I’m halfway inside before I stop and lean out the door to look at the camera again. “Wait, when did you have this installed?”
“Today. While you were out.” There’s a pause. “I didn’t like the feeling I had yesterday when I left for the airport.”
Charleigh’s head rests against my shoulder, seemingly to calm down.
“What feeling?” I ask.
“Uneasy,” he says. “I don’t like the thought of you and Charleigh being at home alone without me.”
My eyes water, and I don’t know why.
“Benedict’s text bothered me,” he adds.
There’s a voice that echoes through the speaker, someone calling out his name.
“I gotta head out on the ice,” he says.
Right.
He’s in Seattle to play hockey.
“Okay…” I step inside the house but lean back once more to wish him luck. “Good luck!”
“I don’t need luck. I’ve got you.”
The speaker cuts off, and I dart inside the house to pretend his words had no effect on me.
When I glance at Charleigh, I realize she’s fast asleep on my shoulder. Her plump, soft cheeks are no longer red with anger, contentment seemingly settling over her as soon as we made it inside.
Which, ironically, is exactly how I feel too.
Thirty-Three
MALAKI
It isn’t oftenthat I’m completely wired after a game, but since the playoffs start soon, Coach only gave me a few minutes of skate time to eliminate the risk of injury before the most important games.
I easily pull off my dry pads, none of them wet with sweat, and toss them off to the side.
Lars takes a seat beside me on the bench. “You going out tonight?”
Typically, I’d go out for a little while just to keep an eye on Kane and his reckless behavior, but now that he’s been tamed by Daisy, he no longer needs me as a babysitter.
I shake my head. “Nah, not tonight.”
I’ve got energy to burn, but the thought of going out doesn’t quite entice me like before.
“What? Why not? You always go out!” He stands up abruptly, clearly disappointed. “You hardly played tonight, so don’t tell me you’re tired. Plus, I saw you sleeping on the plane.”
He’s right. It’s not often that I stay behind with all the married guys holed up in their hotel rooms, so why does thethought of going to the club, or at the very least a cool dinner spot, sound dull?
“Because…” Emory, already dressed with his bag slung over his shoulder, looks at Lars. “He’s got a fiancée to spend his evening on the phone with. Maybe you should use that accent of yours and sweet talk yourself into getting a girlfriend.”
“I would,” Lars argues. “But every time I lay eyes on some gorgeous woman, she ends up being taken by one of you idiots.”
A collective chuckle flows throughout the locker room. Everyone except Kane finds Lars’s annoyance amusing.
He scowls at him. “Don’t even think about Daisy.”
