Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
McCabe
T he knock on my door startles me, even though I was expecting it. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me—I’m so damn jumpy today. It’s like the thought of seeing AJ outside of work has me on edge.
“Let’s go meet the guy who might be your new manny,” I say to Abby, kissing her on top of her head as I pick her up from where we were playing with some big plastic cars on the floor of the living room.
I don’t know for sure whether Nicholas is going to be the right choice, but we have a game tonight and I still don’t know what I’m doing with Abby during it. The agency I used to find my past nannies said it was unlikely they’d be able to find someone for at least a few weeks, so he’s my only option for the short term.
The minute the door opens, Abby reaches her arms out toward AJ, who gives her a sweet smile as she takes my daughter from me without a second of hesitation. Maybe it’s the way her dark hair is back in a ponytail with some tendrils left down framing her face, or that she’s in leggings and a tank top, but the woman standing in front of me is not the same woman I work for. She’s...casual, and far softer and more feminine than I’m used to seeing her.
“You must be Nicholas,” I say, extending my hand toward the young man standing next to her. Unlike AJ, he’s got light hair and sun-bronzed skin. But their big brown eyes are the same, and he’s got the same wide mouth as her. That’s where the resemblance ends, though.
“Yes, nice to meet you, Mr. McCabe.”
“Ronan, please,” I say.
“Okay,” Nicholas says with a slight laugh as he drops my hand. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”
“McCabe is a hockey thing.” In the hockey world, everyone calls me by my last name as if it were my first name, so it’s always weird to hear someone call me Mr. McCabe. And honestly, I prefer it when people use my first name...I don’t even know how it happened that I became just “McCabe,” but I never fought it, so it’s just kind of stuck.
“Noted,” he says, and the clip of his voice reminds me of AJ’s all-business tone.
“Come on in.” I invite them into the entryway, shutting the door behind them. “Living room’s that way.” I gesture past the kitchen, and both he and AJ laugh.
“We know,” she says. “Your place is a mirror image of mine.”
“Good to know,” I say, following them into my condo and trying to convince myself to stop staring at the way her ass looks in those leggings. The last thing I need is a hard-on while talking to her brother about watching my daughter.
I’m starting to wonder why I can’t control the way my body reacts to hers. I’ve always been attracted to her, but it was never like this—the physical pull toward her whenever she’s around, this fucking yearning . It’s like long-buried feelings are resurfacing. Now that she’s no longer married and my reasons for hating her are mostly invalidated, it’s harder to resist her than it ever was before.
I sit across from AJ, far enough that I hope my body will stop reacting to hers. But watching her play with Abby, bouncing her up and down on her knees while holding her hands and quietly singing a nursery rhyme, is doing something entirely different to me. I don’t even know how to explain what exactly it is, but it has my heart feeling like it’s turning to goo right inside my rib cage.
Fuck, no. She’s my boss—a fact I’ve had to keep reminding myself of over the last twenty-four hours, but I just can’t seem to make that fact matter as much as it should.
Nicholas and I chat for a while about his experience with kids, what he’s studying in college, whether he can really commit to this position for the next week or month, depending on how we do. He’s easy to get along with and seems just as reliable as AJ said he’d be.
Most importantly, Abby seems drawn to him in a way she never was with Lucy. His voice is soothing, and eventually Abby crawls from AJ’s lap over to Nicholas’s. I’m shocked at how easily he can carry on a conversation with me while also playing with her, making her feel comfortable and cared for. It’s a skill I don’t think I’ve mastered. I never feel like I can do anything else when I’m with Abby, and I feel guilty if I give her anything less than my full attention. But he’s a natural at balancing everything, much like his sister yesterday in her office after Abby’s record-breaking diaper change.
“Has AJ already shared with you the schedule for this round of playoffs?” I ask.
“Yes, and the morning skate schedule for the home games. There’s nothing that I couldn’t cover, except for tonight’s game. My girlfriend Nicole has a tenuous relationship with her mom, and she’s in town right now...staying with us. We’re taking her down to Newport for dinner tonight as soon as Nic’s off work, and I can’t cancel on her—both because she doesn’t drive, and also because I just can’t leave her and her mom alone together for that long without some sort of huge relationship-ending fight,” he tells me, and I can’t imagine why she’d want to have a relationship with her mom if things are actually that bad. “But her mom will be gone by the time you leave for your away games in a few days, and if you have anything you need to do before you leave, I can be around to watch Abby for whatever times you need during the day.”
“Okay.” I explain my commitments coming up over the next few days, and then sit back in my chair, looking over at AJ. “I still don’t know what I’m going to do about tonight. Tammy can’t watch her, and Walsh has a call in to his nanny to see if she knows anyone who could babysit, but if she doesn’t, I’m fresh out of options.”
AJ glances down at her phone. “It’s fine, I can take her.”
“I wasn’t asking you to do that,” I say, even though I know I probably don’t have any other options.
“It’s fine. Lauren can help me out if I need it, and Abby will probably just sleep on me most of the game anyway.”
“AJ, you can’t do that again. Once was enough...The optics are just not?—”
“I don’t give a shit what the optics are, McCabe. I need you to play. In exchange for me watching Abby, feel free to score a hat trick tonight.” Her lips curve up at the edges as she nods her chin at me. “It’s been a while.”
Part of me is tempted to tell her I’d be more inclined to score if she’d renew my fucking contract, but the other part of me knows that kind of sarcastic remark is both uncalled for, and just not true.
Plus, I don’t want her to renew my contract. I want to become a free agent so that Nashville can pick me up and I can move closer to my sister and nieces. Don’t I?
T here are only two minutes left in the third period when I score my second goal of the night, and before my teammates surround me in celebration, my eyes fly up to exactly where I know AJ is sitting, right next to Lauren, six rows behind the bench.
She’s got one arm wrapped protectively around Abby as she stands up from her seat in excitement, and her other arm in the air, her fist curled triumphantly. Her smile is wide as we lock eyes, and she mouths, “Good job!” before Lauren takes her hand mid-air and AJ turns toward her.
Walsh is the first one to crash into me where I’ve come to a stop at the boards near our bench, but he’s followed closely behind by Drew—our line is on fire tonight and we’re completely dominating this game against Philadelphia.
Some angry shouts in the stands quickly drown out the noise from the cheering, and all three of us turn our heads toward the ruckus. From the ice, I can see that a few Boston fans in the row behind AJ, and Philly fans in the row in front of her, are hurling insults at each other. AJ keeps her arm wrapped around Abby as she turns and looks up, shouting something at the Boston fans behind her while Jameson moves down the row, trying to position himself between the two groups and protect AJ and Lauren. But he doesn’t get there in time, and I watch in horror as one of the Boston fans leans down to push one of the Philly fans, but his shoulder connects with AJ, and she goes toppling over backward with my daughter attached to her.
My stomach drops and I don’t think, I just react. I skate to the glass in front of them as quickly as I can, banging on the glass to get their attention. “Hey!” I yell, my voice so loud the fans in the first few rows go silent. “Fucking stop this shit right now!” The security guards moving down the aisle toward them catch my eye, and I flag them down. “Help AJ first,” I call out. “She has my daughter!”
I watch helplessly from the other side of the glass as three security guards reach the row, one of them holding the Boston fans back and the two others helping AJ up. It looks like she fell backward, landing on the seats two rows down, and as the security guards get her back up on her feet, it’s clear she’s injured. Abby is screaming, but it’s impossible to tell if she’s in pain or if it’s because she was jolted awake while falling.
I rush over to the bench, hopping the boards and striding straight down the row. “I’m out for the rest of the game,” I tell Wilcott as I move past him. “And if AJ or Abby got hurt just now, heads are gonna fucking roll.”
With my heart racing, I don’t stop to listen to his response. I just run into the tunnel, trying to figure out where security will take them. They’re probably on the next level up, so I step into the elevator, and as I ride it up to the Club Level, I glance down at my stick still in my hand and my skates still on my feet.
And sure enough, as I exit the elevator, AJ is standing with two security guards and one of our team doctors. AJ is patting a still-crying Abby on the back with one hand while cradling her other arm up against her shoulder like she’s trying to avoid Abby accidentally kicking it.
“It’s fine,” AJ insists, shaking off the doctor as she tries to examine her wrist. But the grimace on her face gives her away—she’s not fine, and we can all see it. Glancing up at me as I approach, her brow furrows as she asks, “What are you doing up here?”
“What do you think I’m doing here?” I step closer to her. “You and Abby were just attacked. Did you think I’d still be down there playing?”
Everyone stares at me like I’m crazy, and that’s when I realize my mistake. I didn’t say I was up here for my daughter. But fuck it if I’m going to pretend that she’s not one of the reasons I walked away from my job tonight, especially since she was hurt trying to protect my baby.
“I’m fine,” she tries to assure me. “And so is Abby.”
I hand my stick to one of the security guards as I unhook the top of the baby carrier. “I’m going to take Abby out. Can you move your hand behind your back so she doesn’t hurt you more than you already are?”
“I’m fine.” The words come out between gritted teeth, but she bends her arm and moves her hand behind her back. Abby’s face lights up as I lift her out of the carrier, and she snuggles into my chest pads, unphased with everything going on around her.
“The EMTs will be here in about three minutes,” one of the trainers says as he runs up to Dr. D’Angelis. “They’re coming to the door in the back parking lot, so we can get them out without walking through the main entrance to the arena.”
“We don’t need to go to the hospital, Olivia,” AJ says to Dr. D’Angelis, using that bossy voice she does so well.
“I disagree.” Dr. D’s voice is equally firm, and she crosses her arms over her chest the same way AJ does when she’s putting her foot down about something. “And I won’t clear you to come back to work until that hand is X-rayed and we make sure you didn’t sustain any other injuries. We need to make sure the baby wasn’t hurt in the fall either.”
Abby has stopped crying, so I know she’s not in pain. Her cries were probably more from fear than anything.
“Stop questioning the team doctor, AJ,” I say. “This is literally her job.”
“Olivia,” she says to the doctor, eyebrow raising, “I’m not one of the players.”
“And yet I still won’t clear you to return until you’re checked out.” Dr. D’s face and voice both soften when she says, “Let me do the job you hired me to do, AJ.”
AJ lets out a dramatic sigh, but doesn’t say anything. There’s no chance she and Abby aren’t going to the hospital right fucking now, and there’s even less of a chance that I won’t be with them.