43. Happy
HAPPY
“Sleep,” Robbie mutters, walking off.
“Yeah, probably sleep,” Logan says with a laugh.
Brianna’s seductive gaze slides to me, her tongue dragging along her plumped up bottom lip.
Unlike the other guys, I stop, looking at the camera as I say, “I’m going to hang out with my daughter and my girlfriend.”
Someone behind me drops something. Samara and Brianna gasp. And, in front of me, Logan stumbles on his skates, colliding into the back of Robbie, who fumbles his stick.
“Daughter?” Samara questions at the same time as Brianna practically shrieks, “Girlfriend?”
Nodding, I flash them my trademark grin, turning like it’s no big deal as I follow Robbie and Logan who are, understandably, gaping at me incredulously.
“Dude!” Logan says, impressed.
“Way to soft launch, my guy,” Robbie chuckles, slapping a hand against my padded shoulder.
“Coach knows everything now,” I say. “That’s all that matters.”
“Proud of you, brother.” Logan nods before skating out onto the ice.
“Slater!”
I startle suddenly, dropping a glove at the sound of Coach’s booming voice coming from behind me.
Spinning around, I crouch to pick up my glove, standing back up to attention to find my girlfriend’s father’s steely glare settled on me.
Wow. Talk about POV change; last time I saw this guy, he was literally giving me his blessing, telling me he was happy for me and Hannah.
Now, the man looks like he wants to tear me to shreds.
I swallow hard, squaring my shoulders. “What’s up, Coach?”
“You’re down with Mason,” he barks, nodding his head in the direction where Robbie is stretching next to our defensive coach, Gunther, as he sets up some blue line markers.
My jaw drops as realization dawns on me. “I’m starting tomorrow?”
Chomping on his gum, Coach looks at me with little to no expression whatsoever. “Yeah.”
I could cry. “C-can I hug you?”
“Not unless you want that there stick shoved up your asshole,” Coach responds without missing a beat, tipping his chin at my hockey stick.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Coach,” I say, my attempt at joking lost to the emotion that causes my words to tremble.
“What are you waiting for, son?” Coach huffs after a few beats. “A goddamn written invitation?”
“Sorry, Coach.” My grin wins its battle against my self-control as I skate out onto the ice, feeling like I’m on cloud fucking nine.
“You okay, Lucky Duck?”
Lucky hides behind me, poking her head out to look at herself in the mirrored doors of the elevator, her big eyes meeting mine in the reflection. She nods, causing her pigtails to bounce against her shoulders with the movement, but the way she’s clinging onto me, I don’t know if I believe her.
My eyes flit to Hannah as she watches on with a sad smile. “She’s not a fan of elevators,” I explain.
“You know what I do?” Hannah crouches down, bringing herself to Lucky’s eye level. “I watch the floor counter.” She points to the panel with the lit-up numbers. “And I try to count in time with the floors. I’ve gotten pretty good at it over the years, if I do say so myself.”
Lucky looks at the panel, her lips twisting to the side. “But I can’t count that high,” she says with a shrug.
Hannah peers up at me, clearly at a loss, and I conceal a laugh with a cough right as the elevator chimes, indicating our arrival. “We’re here!”
I lead the way to Robbie and Fran’s apartment when I’m stopped by Lucky tugging on the hem of my t-shirt. Stopping, I look down at her as she holds her arms up, popping her bottom lip.
Refraining from rolling my eyes, I crouch down and lift her, meeting her eyes. She’s had a bit of a bad afternoon—clingy, a little age regression. It happens, especially when we’re trying something new. “What’s up, Luck?”
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
“What are you scared of?”
Hannah presses a hand to my back. “How about I go inside, and you guys can stay out here for a few minutes?”
I nod at her, and she winks before continuing to the door and letting herself inside, and honestly, I’m just so fucking grateful that she gets it.
“Talk to me, Lucky Duck.”
She doesn’t, just bows her head, looking down.
“You’ve done a lot of new stuff lately, huh?”
Lucky nods but doesn’t meet my eyes.
“You’ve met a lot of new people, gone to some different places,” I continue gently. “I’m so proud of you.”
Her gaze lifts. “You are?”
“You bet!” I nod. “I love being able to take you everywhere with me. You’re my best friend.”
“I am?” Her eyes widen.
I nod.
“Hannah’s my best friend,” she says in response, and I try not to laugh because ouch.
“She is?”
Lucky nods, smiling wistfully. “I love her.”
I bite back a grin, leaning close and resting my forehead against my daughter’s, breathing her in and looking deep into her eyes. “I do, too.”
“And me?”
“Are you kidding me?” I balk. “Always you. You’re my homie.”
Lucky grins, and man, I love that smile.
Behind us, the door to Robbie and Fran’s apartment opens, and I spin around, expecting Hannah only to find Robbie’s head poking out, his dark eyes scanning the hallway before landing on us, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“Is that my bestie?”
“Robbie!” Lucky squeals, and suddenly she’s clambering down from my hold, launching herself at him.
Robbie takes a knee, getting down with Lucky. “Guess what?”
“What is it?” Lucky practically bounces up and down with anticipation.
“Fran’s got all her nail polishes lined up on the table, and we’ve nominated you to paint our nails for game one tomorrow.” Robbie waggles his fingers, presenting his nails.
Lucky squeals before slapping a hand over her mouth.
“I’m thinking all the colors. Maybe even go nuts with a little glitter. C’mon, BFF.” He stands, holding his hand out for her, throwing me a wink before they head inside, hand-in-hand.
“Okay. Well… I mean, don’t worry about old dad out here,” I call behind them, huffing a laugh as I walk inside. “I’ll just let myself in.”
Inside, Logan and Dallas are seated at the long dining table, inspecting what looks like at least fifty bottles of nail polish, all colors of the rainbow, including a few colors I’ve never even seen before.
Dallas tips his hat at me, Logan juts his chin, and I can’t help but laugh because if this was a week ago, before they knew of Lucky’s existence, they’d be situated in front of the television, PlayStation controllers in hand, and I’d be running in to join them.
Now they’re lined up at Lucky’s makeshift nail salon. How quickly things change.
“Hey, girlfriend!” Fran greets Lucky with a giant hug.
“I love your boots,” Emily says, next in line to embrace my daughter.
Lucky looks down at her pink sparkly rain boots. “Thanks. My daddy got them for me.” She grins back at me, and Emily flashes a knowing smile.
“Hey, Papi,” Hannah teases, sidling up next to me, a bottle of water in one hand, a Gatorade in the other, offering me one.
I take the water, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her cheek, lingering a little longer to murmur a warning. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Baby Draper.”
She shivers in response, and my already stirring cock twitches.
“Daddy, what color do you want?”
Pulled from my inappropriate thoughts, I glance back to where Lucky is sorting the bottles of polish.
“We’re all going rainbow,” Robbie speaks for me, throwing a steely glance back at Dallas and Logan like they might possibly object. Of course, they don’t. I have a feeling my friends would die for that little girl, regardless of Robbie’s harsh tactics.
“Rainbow,” I answer, winking at Lucky.
She kicks her feet, lining up the colors.
“Pssst!”
I spin around, Fran standing by the entry to the hallway, waving Hannah and me over. Hannah glances at me curiously, and I shrug a shoulder, the two of us following Fran as she leads the way to the end, where her and Robbie’s bedroom is.
“Not gonna lie,” I say, walking into the sprawling, dimly lit room with its wall of glass that looks over New York as the city lights start to illuminate against the dusk sky.
“Kinda weird being in your bedroom.” When I spot Emily and Millie seated on the chaise sofa by the far wall, sipping glasses of wine, I add, “With every one of my best friends’ ladies… ”
“Oh relax,” Fran dismisses with a wave of her hand as she crosses the room and enters the door to what appears to be the closet. “It’s not like I’m about to strap on a dildo and tell you to bend over.” She throws me a salacious smile over her shoulder. “I mean, unless of course you ask me to.”
I deadpan, and Hannah stifles a laugh next me, squeezing my hand.
Fran returns a moment later, carrying a big box and placing it onto the foot of the bed.
“That better not be a fucking strap-on,” I say, sizing up the box.
She smirks at me but doesn’t answer, lifting the top off the box and rifling through the white tissue paper inside.
I watch, curious and quietly terrified because when it comes to Fran Keller and a mystery box, you can never be too sure what she’s going to pull out of it. But when I see what it is, my eyes light up.
“Jackie delivered it this morning,” Fran says of our captain’s wife, smiling from me to Hannah.
“Oh my God.” Hannah groans, throwing her head back.
“I fucking love it!” I step closer, taking the black leather letterman-style jacket, adorned with sparkly rhinestones that spell out my name and number on the back and the Thunder logo across the front with the season year on the left breast.
“You’re wearing it!” Fran throws a warning finger at Hannah.
I unzip it and do the honors, draping the leather over my girlfriend’s shoulders and taking a step back to get a good look at her. “Fuck, I’m hard…”
“That was Dallas’s exact reaction.” Emily laughs from her place on the chaise.
“Ew,” Millie scoffs beside her. “Sister, remember?”
“You look so fuckin’ good, Baby Draper,” I mutter into Hannah’s ear, stepping up flush behind her. “Please wear it.”
“I mean, if I must,” she says on a bored sigh, flashing me a mischievous grin over her shoulder.
“Brat,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the crook of her neck, causing her to shiver again in my favorite way.
“Okay, well before you two start fucking on my bed,” Fran interrupts, “there’s something else…”
Hannah and I turn to watch as she reaches back into the box, smiling conspiratorially as she pulls out another WAG jacket, only this one is a lot smaller, and instead of SLATER bejeweled across the back, it says DADDY, and I swear to God, my eyes burn with emotion.
Hannah gasps, rushing over to get a closer look. “Oh my God, that is so damn cute!”
“I know. Who knew Jackie wasn’t a twenty-four-seven cunt bag?” Fran shrugs.
“Fran!” Emily chides.
“It’s true,” Millie says. “She is a bit of a bitch.”
“A bit?” Hannah snorts.
“My two favorite girls wearing my number at my very first playoff game,” I muse, moving in next to Hannah.
“Oh my God, you two are adorable!” Fran gushes.
“Let’s surprise her!” Hannah whispers, eyes wide, all excited. “Us girls can all be dressed in our matching jackets, and then we can surprise Lucky with her very own.”
I nod. “She’ll feel so special.”
Hannah shrugs her jacket off and folds it back up into the box along with Lucky’s, and Fran finds a big tote, hiding the box inside for us to take home when we leave.
And we all file back out into the living area to find Lucky leaning over Robbie’s hands, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she concentrates so hard, painting his thumbnail in a bright fuchsia pink.
“Sit down, Daddy,” Lucky says, not looking at me. “You’re next.”
I can’t help but beam as I move to the chair next to Logan, taking a seat.
“Sure thing, baby girl.”