Chapter 14
Laiken
Knox drives his Maserati like he’s playing a game of Grand Theft Auto.
The vehicle sits low to the ground, all sleek lines and reckless arrogance, growling every time he punches the gas, which is far too often for my liking.
I grab the handle above the door and brace as he blows through a yellow light that’s red by the time we hit the intersection. A horn blares behind us.
“I’d really like to make it to the arena in one piece,” I bark.
Knox grins, eyes locked on the road. “Relax, old man. Everything’s under control.”
“That’s highly debatable,” I mutter, tightening my grip.
With a laugh, he does the exact opposite of slowing down by stomping on the gas.
Two blocks later, flashing red and blue lights flood the rear window.
I drop my head back against the seat and swear under my breath. Knox sighs, as if he’s been mildly inconvenienced, before hitting the signal and pulling into the nearest parking lot.
“Don’t worry,” he says calmly, as if this is a routine pit stop. “I’ll take care of it. Happens all the time.”
I glare. “Why am I not surprised?”
He rolls down the window and flashes his trademark Knox McNichols smile, the one that usually leaves women swooning in his wake. “Morning, officer.”
The woman doesn’t even blink. “License and registration.”
Knox hands them over, smile still firmly in place, unfazed by her brisk demeanor.
She studies the ID, then him before staring at the card again.
“Do you have any idea how fast you were going, Mr. McNichols?”
“Please, call me Knox,” he says, flashing that same effortless grin.
If it’s possible, her expression turns even frostier. “Just answer the question, Mr. McNichols.”
He blinks, clearly uncertain how to proceed. “Uh… Maybe five over?”
“It was thirteen over the limit.” She leans in slightly and then does a double take when her gaze shifts to me. “Oh my God.” Her eyes widen as her whole face lights up. “Laiken Lennox!”
I lift a hand in a tentative wave. I’ve never been one to fully embrace the whole celebrity thing. “Hey.”
“I can’t believe it’s really you,” she gushes. “My son is ten and just started playing hockey. He’s a goalie.” Her smile turns proud. “Best position on the ice.”
“That’s debatable,” Knox grumbles.
She doesn’t spare him another glance. “He’s going to lose his mind when I tell him about meeting you.”
My teammate squints, clearly offended. “Uh… You might not realize it, but I play for the Railers too.”
Her attention flicks to him for half a second. “That’s nice,” she says absently, already turning back to me. “Do you mind if I get a picture?”
Knox’s jaw drops. “I’m sorry… You want a picture of him?”
“Sure do.” With a grin, she reaches for her phone. “The squad is gonna love this.”
She hands Knox the phone before hustling around to the other side of the vehicle. I paste on a polite smile while Knox snaps a few pictures, muttering under his breath the entire time.
After straightening, she turns back to him, as if remembering why she pulled us over in the first place. “I’m going to let you off with a warning, Mr. McNichols. Don’t let it happen again.”
He nods stiffly, his trademark grin long gone. “Yes, ma’am.”
As she walks away, I call out, “Tell your son good luck.”
Knox presses his lips together as he pulls back into traffic at a more sedate speed.
My shoulders shake with silent laughter. “You should’ve seen your face when she didn’t recognize you.”
“I think you enjoyed that way too much,” he says flatly.
“How could I not?”
He doesn’t say another word for the rest of the drive. The silence stretches between us, broken only by the low growl of the engine and the city sliding past the windows in a blur of steel and glass.
Normally, this would be the point where my mind shifts to hockey. Traffic in front of the net, rebound control, and the kind of drills that punish a goalie for blinking. It’s the familiar rhythm of preparation.
Instead, it drifts in a direction it has no business going.
To a certain blonde standing in my kitchen fresh-faced, hair still damp, moving through my space like she belongs there. Or the easy way she laughed with Elody, as if they’d known each other their whole lives instead of a handful of weeks.
I don’t like how easily my thoughts turn to her. Or how they linger, refusing to move on. And then there’s the seamless way she fits into our space.
After parking in the structure, I spot Oliver and Rina walking toward the arena.
Her head is tipped back as she laughs, and Oliver’s attention stays locked on her, as if the rest of the world has ceased to exist. I’d suspected that our winger had a thing for the Railers’ PR manager, but I never would’ve guessed she returned the interest.
It would seem like the Big O finally found his happily ever after.
The four of us fall into step midway to the building.
I watch Oliver from the corner of my eye, waiting for him to pull me aside.
When he doesn’t say anything about his sister’s new living arrangement by the time we reach the locker room, I realize I won’t be able to focus on practice until it’s off my chest.
Knox disappears inside the door, still sulking about getting pulled over.
I pause before following him. “Hey, can we talk for a minute?”
Rina presses a quick kiss against Oliver’s cheek. “See you later.”
“Bye, babe,” he says, watching her walk away.
The satisfaction on his face is unmistakable. It’s an easy kind of contentment that settles in without effort, the sort I don’t think I’ve ever really known before. Not even when things were good with Sarah.
As soon as Rina disappears around the corner, his attention shifts to me.
“Everything okay, Lennox?”
“Yeah.” I hesitate, then add, “I just wanted a quick word with you.” I shift my weight, suddenly aware of how formal this sounds. “Kia stayed over last night. She’s going to move into the guest room while she helps take care of Elody.”
He blinks once, looking far less surprised than I expected. “Yeah. She texted last night and said she didn’t want me to worry.”
“Oh.” I clear my throat and force myself to keep going. “It’s a professional arrangement,” I add, the words stiff on my tongue. “I didn’t want you to think there was anything else going on.”
“Please.” He lets out a short laugh and claps a hand on my shoulder. “That never even entered my mind. You’re the last guy on this team I’d worry about with my sister.”
Relief flares before dying just as quickly.
“Well… that’s good.”
“I know she’s safe with you.”
“Yeah,” I say with a nod. “She is. I’m, uh, glad we got that settled.”
Oliver chuckles. “There wasn’t anything to settle.” Before I can respond, he continues. “Honestly? I think this is exactly what she needed.”
My brows draw together. “Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know. She’s been struggling lately. And at twenty-two…” He trails off. “That’s kind of the stage where you’re still figuring your shit out.”
Twenty-two.
The number lands like a gut punch.
She’s young. Too damn young to be sleeping across the hall from me, too young to be quietly unraveling my sense of balance without even trying.
“I still don’t understand why she left school,” Oliver adds. “She’s been pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing.”
I shift. “Well, I just wanted you to know she’s safe with me.”
“You’re one of the few guys I trust with her,” he says, his voice steady.
Trust.
I make a promise to myself right then and there that I won’t cross any lines or let this situation get complicated. Not when there’s already so much at stake.
Oliver jerks his chin toward the locker room. “We should probably get moving. Coach has been up my ass lately. No reason to make it worse.”
“Yeah,” I mutter.
As he walks away, a small kernel of guilt settles in my chest.
Even as everything I just said hangs in the air, I get the feeling that keeping my promise isn’t going to be nearly as easy as I assume.