different things.”
“So what changed?” I asked. “Why tell me this now? Why bring me here?”
“Because watching Odin Clark put his hands on you made me realize that protecting your career doesn’t mean anything ifI can’t actually protect you.” His hands curled into fists at his sides. “Because distance hasn’t kept you safe. It’s just made us miserable.”
My heart was racing. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I don’t have an answer. I’m saying this is impossible and complicated and could ruin both of us. I’m saying that every logical reason I have for staying away from you is still valid.” He took a step closer. “And I’m also saying that I can’t watch you go out with someone else. Can’t pretend I don’t care. Can’t keep lying about what you mean to me.”
I dropped my bag. It hit the floor with a thud that echoed in the vast space.
“So you’re scared,” I said slowly. “Not of me. Not of us. You’re scared of what other people will do if they find out.”
