I swallow hard, blinking at him in astonishment. “That was quite the speech.”

Ryker’s arms go around me and he pulls me in tight. Our faces are so close I almost go cross-eyed trying to keep his gaze. His voice is measured. Clipped. Finite. “I. Do. Not. Want. Hensley.”

I hold my breath, my nerves quivering.

“I want you,” he breathes out just before he kisses me.

A sigh releases into his mouth just before I give him my tongue. I kiss him slowly, my arms tucked in tight so all I can do is press my palms to his chest as he holds me.

He pulls back and looks at me. “Okay?”

I nod with a smile. “I want you too.”

“Good,” he says, and leans in to kiss me again.

But I push back at him, pressing my palms harder against his chest. He looks at me curiously. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be there for you physically all the time, but emotionally, I’m there for you one hundred percent of the time. I wish I could have been there for you when Ruby was hurt.”

“You were,” he tells me, pulling me into his body. My cheek goes to his chest and I snuggle in tight. “You came to see me and that meant a lot.”

I hesitate, because I’m not sure I really want to know the answer, but I decide I need to know what I’m facing. “Did Zack and Kate see us?”

“Yeah. Zack confronted me about it.”

“And what did you say?”

“I tried to blow him off but he’s a persistent fucker. But he won’t say anything, so you don’t have to worry.”

And I realize…I’m not. If Ryker says I can trust Zack, then I do.

Because I trust Ryker.

Chapter 19

Ryker

The lights come on in the team meeting room and I blink against the harshness for a moment. A team’s work is never done because we flew in from Chicago this morning and went right to the arena to review game film. Coach Pretore is not in a good mood because we got our asses handed to us yesterday.

Normally, I’m very studious during film review. I’m always looking for ways in which I can improve, and I’ll be presented later with an edited and spliced digital with just my saves and goals scored against me so I can analyze myself individually.

Coach Pretore walks to the center of the room and looks around at us. “Now, we have three home games coming up this week. Wednesday against Pittsburgh, Friday against Toronto, and then the Chicago Bobcats come down here to our turf. Three very good teams, and I expect to win against every single one of them, and do you know why that is?”

Utter silence. One can only guess at Coach’s reasoning sometimes, but he never keeps us in the dark.

“I expect wins because this is one of the most talented teams I’ve ever coached. We’ve got the backing of the best executives in the league.”

A snort comes from the back of the room and I don’t even have to turn my head to know that was Claude making his feelings known.

“We have the best scouts, the best trainers, and the best fans,” Coach continues, choosing to ignore Claude. “We have all the tools, and on paper, we look mighty fucking good.”

“That’s right,” someone else says behind me, and a few guys voice their approval.

“But we are missing something. And even though we just watched over an hour of condensed film, you’re not going to find what’s missing on that screen up there.” Coach jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “You won’t see it on film but you will find it sitting in this room. I hope it’s still in this room, because frankly, I’m not sure. I need you to get your heads out of your asses and find it fast. If you guys want a chance at the Cup, you better find it now.”

He turns and starts to walk toward the door. He doesn’t tell us what’s missing. He wants us to figure it out, and he wants us to do it without him.

He’s making us talk this out as a team.

When the entire coaching staff is gone and the door is closed, the room is silent for a moment. Then Alex, as our team’s captain, stands up and walks to the front of the room. “What are we missing?” he asks simply. I can tell by the tone of his voice he knows what it is.

“Determination,” Pavel Alogrin says. He’s new to the team. One of Gray’s acquisitions.

“Consistency,” another guy says.

Around the room, people call out their thoughts.

Skills. Teamwork. Communication.

“Unification,” I say, and Alex’s eyes snap to mine.

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong,” I hear Claude say behind me, so I turn in my chair to look at him. He stands up, almost relishing the entire team listening to him. “Our problem is our leadership. We have someone calling shots that’s inept and wants us to follow along blindly.”

Several players nod and this is disconcerting to me. I want to jump to Gray’s defense but I hold my tongue. I’m terrified that something I say will give me away, and that’s a distinct possibility. I’m so consumed by her I can’t take the chance of revealing it in a mere slip of a word.

“You just don’t like the fact a woman is managing this organization,” Zack says, and I turn to look at him in surprise. His voice is tight and itching for an argument.

“Yeah, I don’t like that she’s a woman,” Claude says, his lip curled up in a sneer. “And I’m not the only one. There is a reason women are not a part of this league, and it’s because they cannot understand the game on our level because they don’t play it on our level. And she wants to come in here with her spreadsheets and make recommendations on who stays or who goes…It’s bullshit and it’s tearing this team apart.”