I should’ve known she was married. All the signs had been there. Looking over her shoulder, constantly checking her phone, reluctance to talk about anything but sex. And looking back, I swear she’d given me multiple names over the course of the evening. Yeah, all the signs.

Practice was frustrating and rough. I swear the veterans were hitting me harder because of my alleged affair with Jock’s wife, whose name I now knew was Bria. I skated under the radar, tried not to catch the coach’s wrath, and kept clear of Jock. As the backup goalie, he was easier to avoid than if he’d been a defenseman, but I was certain he wasn’t done with me yet.

I stayed on the ice long after my teammates went to the showers. I skated myself into exhaustion, then finally dragged my sorry self to the locker room. By then, the place was empty. The team had had a crappy road trip, and I was guessing they’d gone home to rest or out to party, whatever therapy worked best.

I stripped off my clothes and took a long, hot shower. I closed my eyes and let the almost scalding water beat at my body until I was numb. I’d been hoping to crash at a teammate’s place, but I’d be heading back to a hotel. Not the one I’d been in, too many bad memories of my night with Jock’s wife.

I was furious at myself. I should’ve realized she was hiding something. I groaned at the mess I’d gotten myself into, not having a clue how to undo the damage that had been done.

After drying myself with a towel, I tossed it in the now-empty bin. Even the equipment guys had cleaned up in here for the day. With a start of guilt, I sighed. I was winning points with everyone in this organization.

The hall door slammed open, and I heard footsteps but didn’t bother to turn. I wasn’t in the mood for conversation with anyone. The person was pushing a cart. I heard the telltale rumble of the wheels across the floor.

“Nice ass, you bastard.”

I froze at the sound of a female voice in what was a very male domain. I spun around, not thinking to cover my private parts. Jock’s incredibly hot sister, now dressed in Dockers and a Sockeyes polo, smirked at me from across the room. She showed no shame as she ran her gaze from my bare feet, up my bare thighs to my dick. Her gaze settled there for a long moment. My face heated up hotter than an Arizona sun on the desert sand.

“I suppose that could be considered harassment. How unprofessional of me. I apologize.” She didn’t sound the least bit sincere.

Normally, I’d shoot her down with a clever comeback, but my tongue was currently stuck to the roof of my mouth.

“I’ll get the last of the towels and get out of your way. Leave your stuff for me. I’ll take care of it.”