Chapter Eight #2
while typing one-handed on her phone about some AI emergency. Now her crisp tech executive clothes were rumpled, and there
was cat . . . stuff . . . on her sleeve.
“Shit, are you supposed to be at work?” he asked suddenly.
“I have a meeting at nine.” She checked her watch. “Which gives us about an hour to get these three sorted.” Her nose wrinkled.
“Though I think Little Mama might have fleas. We should probably get some flea treatment before they infest your house.”
“Fleas?” Gale looked down at his bare legs in horror.
“Welcome to pet ownership.” She pulled out her phone. “I’m texting you my parents’ vet’s info. Dr. Chen’s been treating Smythe
pets since I was in middle school. She’ll get you set up with everything you need—shots, supplies, the works.”
His stomach dropped. “How much does all that cost?”
“Less than one of your hockey sticks, I’m guessing.” Her eyes softened. “Hey, you’re doing a good thing here. And you’re not
alone, okay? I’ll help. Plus, Brooke will love this—Benji gets some fur cousins.”
Gale watched her tapping away on her phone, already three steps ahead with a plan, just like always.
That knot in his chest from earlier loosened a little.
Maybe he couldn’t explain why keeping these cats felt so important, but having Harriet here, making everything seem manageable .
. . it helped. Had this same woman really been in his arms three days ago, fingers in his hair, kissing him like she meant it?
It felt surreal now, especially after they’d spent the time after carefully navigating around it, scheduling beta tests for E.M.M.A.
and pretending they were just old friends.
“Thanks for coming,” he said quietly. “Not many people would show up at dawn for a cat emergency.”
“What are friends for?” She smiled, but something in her eyes made his heart skip. That night flickered between them for a
moment before she looked away. “Now, come on, new dad. Let’s get your family settled.”
He watched her gather the towels, all business now, like she had been in their texts about data collection and sensor calibration,
and wondered if they were ever going to talk about what happened. Or if maybe they shouldn’t.
The next morning, Gale arrived at the Regals’ practice facility by eight, exhausted but oddly energized. He’d been up since
five, learning that kittens needed to be fed every few hours. Little Mama was handling most of it, but he kept checking on
them, tucked safely in the laundry room where Dr. Chen had helped him set up a proper nesting box. His phone was full of cat
photos now—he’d sent about twenty to Brooke before she’d threatened to block his number.
As he pushed through the heavy glass double doors of the Iceplex, gear bag slung over one shoulder, he spotted Harriet sitting
in the lobby, her blond hair contrasting against the giant Regals logo on the wall behind her. She looked fresh and put-together,
like she hadn’t spent yesterday morning helping deliver kittens on his pool deck. Unlike him, who’d barely slept between kitten
checks and overthinking everything that happened between them.
“You made it,” he called out—at least his voice was steady—nodding at the security staff.
Harriet rose and lifted the black computer bag by her side.
“Ready to work with E.M.M.A.?” She already had a visitor tag.
Her glasses were different today, pink with some sort of animal print on the sides.
She’d reassured him late last night that she was working on the glitches—the program wouldn’t be asking anything too personal, just tracking his movements and reactions.
He wasn’t about to admit he was nervous about a computer program. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. Let’s go. I’ll take
you in and go suit up.” He slowed, glancing down; it always surprised him how short she was, since in his mind she felt so
much bigger. “There’s a cafeteria in the building next door, you want anything? Coffee? Tea? Juice?”
“Nah.” She lifted a giant stainless-steel water cup in answer. “I’m good.”
As he got dressed in the locker room, luckily the other stalls were empty. He hadn’t wanted to see or talk to anyone. When
he made his way out, she was waiting on the side and beckoned him over.
He skated up and she fastened a slim black band around his wrist.
“This thing again.” He frowned at it. “The tracker.”
“It’s a device I’ve protoyped. You’ll wear it for the duration of the time you partner with me. It measures heart rate, adrenaline
spikes, the physiological works and sends it all to E.M.M.A.,” Harriet confirmed as she set up a camera. “It will give the
AI all your performance data to go along with the footage.”
Gale nodded, trying to ignore the flutter in his stomach. Was it the prospect of being monitored so closely, or was it Harriet’s
proximity? He couldn’t quite tell. “Listen, before we start. I hate to ask, but I kind of need a favor.”
Harriet looked up from the camera, curiosity written across her face. “I’m listening.”
“We gotta play outta town tomorrow—well, the team does.” He swallowed hard, knowing she already knew about Coach’s decision.
She’d been nothing but professional about it, not mentioning the healthy scratch even though it had to be affecting her data collection.
“But I need someone to feed Little Mama and check the kittens. Would you mind? I can give you my house keys after we’re done. ”
Harriet’s eyes softened. “Of course. I’d love to.”
“Alright, Knight,” a voice boomed from across the rink. The skills coach, Ryan, stood, arms crossed. “Let’s get to it.”
Gale felt the pressure set in. “Right. Duty calls.” He gave Harriet a quick wave and skated out onto the ice. For the next
hour, Gale pushed himself harder than he had in months, drill after drill—he gave it his absolute all. He was acutely aware
of her presence in the stands, her eyes following his stick handling. Her fingers danced across the tablet while he ran through
puck control, dekeing moves, back-to-the-basics shit.
Ryan’s voice rang out, “Alright, let’s run through some offensive zone entries. Knight, you’re on the rush. Show me what you’ve
got.”
Maybe it was his imagination but he swore he could feel E.M.M.A.’s band tightening slightly on his wrist. His mind drifted—suddenly
he was back on his couch, Harriet’s body pressed against his, the way she’d tasted like sweet wine and heat, how her fingers
had curled into his shirt. The soft sound she’d made when he’d deepened the kiss. Four days ago and he could still feel every
moment of it, still remember how her tongue had slid against his, how she’d taken control and made his head spin—
“Knight! Earth to Knight!”
Gale blinked, the fantasy evaporating. He was still on the ice, Ryan glaring at him. Harriet stood by the boards, tablet in hand, looking at him with concern. That kiss had been real—one perfect moment before everything got complicated. But he’d wanted her for so much longer than that.
“You okay there, Gale?” she asked. “You went a million miles away.”
As he skated toward Ryan, he caught Harriet’s quick wave. That smile hit him in the gut, same way it always had. Same way
it probably always would.
He took a deep breath, trying to focus on the coach’s advice, but his mind kept drifting back to her—not just the kiss, but
all of it. Her blond ponytail, her glasses always slightly a fraction askew, the way she’d shown up at dawn for a cat emergency
without hesitation. His head was spinning.
What the hell was he doing? He had a career to save, a team counting on him, and now kittens at home. He didn’t have time
to sort out whatever this . . . thing with Harriet was.
Did he?
The question knocked the air from his lungs. This thing with Harriet was different—riskier, deeper. He should probably back
off. Problem was, he didn’t want to.