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

Picking out dresses on this Friday afternoon with the girls is exactly what I need after everything. The French style decor of the boutique pulls me out of the hockey world I’ve felt like I’ve been drowning in for the last couple of days, waiting impatiently for JP to text me back and explain what the hell happened at Oakley’s that night.

‘At least try the black one, too,’ Penelope insists, passing me another dress through the fitting room curtain.

I catch my reflection in the mirror, fingers tracing the small bruise near my hairline, the cut is already smaller. The mark has faded to a yellowish green, barely visible unless you know where to look, but the memory of that night at Oakley’s plays in my mind like a movie I can’t stop watching.

One moment, I was on top of the world. JP’s jersey hung perfectly across my shoulders, his number on my back feeling like a claim, a promise. His hand rested warm and sure against my lower back as he guided me to the table. The kiss he dropped on my head in front of everyone made my heart soar, the sensation between my thighs of where he took me in the broom closet less than an hour earlier still deliciously tingling from the friction.

After all these years between us, of fighting the pull, the attraction neither of us could deny—and then the night when it all went wrong a year and a half ago—it all was leading up to that night at Oakley’s, and no one was more ready for it than me.

Our plan was simple: make an appearance, celebrate with the team, and then we’d leave. The dinner date he’d been asking me out on for years was finally going to happen, and I couldn’t have been more ready.

Then Oliver Garcia walked in, and I should have known the minute that I saw him that it was a bad omen for our future plans. Only minutes later, everything blew up—everything happened so fast.

The memory floods back, sharp and clear.

I reached them just as the first shove happened. JP immediately pushed me behind him, protective instinct taking over. But there were too many people, too much movement. Someone’s elbow caught my temple as they lunged past, sending me stumbling into a table corner.

The pain was sharp but brief—more surprising than anything. But my dad’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade: ‘Cammy!’

Before I could process what was happening, Brynn was pulling me toward the door, Seven’s orders ringing in my ears: ‘Get her home. Now.’

I tried to look back, to catch JP’s eye, but the last thing I saw was his face—blood on his lip, expression torn between reaching for me and calming down the crowd—trying to regain order with Oakley and the other Hawkeyes players.

‘You okay in there?’ Brynn calls out, pulling me from the memory.

‘Yeah,’ I manage, though I’m anything but okay. The black dress slides on easier than the green one, but it feels wrong. Everything feels wrong. That dinner we never got to have hanging over me like a ghost of what could have been. His lack of correspondence, besides the text he sent before I got back to Brynn’s and saw it, might be the most painful of all.

What happened to the JP who sent me countless texts and voicemails after he got bailed out of the jail after the accident? The one who did everything to get my attention—to win me back—only to fold so quickly just because of a little fight at the bar? He’s a hockey player for Christ’s sake. Of course, there are going to be occasional fights—mostly on the ice, but still.

Something just doesn’t add up.

Nothing makes sense.

When I step out, Aria whistles low. ‘Damn, girl.’

‘The bruise is barely visible now,’ Penelope notes, studying my reflection.

‘Unlike JP’s absence,’ Aria mutters, earning an elbow from Brynn. ‘He still hasn’t responded to your texts from two nights ago?’

I blow out a breath as I stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling three-way mirrors in front of the girls, most of whom have already chosen their dresses. I got here late, trying to get the last people on the donor list confirmed for tickets. With the auction coming up, it’s crunch time. Thankfully, at least at work, I’m so busy that I barely think of JP and our fall out. ‘Nope. I’ve left text messages and voicemails, and he hasn’t returned a single one. I knocked on his door the night that Brynn dropped me back off at my apartment once my dad was satisfied. I didn’t have a concussion, but he either wasn’t back from the bar, or he was ignoring me. I’m not sure which one is worse.’

One of the other doors to the dressing room opens and Kendall walks out fully dressed with the gown she picked out slung over her arm. It’s perfect for her, and it was a unanimous vote from all of us when we saw it on her. ‘Okay, so basically he texted you to end things before you even made it back to Brynn’s and now, he’s ghosting you?’ Kendall asks.

She wasn’t at yesterday’s Serendipity’s lunch break where I filled everyone in on the events that had happened four days ago.

‘That about sums it up.’ I tell her.

She hands her dress to the saleswoman to hold for her while she waits for Aria and me to pick out our dresses, and then takes a seat next to Penelope. ‘You haven’t seen him at work yet?’ she asks.

I pause for a second, staring back at myself, unable to think of anything else besides if this dress is enough to bring JP to his knees and realize he made a mistake. ‘No… I’ve seen him. Kind of…’ I say.

‘You’re thinking about practice this morning, aren’t you?’ Brynn asks softly. I already texted her about it during my lunch break.

I am. The memory of watching from the corporate offices as JP ran drills with Seven earlier this morning, the tension between them visible even from three stories up. Though I couldn’t hear them, my dad’s instructions seemed clipped, professional, but lacking their usual encouragement, and his body language seemed more rigid than usual. JP’s movement almost seemed mechanical—robotic— in a way I’ve never seen before. Like he had no heart in practice at all. As if going through the motions, yet he was still blocking almost every shot.

‘He won’t even look at me. He saw me standing at the window today during practice and looked away just as quickly.’ I admit, the words burning my throat. ‘When I went down to drop off paperwork for Coach Haynes, he walked past me as if he’s trying to avoid me even at work. As if I need more ways to be rejected.’

‘Men are idiots,’ Aria declares on the other side of her changing room door, but Penelope shakes her head.

‘I don’t disagree with that statement, but I think there’s more to this. We’ve all seen the way that JP looks at you. And he’s been relentless with his efforts to get you to see him differently after the whole fiasco in San Diego. Slade’s mentioned some things too…’ she says with hesitation as if maybe she shouldn’t be saying anything.

‘What do you mean Slade mentioned some things to you? Like what?’

‘Nothing specific, unfortunately… and trust me, I shook that man like a fruit tree trying to get it out of him. In the bedroom, it’s usually easy to break him but he wouldn’t give much up this time. He said that the conversations that he’s had with JP would suggest that not even hockey would stand in the way of him winning you back,’ Penelope says.

‘Aww,’ Aria fawns, the sound of a taffeta fabric rustling around as she pulls on another dress of her own.

Penelope’s intel from Slade only serves to further increase my frustration over all of this.

‘If that’s true then why did he fold so easily? Why did he send the text about ending things between us after only a small scuffle with an old Hawkeyes rival at a bar? He couldn’t have waited to see me in person so he could explain this to me? He didn’t think I deserved to be told in person after everything we’ve been through? This is the second time he’s done this to me. And he’s acting as if Brynn took me to the ER and that he did something to cause this. The cut wasn’t even that deep. Brynn patched it up in five minutes.’

‘Yes, the hit you took didn’t send you to the ER, but it was bad enough to scare the hell out of JP,’ Aria points out, coming out with a dress slung over her arm. The first dress she tried on that everyone loved. ‘You should have seen his face when he saw Seven at your side.’

Brynn lips crinkle at one corner as she thinks hard about it. ‘We’re missing something here. There’s some kind of influence causing him to make this decision, and if he’s already told Slade that hockey won’t keep him from you, what other options do we have?’

We all fall silent for a moment, but no one comes up with an idea. Or at least not one they are willing to offer up for conversation.

Finally, Penelope clears her throat. ‘Well, all I know is that he needs to man up and speak to you face to face. You deserve a full explanation for why he thinks he’s protecting you by staying away. I hate to say it, but if he’s never at home and he won’t answer your texts or calls, you’re going to have to have it out with him after practice.’

Her idea has me cringing. The last thing I want to do is show up after practice with everyone around to hear our conversation. As if getting dumped before our relationship ever started, for yet a second time, and having the entire Hawkeyes team witness it, isn’t bad enough. Now she wants me to show up and spill my guts in front of people I have to face every day at work?

Unfortunately, she’s right. JP is leaving me no other choice than to get answers the old-fashioned way: in person.

I turn back to the mirror, sliding my hands down the black silk gown. It’s gorgeous but it doesn’t feel quite right. ‘Yeah, well, he made his feelings clear enough with that text,” I say before rereading the text. “That’s it—no other explanation—and then two days of silence.’

I glance over at the dress that Brynn pulled for me earlier. An emerald green dress that Jessica Rabbit would surely approve of. Everything about it screams revenge dress—it’s plunging neckline, corseted, mostly sheer bodice with perfectly placed nipple coverage, and just the right amount of delicate beading to make it shimmer under these lights.

‘At least the auction is coming up. He’ll have a hard time ignoring you then,’ Kendall says.

I bite my upper lip and decide that a bold gown might be exactly what I need. ‘I’m going to try on one last dress.’

Brynn jumps up immediately. ‘Here, you’re going to need help with that zipper,’ she follows me to the changing room and then turns to the rest of the group before closing the door behind us. ‘Our appointment time is almost up. Why don’t you girls go ahead and check out with your dresses. We’ll show you this one once it’s on.’

They all agree and stand, Aria with a revenge dress of her own that had Penelope’s smile turning wicked. I’ve seen her working up some kind of match making scheme. But who does she have in mind for Aria?

I don’t get a chance to think too long on it before Brynn shuts the door behind us. I can tell she’s listening for all the girls to walk away.

We both know she has something she wants to discuss with me in private because I can do just fine with the zipper on my own.

Once she seems satisfied that no one else is in ear shot, she keeps her voice low enough that it doesn’t echo.

‘The auction’s in one more week,’ she says, making a circle with her finger to tell me to turn around. ‘Are you ready for the slapshot challenge?’

I spin around, giving her my back. ‘You mean am I ready to watch JP let my father ruin his career, by causing JP to drop his PTO contract?’ I ask.

Now I know why she wanted alone time. Penelope still doesn’t know that my dad’s bet might single handedly cause the Hawkeyes to lose their new goalie before their other goalie is even cleared to come back.

‘Yes, the bet. How are you going to feel if your dad wins and JP leaves?’ she asks, unzipping me out of the black dress and carefully lets me step out before turning to set it back on its hanger.

I let the thought of that sit for a moment as I pull the other dress from its hanger, and I step into it.

‘I’m not sure. I need answers from him before I know what I want. I’m tired of all his secrets. I need to know the truth… about everything. But if he’s going to make a habit of letting my father make his decisions for him, then maybe he should go.’

‘Your dad means well,’ Brynn says softly, helping me lift the dress into place. ‘Even when he’s wrong about how to show it.’

‘I know he does. But this isn’t about Dad. It’s about JP choosing to walk away. Again.’noveldrama

Brynn zips the dress up and she lets out a small gasp the second we both stare into the mirror.

‘Oh my God, Cammy. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they made this dress for you. JP is going to eat his heart out when he sees you in this.’

‘I don’t want him to eat his heart out. I want the truth… and this dress is going to get it for me.’

Three years of saying no to him, and the one time I say yes, it leads us here… again. One almost-perfect night, and he’s gone.

‘The auction isn’t just about fundraising anymore, is it?’ she asks, but she knows the answer.

‘No,’ I whisper. ‘It’s about making him choose. Stay and fight for this—for us—or leave. No more letting my dad or his past or anything else decide for him.’

‘And if he chooses wrong?’ Brynn’s question hangs in the air.

I lift my chin, meeting my own eyes in the mirror. ‘Then at least I’ll know.’

As we head to the register, my phone finally buzzes. For a moment, my heart leaps, but it’s just Everett confirming auction details. I try not to feel disappointed, but Penelope catches my expression.

‘You know,’ she says softly, ‘sometimes the biggest goals come from the shots we’re most afraid to take.’

I think about JP, about the bet, about everything that’s led us here. ‘Yeah,’ I reply, ‘but sometimes I wish the net wasn’t quite so well defended.’

The emerald dress feels heavy in my arms, like the weight of decisions yet to be made. It’s seven days until the auction. Seven days to figure out if I’m really ready to face what happens next.

And seven days to decide if I want him to save it or let it in.

Because the truth is, I’m not sure which would hurt more – scoring and watching him leave, or missing and knowing he stayed because of a bet, not because he chose to fight for us.