Match Penalty: Coach’s Daughter Hockey Romance (The Rookie Hawkeyes Series Book 1)

The arena feels emptier at night without a home game going on, like all the energy and life have been sucked out, leaving nothing but echoes and shadows. I sit at my desk, staring at the dark ice below, remembering how just six days ago, JP was down there celebrating his win, looking at me like I was his entire world.

What a difference a few days can make.

My phone sits face-down beside my laptop, silent but somehow still screaming at me to pick it up and make another call to the man, who I know, won’t answer. I’ve been trying to focus on auction details all evening, but my mind keeps drifting to JP, to our confrontation in the hallway two days ago, to the way he’s been avoiding me at practice.

A knock on my door startles me from my thoughts.

‘You’re still here?’ Brynn asks, leaning against the doorframe. She’s got Milo on her hip, his little head resting against her shoulder. ‘Seven sent me to grab his playbook before Milo and I head home from mommy and me class. He forgot it after practice, and then I saw the lights on up here.’

‘Yeah, just…’ I gesture vaguely at my laptop. ‘Work.’

She studies me for a moment, then sets Milo down. He immediately toddles over to my desk, reaching for the stress ball I keep there. I grab it and hand it to him. He squeals with delight and tosses it across the room and then chases after it.

‘Have you heard from him?’ she asks softly.

I shake my head. ‘Radio silence since our confrontation. I thought maybe…’ I trail off, not wanting to admit how many times I’ve checked my phone.

‘Maybe it’s time to try again,’ she suggests. ‘One last time, and then…’

‘And then what?’ I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. ‘Accept that I fell for Jon Paul Dumont’s charm a second time, and as soon as he got what he wanted, he bailed? Same player—same playbook.’

Milo runs to me and throws the stress ball, and it bounces off my computer screen. The gentle thud feels like punctuation to my words. I grab the ball as it settles into place and hand it back to him, and then off he goes again.

‘And then closure,’ Brynn says, her arms cradling my dad’s binder between her arms. ‘Dumont is a good player, but your father is better and he only has to make one goal. The odds aren’t in JP’s favor. You know that right?’

I think about the auction, about the bet, about everything hanging in the balance, including my job when Everett and Coach Haynes realize that my dad sent away the only healthy goalie that the Hawkeyes have. ‘Yeah, I do.’

‘If there’s anything left that you need to air out with JP before he inevitably leaves, you should do it. And you should do it now.’

I think about it for a moment and then I realize that there is a question I want to know. ‘I just want to know what I ever did to him to deserve this.’

‘Then ask him Cammy. Because by next week, who knows where he’ll land? You may never see him again.’

‘Promise?’ I say bitterly. The truth is that the NHL is too small to hope that I’ll never see him again.

Brynn lifts an eyebrow as if she’s not buying it and then we say our goodbyes before she leaves with Seven’s playbook and a sleeping Milo against her shoulder.

I find myself staring at my phone again. The office feels too quiet, too still, like the whole world is holding its breath.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I pick up the phone and dial JP’s number. My heart pounds as it rings once, twice…

‘Hello?’

I still. The voice that answers isn’t JP’s. It’s a woman, causing my stomach to drop instantly. I pull the phone away from my ear quickly to make sure I didn’t hit send to the wrong contact, but the name Jon Paul is listed as the caller on the other side.

‘Um, hi,’ I manage, my throat tight. ‘Is this… JP’s phone?’ I ask, just for good measure. Maybe the phone lines got crossed.

‘Yes, this is Angelica.’ Her tone is pleasant, but there’s almost a knowing tilt to it. ‘JP’s in the shower right now. This is Cammy, right?’

The world tilts sideways. Blood rushes in my ears, drowning out everything except those words: JP’s in the shower.

‘I’m sorry to have interrupted, I didn’t know—’

‘Wait, don’t hang up,’ Angelica says quickly. ‘I think we should talk—’

I hang up before she can finish, the phone slipping from my fingers onto the desk. The sound it makes seems too loud in the sudden silence of my office.

Angelica.

She’s there. With him. While he’s in the shower.

Did he break things off with me to get back with her?

The signs were there, and I ignored them. I let him charm his way back in just like he had done the first time.

And now, here I am again, cutting myself on the same sharp edges.

I grab my keys and bag, needing to get out of this office, away from the memories, away from the evidence of how stupid I’ve been. The drive to Brynn’s is a blur, streetlights smearing together through tears I refuse to let fall.

She opens the door before I can knock, one look at my face telling her everything she needs to know.

‘What happened?’ she asks, pulling me inside.

‘Angelica answered his phone,’ I say, my voice cracking as I try to hold back tears. The words taste like ash. ‘He’s with her. Again.’

Brynn leads me to the couch, her hand warm against my arm. ‘Maybe it’s not what you think—’

‘What else could it be?’ I cut her off. I shouldn’t snap at her, she’s done nothing wrong. ‘She said he was in the shower, Brynn. In the shower. Just like…’ I can’t finish the sentence.

‘Okay,’ she says softly. ‘But—’noveldrama

‘No.’ I stand up, unable to sit still. ‘No buts. No maybes. No more excuses for him. I’m done.’

‘Cammy—’

‘He made his choice,’ I say, pacing the length of her living room. ‘Again. And you know what? Fine. Let him have her. Let him have whatever he wants. But if he stays, I go. I can’t be in the stadium with him.’

The thought of leaving the only real home I’ve ever known is painful, but staying and being in the same building with him—knowing that he could throw me away a second time so easily and seeing her in his seats wearing his jersey—is the kind of chronic ache I just can’t live with. My heart will die a slow and torturous death.

Understanding dawns on Brynn’s face. ‘The auction bet.’

‘No matter the outcome, one of us leaves.’ My voice sounds foreign to my own ears, cold and hard. ‘Three shots and then it’s over.’

‘Are you sure about this?’ Brynn asks carefully. ‘Once you make this decision—’

‘I’ve never been more sure of anything.’ I stop pacing, meeting her eyes. ‘He made the rules, I’m just finally playing the same game.’

The short drive home feels different somehow, like I’ve crossed a line I can’t uncross. But as I park in the underground parking garage of The Commons, I feel something settle in my chest. Not peace, exactly, but certainty.

JP Dumont has broken my heart for the last time.