I hold out my fist and she taps it.
“Back to the game.” Sofie insists.
“Indeed,” Noelle stands and, steps closer to the glass when something across the ice grabs my attention. “Is Mrs. Costello’s box directly across from ours?”
Sofie laughs. “It sure looks that way.”
“Are they waving to us?”
“They are, but how about you move your eyes a little south?” She clears her throat. “I’m pretty sure the cock just figured out who’s in the henhouse.”
She holds my hand against the glass, and I watch as tears fall.
I take Savannah from her as she hurries to the bathroom.
“Oh man,” Noelle shakes her head and looks up at me. “I’m so glad she has you here.”
“I’m glad I have her too.”
“Perfect,” she looks back at the ice, “Now you have to stay.”
“I—”
“Don’t break up the family, Holloway,” Sofie shakes her head.
SIX
The Ghost
Deacon
It startsat the damn airport. I’m dragging my gear through baggage claim, half-awake, half-running on caffeine, when I think I see her.
Dark hair. That walk I couldn’t mistake if I tried — confident, graceful, with that little tilt of her chin like the world could throw its worst and she’d still stay standing.
But it can’t be her.
I blinked, shook it off, and blamed the red eye and the rookie beside me rambling about TikTok fame. By the time I look again, she’s gone. Just another face in the crowd.
Then, on my run through Washington Square Park, it happens again.
I spot her. Or think I do.
Same dark hair, pulled back this time. A stroller beside her, two women with her, all talking and laughing. The sunlight hitsher cheekbone just right, and my chest goes tight — too tight for how fast I was running.
I slowed down to do a double take, but by the time I circled back, she was gone, and so was the stroller.
Maybe I’m losing it. Maybe I’ve got the male version of a biological clock ticking. Too many cute as shit kids around, our owner has triplets for god’s sake. Guess it’s contagious, that domestic bliss thing I never paused to appreciate, to my Italian mother’s dismay. That and my brain, being the asshole it is, filled in the blanks withher.The one woman who ever iced me out completely. And for that dick, of all people. Kyle Dingy. The guy who’s managed to piss off every teammate he’s ever had — me most of all.
Still, it stuck with me. All the way to the rink. All through warmups. Hell, even through my downtime before my game, while in the shower, jerking off to a fucking ghost before coming back for tonight’s game.
I’m wholly convinced it’s my brain messing with me since we’re playing his team.
Loved beating them tonight, seeing him in the opposite goal letting enough fly by to ensure we’re the only undefeated team in the league. I don’t give a shit that we’re only three weeks in. Unbeaten is unbeaten.
The locker rooms are about empty, all the guys headed to Icehouse, a tradition after each win. Team toast, drinks, maybe grab a bite, and then head out with whatever bunny looks like she wants to add got plowed by a pro to her list. No shade, and no shame.
I throw my duffle over my shoulder, and am about to head out when Dash Sterling stops me, “KOK’s gonna try to back out tonight, help me out?”
