35. Gavin #2
Finn leans closer. “It’s gotta be cash,” he whispers.
“What?”
“Mommy won’t let me have my own Venmo account.”
I chuckle. Liv would die if she knew Finn was scamming me out of a thousand dollars cash, but I don’t really have a choice, do I? I can’t crush the kid’s spirit. “Okay, Finn. We’ll get cash on our way home.” And then my brother will be reimbursing me. A thousand dollars for a tooth. Guy is nuts.
An hour later, Finn and I are scarfing down pancakes when Millie appears with a smiling Vivi in her arms. My little girl is dressed only in a diaper and kicking her bare legs happily.
“No clothes?” I say, zeroing in on my child, wishing I could block her nanny out completely.
Millie waltzed in here wearing a pair of shorts barely long enough to be appropriate in the presence of children.
What’s worse than the shorts and the creamy expanse of her thighs, though, is the oversized Bolts T-shirt she’s wearing.
Because the damn thing is mine. I know it’s mine because I gave it to her when we were still together.
It’s one of the old-school ones in the original Bolts’ royal blue.
We’ve since shifted to a more muted hue.
Even worse is the fact that she’s clearly not wearing a bra—when does she ever?
—and her nipples poke against the fabric.
When she turns, I swear the shape of her nipple has changed. Like maybe there’s something clamped onto it. But when I squint to get a better look, she turns again, and when I look up, she’s smirking at me.
I avert my gaze and stuff a giant chunk of pancake into my mouth. Fuck, she’s going to be the death of me.
Unfazed, Millie plops down in the seat beside me. “Figured our girl will just make a mess, so I’ll give her a bath and get her dressed after breakfast. Right, Viv?”
Our girl.
Those two words are even more dangerous than the way the woman beside me is dressed. They have the power to send me tumbling into a fantasy I won’t let myself imagine. It will never happen, so it’s safer to avoid even considering it.
I’ll just ignore it. Ignore her.
If Millie’s bothered by my lack of response, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she turns her attention on the toothless kid across from her. “How’d you sleep?”
Finn shoots me a look. “Well, this one snores,” he points his thumb at me, “and I think he scared the tooth fairy away.”
She giggles. “Oh, look at that. You did lose a tooth.”
Finn nods, his head bobbing in an exaggerated way. “But the tooth fairy didn’t leave me any moneys.”
Millie sticks her lip out in a pout. “Don’t you worry. Next time you stay over, you can have your bed back, and I’ll have a sleepover with Uncle Gav instead.” She winks in my direction.
Jaw clenched, I scowl at her.
“You don’t mind his snores?”
Millie’s smile is so wicked I almost laugh. “I sleep like the dead. It’s all good.”
“Cool,” Finn says, his lips turned down in an impressed expression.
“No,” I grit out.
“Why not?” Finn asks. “Millie is pretty. And I don’t think she smells.” He leans across the table and sniffs. “Oh, you smell good. Like pancakes.”
“That’s the food on the table,” I bark, dropping my fork to my plate with a clatter.
Millie bites back a smile, but her eyes dance. “I don’t know, Uncle Gav. Want to test it out for yourself?” She pulls her messy curls back, exposing the spot on her neck she knows I love.
“Witchy woman,” I growl, only to instantly regret it.
Her brown eyes go wide, and her breath catches. Fuck. There’s no way she isn’t thinking about the night we met and everything that happened after she sang that song. I know I certainly am.
So much for forgetting. Fuck.
Hours later, after having a nice long chat with my brother about his kid’s expensive tooth and a cold, cold shower, my mood has improved.
We’ll be on the road for the next week, which means I’ll be surrounded by the guys almost constantly.
Surely that’ll keep me distracted from the nanny who never seems to leave my brain.
The coaches and our assistants typically sit near the front of the plane, and the players sit near the back. It’s better this way. Gives us some distance from the ruckus. The guys tend to get a little rowdy in anticipation of a series. They’re excited. I get it.
Since Ava isn’t traveling with us, I made sure she’s set up to order breakfast for the pediatric unit at the hospital this weekend.
I owe her big time, and this is just a start.
She’s close to a girl battling cancer, Josie, and she and Sara visit with her as often as possible.
When I told her I’d hired a nanny and that she wouldn’t have to spend the next ten days on the road with us, she all but melted to the floor in relief.
War is sitting in my seat when I step onto the plane. “Vivi girl!” He holds out his arms.
She squeals and arches her back in excitement. She’s quite possibly the happiest baby that’s ever lived.
“You’re in my seat.”
“Come on, Coach. Figured you could use a break. Go hang with the team, and I’ll keep an eye on our girl here.” He points to Vivi, but I have the sneaking suspicion he’s talking about the nanny who’s walking up behind me.
“Nice try.” I nod toward the back. “Beat it.”
War pushes up to a stand, big smirk on his face, and leans in to kiss Vivi’s cheek. “Your papa used to be much more chill, Vivi girl. We gotta work on him.”
My daughter grabs hold of War’s thumb and yanks, bringing it to her mouth. Before she can make contact, I gently pry her fingers off. “Get away from my daughter.”
With a rumbling laugh, he saunters down the aisle. On one side of the aisle is a set of oversized leather seats with tables between them. The seats on the other side have no table.
Before Vivi, I would sit at a table. Always.
I’d have my coffee, talk to the coach—at the time my scumbag uncle—laughing or smiling the whole way.
But I’m not that man anymore. It’s not lost on me that I don’t smile as much. I’m trying. But it’s hard to keep up the facade when I’m focused on keeping my head above water.
Millie waits for me to sit, still holding the diaper bag and her carry-on.
What I want to do—what would put an instant smile on my face—is take Vivi and Millie to the corner in the front of the plane where it’s just us.
I want to hold Millie’s hand during takeoff while she cradles my daughter.
I want to smile at her while Vivi dozes in her arms, and I want to whisper secrets, tuning out the rest of the world.
What I’m going to do, though, is very different. “I’ve got it from here.”
Millie’s lips turn down and her brows pull together. “Huh?”
“Set the diaper bag on that seat right there.” I wave a dismissive hand. “Then go sit in the back with your brother.”
“Don’t you need me to help?” Even as she asks it, she sounds resigned to my answer.
Yes is what makes sense. It’s why I hired her. It’s why she’s on this plane and in my life.But I can’t be that close to her. Not in such an enclosed space.
“No. You’ll be with her all week. This is the perfect chance for you to have a break and for me to spend time alone with her before I have to deal with practice and games and the media circus.
” Without waiting for Millie to reply, I settle in the seat by the window and fix my attention on the tarmac.
Even as I avoid her gaze, it’s impossible not to feel the shock radiating off her.
It eats at me, this uncontrollable feeling, making me hate myself with every second that I don’t return her gaze.
“Baby Hall, you’re traveling with us!” At the sound of Camden Snow’s voice, I can’t help but turn. Camden—“Ice” to his teammates and fans—puts a hand on Millie’s waist and steps up close.
Mine , I want to growl. Hands off.
Instead, I bite down and keep my mouth shut.
Millie’s frown morphs into a smile. “Sure am. Can I sit with you? Apparently, I’m not needed up here.” Her tone is sticky sweet and fake as can be.
We’re both playing roles that we don’t want to perform, but it’s better this way.
Or at least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.