Chapter 15
Fifteen
Harper
“You’re staring,” Faye whispers.
I jerk, tear my gaze away from the ice—or more specifically away from one particular player on the ice—and glance over at my favorite romance author.
And my friend.
A few months ago, I was alone, and now…I’m part of something special.
A family in name rather than blood.
Having lost mine, I know exactly how valuable family—biological or not—can be. But what Luna and the others have built together is special and loud and fun and nosy and chaotic and…more. Not more than my mom, not more than what she gave me.
But more than either of us ever had.
I smile at Faye and bump my shoulder against hers. “I think you’re the one who’s gone ga-ga over your boytoy.”
She giggles. “I’m not sure if Gray would be offended to be called my boytoy or not.”
“Not,” Bri says from the other side of her. “Last time I heard him introduce himself he said he was Faye’s fictional heroic hockey influence.”
Faye groans.
I laugh.
“I can totally see it,” Luna says then clearly demonstrates the nosy part of the family they’ve built. “He’s totally the inspiration for Asher, right?”
Faye’s cheeks go pink.
“The hot neighbor your heroine is lusting after but too shy to talk to?” Luns grins. “You got everything except the fire.”
Faye glares at her. “That’s because I hadn’t lived through my house burning down yet.”
“It is a convenient plot arc,” Kailey adds dryly. “That whole forced proximity thing?” She clutches her hands to her chest and sighs. “So good.”
“Kill me now,” Faye mutters, but she’s fighting a smile.
“Never,” Luna declares. “I need more fictional hockey hotties.” A beat. “So, so many more.”
Bri rolls her eyes. “I thought you already have your…hockey hottie.” With the last, she pretends to gag a little, probably because Aiden has become a bit like a surrogate big brother for her—all the guys have. Talking about him being hot…yeah, probably not Bri’s thing.
“You’re not wrong about my hockey hottie.” Luna’s gaze slides out to the ice. “My man is gorgeous.” She turns back and winks at us. “But it’s still fun to imagine, am I right?”
“No,” I lie.
“Absolutely not,” Bri says.
“Oh, yes,” Faye chimes in.
“One hundred percent,” Kailey adds.
We freeze.
Bri sighs.
I hold my breath, hope no one will call me on my bullshit.
A beat…and we all turn back to the ice.
Phew.
I’ll admit I didn’t protest too vehemently when Luna roped me in to coming. Sure, I have work to finish up back at my kitchen after this outing is done, but it was nice to sneak out for lunch and some hangout time with the girls.
Especially considering my schedule of the next few weeks.
Completely jam-packed.
But good for my bank account…and those bills that never seem to go away.
Thankfully, they’re not all big events like the birthday party.
Some are catered breakfasts or lunches for meetings (thanks Clara), one is a small class for a group of women who want to learn how to make a homemade pasta dish.
But several—including the party for Shannon—are fancy multi-course culinary adventures that require a lot of planning, prep, and overall effort to serve things perfectly.
And then clean up.
Dishes.
So many dishes.
Maybe instead of an assistant, I’ll get a dishwasher.
Now that would be a dream. My own hockey hottie who spends his free time doing all of my dishes.
I shake myself, ask, “So this is practice?”
“More like ice time,” Luna says.
I frown. “Umm, is there a difference?”
“Kind of,” she says. “It’s the off-season, so there aren’t any official Grizzlies workouts, on or off the ice.
A lot of the international guys go home, and a lot of the guys with families in the Midwest or East Coast do the same.
But obviously they need to stay in shape for the season so they find the ice time where they can. ”
“Or sometimes, they need to get in shape,” Bri says dryly.
Luna laughs. “You’re not going to let Aiden live it down, are you?”
“The man ate an entire batch of cupcakes and then was bitching about having a Dad Bod.” Bri shrugs. “I just pointed out that either self-control or more time in the gym was required to change that.”
“We’re talking about your Aiden?” I ask, eyes wide.
A flash of a smile. “Yup,” Luna says.
I giggle.
So do the others.
“I know,” Luna says through her own chuckles. “And I know I shouldn’t laugh. But the man has a literal six-pack. Meanwhile, I’m resembling a whale, and somehow he’s the one worried about his weight?” She shakes her head. “Thankfully, he’s seems to be over it now.”
“Just like that?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I kind of pointed out that he’s going to be a Dad so having a Dad Bod might not be the end of the world. And then I—” She slants a look at Bri. “Marshmallow.”
Bri clamps her hands over her ears.
“And then I blew him,” Luna announces proudly, as though that little aside with marshmallow hadn’t just happened.
“You—” Kailey—who’s not surprised by much, considering that she’s married to Smitty—stops. Blinks. “You—” Another blink. “And he just…”
Luna shrugs. “My man’s pretty chill.”
Faye and I glance at each other.
She’s not wrong.
“What’s with the marshmallow thing?” I ask.
“It’s Bri’s”—she tugs at Bri’s arm, and Bri drops her hands to her lap—“and my safe word.”
Bri nods. “A very necessary safe word. Especially since pregnancy means that Luna’s already almost non-existent filter is even further depleted.”
Luna scowls. “Rude.”
“What?” Bri shrugs. “It’s true.”
“That’s not—”
They keep bickering, and I turn to Kailey. “Want to explain for the hockey noob why this is a practice but also, somehow, not a practice?”
Her lips twitch. “The guys take turns renting the ice to get some practice in—sometimes it’s with a specific coach to work on shooting or tipping or skating.
Sometimes it’s just to hang out with some friends and try things they wouldn’t normally have time to experiment with during a true practice.
Today”—she nods out at the ice—“they have a skating specialist watching them. She’ll highlight some things for them to improve. ”
“Hmm,” Faye says quietly. “That’s interesting.”
Kailey glances over, asks dryly, “Hockey hunk falling for the skating coach?”
“Oh yeah,” Faye whispers, pulling out her phone and starting to make some notes.
Kailey and I exchange a smile, and then I turn my focus out onto the ice, even as a blip of jealousy slides through me.
“Her name is Rosalie Bardot,” Kailey murmurs. “I like her a lot. Super smart. Super talented and an effective coach. She and I met when I was setting up the stats program for the Cougars.”
Kailey works with lots of professional sports teams to streamline their stats tracking.
It’s a kickass job.
Then again, she’s a kickass woman who’s super smart and super talented too. “I feel like I’ve heard of the Cougars. Are they based out of Clairmont?”
She nods. “Yeah. Just for the last few seasons. They moved out of Georgia looking for a city with a stronger fan base and somehow landed in Clairmont. But that aside, they’re really putting a lot of work into player development, so while it may take a few years for the team to have strong playoff contention, right now, they’re doing all the things they should. ”
“That’s good,” I whisper. But honestly? I’m barely listening.
Because the woman—Rosalie—is smiling up at Leo.
My stomach twists.
I can’t wait to see you again.
I grind my teeth together and shove down the jealousy.
This is his job. And all the guys are smiling and laughing and having a good time. And…I exhale silently. It wouldn’t matter if it was more than his job, anyway.
Because he’s not mine.
That stings, but it helps me focus, helps me see what I missed before.
The beauty of what’s happening on the ice.
I know the guys are just messing around, but God, they’re beautiful. Graceful and sleek, even Smitty, who’s broader and towers over everyone by several inches. Then the pucks come out, and I feel my mouth drop open at what they can do with blades strapped to their feet and sticks in their hands.
I mean, I knew it was tough, but this…
The speed with which they move, the power behind every stride, every shot.
“And this is just practice?” I murmur.
Luna sighs. “They’re incredible, aren’t they?”
I nod. “Beyond.”
“I used to skate and I don’t even know how they do it. They’re just…” A shrug.
“Amazing,” Kailey murmurs.
“Yeah,” I say. “That.”
“Why do you think I write hockey?” Faye jokes.
“Because hockey players have great asses?” Bri quips dryly.
We laugh.
But she’s not wrong.
My eyes are drawn back out to the ice and I know that things are complicated—hell, they’re much more than just complicated between Leo and me.
But, God, I hope our baby plays hockey.