My hands tighten around my stick. No, that can’t be right. Two years collapse into one violent second. Rockford. The hot tub. Her laugh in the dark. The empty bed when I woke up.
“Maxwell Stevens,” she says, focus still on her tablet. “Still leading the league in unnecessary roughness?”
Seeing her hollows me out in a single, brutal heartbeat. For months, she was a ghost I couldn't track down anywhere. But what kills me is how effortless she seems. While I’ve been drowning, she appears like she hasn’t missed a single night of sleep. The grin slips clean off my face. I’m staring as if I forgot how oxygen works, and I can’t stop.
“Uh … not a guy,” Fuze whispers.
She steps in like she owns the place. Holding a clipboard, plus a tablet. Sharp green eyes sweep the room, counting idiots. “Morning, gentlemen. I’m Antonia Amato. You guys can call me Toni, if that’s easier for your caveman tongues.” She flips a page. “I’m here to review the officials’ conditioning protocols and a special assignment. Try not to faint at the sight of organization.”
Tape dangles half-wrapped from my fingers. My mouth won’t close like an almost dead fish gasping for air.
Anthony elbows me. “Still breathing, Romeo?”
I ignore him, but he helps shake off the shock.Right now, all I want is to fuck with her, catch her off guard like she’s done to me.“So you’re the Toni who’s been emailing the team. Hell of a prank, makin’ us think you were a dude.”
Her brow arches. “Disappointed I don’t have chest hair?”
The room explodes. I lean in, my grin creeping back, remembering her feisty attitude in and out of bed. “Didn’t say that, sweetheart.”
Her voice remains flat. “Don’t call me sweetheart unless you’re about to pass out on my table. And if you do, I’ll let the rookie handle you.” The guys lose it. Trey nearly chokes on his protein shake.
Anthony hides his smile behind a bottle. “Poor bastard never saw it coming.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Guess I deserved that.”
“You guessed right,” Toni says, jotting a note.
“I thought they only called you in when the refs broke." I tilt my head and squint.
“I’m here because the league decided high-risk players need oversight. Guess who made the list?”
I bark a laugh. “High-risk? Babe, I’m a public service. Keeps the other teams honest.”
“Public nuisance, more like.” She taps her clipboard. “Your last three games: two fighting majors, a boarding call, and a high stick that nearly took out a rookie’s eyebrows. The NHL wants behavioral compliance. Guess who gets to monitor it?”
My grin widens. “So you’re my new warden? Careful, Toni. I look good in handcuffs.”
Her eyes narrow, but there’s color in her cheeks. “Keep talking, Max. Every word gets added to your file. Your existence qualifies as preventative maintenance. You’re my special assignment, lucky me,” she shoots back. The locker room howls.
I run a hand through my hair. “So what, you gonna bench me?”
“If I could, I would,” she says, tapping her tablet. “But apparently the League still lets you play as long as you stay out of jail. But practices are my domain.”
“Guess I’ll see you in sin bin, Toni,” I answer, leaning back with a reckless grin and a pop of my brows. “You can bring ice packs and judgment.”
The corner of her mouth twitches. Not quite a smile.“Oh, I’ll bring the judgment,” she promises, crossing her arms. “But you’ll have to beg for the ice packs.” Then she points. “You bring self-control. That’ll be new.” She turns and heads for the tunnel. Her perfume hits as she passes,the same one I smelled on my sheets for a week.
Trey whistles low. “She’s got you clocked.”
All I can do is stare at the door, my ears burning red. “Holy hell,” I mutter. “That’s Toni.”
Anthony grins. “Didn’t see that comin’?”
“Not even close,” I say. “I’m so confused. Am I supposed to be scared or in love?”
“Both,” Trey says, shoving me. “Definitely both.”
“Yeah,” Anthony says, pulling off his gloves. “You seem like you just took a hit you didn’t brace for.”
