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“Hmm. Until they’re not. What’s your contract? A couple thousand bucks for a few weeks?”
Basically, but I wasn’t telling him that because I knew where he was going. Novek’s contract was twenty-eight million dollars for three years. So mine was…less.
“This sucks,” I said. “I’m doing good work and he’s being a baby.”
And a bully. But again, I wasn’t going there with Dillon.
“Yep.”
“So? What do I do?”
“You could quit,” he suggested.
“Are you shitting me?” I tried to get up off the couch and his thigh, but he held me down.
“Stop. Hear me out. The team wouldn’t announce it until you got another job. A better one,” he said. “Me and Coach could put in a few words for you with other coaches around the league. Minor league teams with less drama.”
“This is because you want to sleep with me?” I snapped, absolutely vibrating with rage.
“No. Well, I mean, yes, it would certainly be helpful in that regard, but I’m trying to think of you and your future.”
“The future of your dick, maybe.”
“Liv-”
“Do you think I’m a quitter?” I said, my jaw tight, my eyes spitting fire. I’d never been so offended in my life.
He looked at me for a long moment and then sighed. “No,” he said. “I know you’re not. I’ve known you for a handful of days and I can see you’re a force of nature. You won’t stop. You’re going to run face first into any challenge.”
“Damn right I am,” I snapped.
He frowned. “I’m just worried you’ll push him too hard and he’ll hurt you without even trying.”
“He won’t get me fired,” I said, and I believed that. Mostly. Maybe.
“You know how bullies are. Push them and they push back. I’m also scared of what he might do on the ice.”
“Is this about my head injury? I can’t spend my life hoping I don’t get hit in the head again, Dillon. It took a lot of time, but I’ve let that fear go. I had to or it was going to take over my life.”
I relaxed back on the couch, my leg over his. He reached over and pinched my chin between his two fingers. I should have stopped him, but his touch felt so good.
“It was that bad?”
“No one likes the nitty gritty, dark part of the story,” I told him as a way to warn him off. “Everyone wants the overcoming all obstacles music montage.”
“I hate music montages,” he said and I laughed.
Only he didn’t laugh, and maybe that more than anything, convinced me he was taking me seriously. Let me know it was safe to open up to him.
“I almost didn’t make it. They put me in a coma and had to drain fluid from my brain three times. No one knew if I would wake up, and if I did, if I would be…functional or even…me.”
He cupped my face, running his thumb along my cheek. I should remind him about the rules, but we were in Siberia, and I’d been so cold for so long.
His touch felt like summer. It felt like stepping out onto the ice after a long recovery.
“I didn’t watch the video,” he said. “I didn’t want to see you get hurt like that.”
I shook my head. “Please don’t. I’m sure it’s not pleasant. My family wouldn’t let me see it either.”
