Chapter 4
Laiken
By the time Hugh’s penthouse settles into that cozy rhythm of holiday gatherings with coats discarded, drinks poured, voices rising over the soft jazz, my daughter has already dragged Kia in about ten different directions.
First to the windows, where Elody presses her hands to the glass, bouncing on her toes as she points down at the street.
Then to the dessert table, where she studies the spread, her fingers hovering over the pies, cakes, and cookies, as if weighing an impossible decision.
And finally, to the appetizers when something on a silver tray catches her eye.
Even when I think about stepping in, giving Kia a breather and time to socialize with the other adults, I hold back because she doesn’t look in need of saving. That observation shouldn’t get under my skin, but it does anyway.
“Man, I don’t know how you do it,” Knox says, drink in hand. “That kid has way too much energy. I’m exhausted just watching her.”
Jax snorts. “Which is exactly why you should keep it wrapped up at all times. We don’t need any pucks slipping past the goalie.” He elbows me. “Right, Lennox?”
“Why am I getting dragged into this?” I mutter, side-eyeing him.
“You’re one to talk, Wilder,” Cooper Callahan cuts in before I can respond. “Neither of you should be contemplating procreating for a solid decade. Maybe even longer.”
Jax scoffs. “Please. I’d be an incredible dad. Kids love me.”
Knox doesn’t miss a beat. “That’s because you are one.”
Ignoring Knox and Jax, I glance at Cooper as he leans against the counter near the bar setup, one leg stretched out as if standing for too long is uncomfortable.
He looks better than the last time I saw him.
Not as pale or gaunt. It’s the careful way he shifts that gives him away.
Almost like he’s negotiating with his own body and losing.
“They finally let you out of rehab?” I ask.
Cooper’s mouth quirks. “Doc cleared me for turkey and social interaction. Huge milestone.”
Knox laughs. “Damn, we’ve really missed you on the ice.”
“Don’t get too attached,” Cooper says flatly.
I know exactly what rehab does to a guy. It turns days into measurements and you into someone who’s forced to watch the plays instead of making them, all the while waiting for your body to cooperate.
It sucks.
Cooper follows my line of sight across the room before raising a brow.
Knox tips his glass toward Kia. “So, Oliver’s sister. She’s new to Chicago, huh?”
When I fail to respond, his grin widens. “I bet she could use a friend. I’ve got a younger brother I could intro—”
“No.” The word is out before I can think better of it.
Knox blinks before laughing. “Damn, Lennox. What are you? Her dad?”
Jax gives me a once-over. “Honestly? He’s probably old enough.”
For the first time since he joined us, Cooper smiles as his gaze drifts lazily over my face. “What are you, like forty-five? Maybe pushing fifty?”
I glare, hoping to shut down further comments. “I’m thirty-three.”
“Sure,” Knox says, still amused. “But you’ve got the energy of a tired suburban dad who enjoys yelling at kids to get off his lawn.”
“Hard to do when I don’t have a lawn,” I say with a grunt.
“But you want to,” Jax says.
Cooper’s mouth twitches, but he doesn’t add anything more to the pile-on.
Smart man. It wouldn’t take much to send him back to rehab.
Across the room, Elody has Kia’s fingers laced in both of hers, as if she’s afraid that if she lets go for even a second, the pretty blonde might disappear.
A knot forms in my chest.
Attachment is risky.
Especially for a four-year-old who’s already lost too much. I should probably redirect her. Maybe steer her toward the other kids racing through the party, and create some space before this becomes another problem I can’t control.
Knox nudges my shoulder. “Are you even paying attention?”
I drag my focus back to my teammates. “What?”
He lifts his brows. “You’re staring.”
“No, I’m not.”
Jax barks out a laugh. “You absolutely are.”
Cooper takes a slow drink, then says mildly, “He has been since she walked in.”
My jaw flexes. “No, I haven’t—”
“Relax,” Knox says with a grin. “I’m just saying… she could probably use a friend. And you’re already in dad mode.”
“I’m always in dad mode,” I shoot back.
“That’s not what I meant,” Jax says with even more humor threaded through his voice.
Cooper shifts, then stops halfway through the motion. Pain tightens his expression before it’s smoothed away.
His eyes cut to mine before he says, “Careful, Lennox. You keep telling yourself it’s harmless and you might just start believing it.”
Without bothering to respond, I force my attention across the room and find Kia bent over so that she’s eye level with Elody, nodding along while my daughter talks, as if every rambling thought matters.
I’ve gotten good at spotting the people who pretend.
Especially the ones who do it around my kid.
That’s not what this is.
Elody tugs her toward me, practically bouncing the entire way.
“Daddy, can Kia come to our house and play? Please? Please, pleeeease?”
I blow out a reluctant breath, trying to find a polite way out of this mess. “Bug, I’m sure Kia has other things—”
A tentative smile pulls at the younger woman’s lips. “If it’s okay with you, I don’t mind.”
Elody’s eyes widen. “Is it okay, Daddy? Can Kia come over?”
Christ. I really need to draw a hard line in the sand and say no. My daughter needs to understand that Kia isn’t going to become a permanent fixture in our lives. That this, whatever the hell it is, comes with an expiration date.
The words hover on the tip of my tongue until Elody looks up at me like I’m holding her whole heart in my hands, and the thought of taking something else away from her feels unnecessarily cruel.
“Yeah, sure,” I hear myself say. “Maybe tomorrow morning. But only for an hour or two.”
Elody squeals. “Yay!”
“Looks like you found a new friend,” Evelyn says as she steps closer, attention settling on my little girl.
“I did!” Elody beams. “Kia’s my best friend!”
Instead of trying to temper her expectations, I swallow them down. In the grand scheme of things, it won’t matter. Kia will probably flake on us anyway. A conflict will come up and her plans will change.
Evelyn turns to Kia with a friendly smile. “And what about you? Oliver mentioned that you’ve been staying with him. What brings you to Chicago?”
The younger woman shifts, clearly uncomfortable to be put on the spot.
“I was in my senior year at Western,” she says. “But I decided it might be best to take a break and figure out what I really want to do. I’m not sure if accounting is it.”
Evelyn’s expression turns thoughtful. “Sometimes stepping back and taking a little time to assess the situation is the smartest move you can make.”
Hugh appears beside her with a tumbler in hand. “Is that what you tell yourself each time you leave a board meeting early?”
Even though Evelyn smiles sweetly, her eyes harden. “Actually, that would be because I find the company boorish.”
His brows rise. “I assume you’re talking about the board members. Don’t worry, I feel the same.”
Her smile falls away as Hugh’s grin widens.
Kia’s gaze shifts between them before Elody tugs at her.
“Come on! Let’s look at the desserts again. There are so many!”
“Okay,” Kia says, allowing herself to be pulled away.
After a few steps, she glances over her shoulder and meets my gaze. I hate to admit how that single look hits like a lightning strike. It’s sharp, unexpected, and impossible to ignore.
I lift my glass and take a sip, giving myself a second to remember all the reasons I shouldn’t be standing here watching her walk away.
She just admitted she dropped out of college and is still trying to figure out what her next move looks like.
She’s my teammate’s sister, which makes her off-limits, no matter how you slice it.
And, as if that weren’t enough, my ex-in-laws are still trying to wrestle custody of my daughter away from me.
The last thing I need is anything that looks remotely questionable or unstable in my personal life.
Every reason stacks up neatly in my head, logical and airtight. But none are enough to make me look away as she crosses the room with Elody tucked at her side, my daughter chattering happily.
I’ve told myself a lot of lies over the years to get through tough times. Which is exactly why I recognize what I’m doing.
Fuck.