Talk Hockey to Me (Bears Hockey #3) - Kelly Jamieson Page 0,45

her chin. “Yes. You’re right.” She sets down her fork. “I think I’m ready to go now.”

I stare at her for a few seconds. The air around us is heavy. “Okay. Sure.”

I catch the waitress’s eye and take care of the check, then we leave. Out on the street, Kate walks briskly.

“Kate.”

She doesn’t stop. “What?”

“You’re going the wrong way.”

She halts. Her head goes back as she looks skyward. “Seriously?”

“Um, yeah.”

She lets out a little growl, turns and marches back toward me, then past me.

It’d be funny, except she’s pissed and I’m pissed and this isn’t the time to tease her about her bad sense of direction. So I catch up to her.

Neither of us say much until we get to her place. She stops at her door. “Thank you for dinner.” She looks up and meets my eyes. The reserve there feels like a punch in the gut. “I think it would be better if we keep our relationship business from here on.”

Now, I’m really pissed. I cross my arms and my back teeth grind together. I’m afraid I’m going to say something I’ll regret, so I snap, “No.”

Her eyebrows fly up. “What?”

“No.” I scowl. “We’re both angry. Let’s call it a night and sleep on things and talk tomorrow.”

Her lips pinch together and she stares at me like she can’t believe I’m saying that. Finally, she says, “Okay. Fine. Good night, Hunter.”

“Night.”

I make sure she gets into her building, then turn and stalk down the sidewalk. My hands curl into fists and my shoulders hunch up around my ears.

Shit.

Fuck.

Damn.

My gut feels like there’s a boulder lodged in it. I drive home, yelling at the traffic and impatiently changing lanes. When I get there, Hakim is out, thankfully, so I can slam things around in the apartment, like the door when I stomp inside and the fridge door after I grab a beer.

Slouched on the couch, I stare out the big windows at the glittering view of Manhattan across the river.

Goddammit.

Now I’m thinking about Josh and Easton. I don’t want to think about them. I’ve avoided thinking about them for years and it’s been working fine.

I knew I should have tried to go see Josh in the hospital after the accident, but I just couldn’t. Hell, I couldn’t get out of bed some days. And Easton…well, he’d clearly moved on.

If I don’t get that contract I deserve, everything I’ve done up till now is a waste. If I don’t get that contract, I’ll be back where I started—my life and career fucked up.

Just because Kate’s my agent doesn’t give her the right to tell me what to do with my life. I can fuck things up well enough on my own. And I know that playing for the Bears will fuck me up. I know what’s best for me. I’ve made it this far—through college, into the NHL, and now I’m right on the edge of signing the kind of contract I want—I can’t relapse.

She wants to keep our relationship business. So what? Now we can’t even be friends?

I feel like I just took a hard cross check. I groan and lean my head back onto the cushions.

Was it a mistake signing with Kate as my agent? I wanted her because I know she’s good at what she does.

No. That’s not the only reason. I could find a bunch of good agents if that was all I wanted. I wanted her. It’s always been more than friendship with her. She gets me. In college, she was the one person I could confide in, and not be looked at differently. When Vern had his heart attack and I worried about losing him, she was who I needed. Kate.

And yet, for the first time it seems like she doesn’t really understand me. That’s why I’m so angry. Okay, I guess I’m actually more hurt than angry. Goddammit.

I can’t fire her. I need her. I need a contract. And like she pointed out when we first met, there’s more to the player-agent relationship than contracts. My agent is part of my life. And…fuck it, I want it to be her. I don’t want to fire her.

Doing that would be the shittiest douchehole move in the history of doucheholes.

Or maybe I am a douchehole anyway. Because…fuck…I care about her. And I don’t want to lose her.

14

Kate

I’m doing my job. The job he hired me to do. And he questions my judgment?

That stung when he said I should know better. That this was about his