Page 83 of Worth the Risk
“There’s a reason for that, honey,” I tell him, my voice quivering. “Woodward might have reached out to friends on Seattle’s coaching staff to really give it to you today. He wants to see you hurt.”
I see the flash of pain cross his eyes. “I don’t know why I’m surprised.”
“I’m worried. My uncle is too.”
“Where is he, anyway? Coach just said he wasn’t traveling this trip.”
I stare at him incredulously. “Luca, Woodward fired my uncle.”
“You’re shitting me!”
“No. Wouldn’t let him get on the plane this morning. We think — we think my aunt has been conspiring with Woodward against the both of you.”
“Jesus, Han. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs as his arms come around me again. He rests his chin against the top of my head as I cling to him.
“I don’t want you to go back out there,” I blurt out.
Luca doesn’t respond for a long moment. “Then let’s go.”
I back away from him, looking up at his beaten face in confusion. “What do you mean?”
He gives me a soft smile. “I’m done with this. Hockey. It’s no longer fun. I don’t even view it as a job anymore. I’m exhausted, and everything hurts. But worse than that is how it has impacted you. I just want to be with you, Pixie. I don’t want hockey to pull us apart.”
“It won’t pull us apart. I’ll support you with playing, if that’s what you want to do,” I tell him.
“That’s the thing. I don’t want to be apart from you. Ever. I want to go to sleep with you in my arms and wake up next to you. I want to cook dinner together, and talk about our days. I don’t want to FaceTime you from a couple thousand miles away, then be so fucking depressed at missing you that I can’t function. I’m not sad about being done. It’s time. What have I told you more than once?”
A smile grows on my face as I remember his words. “That I’m worth the risk.”
“You are, baby. So let’s get the fuck out of here. I want to go home.”
As Luca starts removing his gear, I stop him. “Wait! Won’t you get fined?”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s a stupid low number for leaving a game.”
“Ten thousand bucks,” Ben pipes up from the doorway.
I whirl to Luca. “That’s not a low number!”
Luca laughs. “Baby, I made seven million dollars last season. I can afford ten grand.”
My mouth drops open. “Seven — seven million?”
He nods.
“And that was for one season?”
“Yep.”
“And you’ve been playing for how many seasons now?”
He laughs. “Quite a few. We’re set, baby.”
I nibble on my lip, my mind whirling with thoughts.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Pix?”
“Aren’t you worried I’m only after your money?”