Meeting his mother is not how I saw this day going. I swallow hard, trying to wrangle my expression into something less gobsmacked as I straighten my shirt.
“Mrs. Novotny.” I extend my hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”
Her perfectly manicured hand grasps mine, her grip surprisingly strong. “Likewise, Mr. Harper. I've heard . . . interesting things about you.”
There's a glint of something in her eye, a sharpness that makes me wonder exactly what she's heard. And from whom. But her smile seems genuine enough as she steps past me into the apartment.
I close the door, and when I turn, she’s surveying the apartment, one brow arched. “Nice place. Cozy. Lots of potential. I can see why my son purchased the building.”
I doubt Viktor was thinking about real estate investments. And I can't tell if her words are a compliment or a criticism.
She perches on the edge of the couch, ankles crossed primly. “I understand there was some . . . unpleasantness with your job, Mr. Harper.”
I tense, my stomach twisting. “Yes, ma'am. I . . . I was fired.”
She waves a dismissive hand, as if discussing the weather. “Not to worry. That's been handled. You've been reinstated, with a formal apology from the university forthcoming. Coach Nieminen will be reaching out to you shortly with the details.”
I blink. Once. Twice. Three times. I must have misheard. “I . . . What?”
Viktor snickers, squeezing me tighter. “Mom verbally castrated Ghoram. It was epic.”
“I . . . Thank you,” I manage, my voice gruff with emotion. “Really. I don't know what to say.”
Her gaze softens imperceptibly. “You're welcome. I know how happy you make Viktor. That's enough for me.”
A sudden thought occurs and I turn to Viktor, brows furrowing. “Rinne texted me a few minutes ago. Did you set Ghoram's fucking car on fire?”
He blinks up at me, all wide-eyed innocence. “Um, define, ‘set on fire’?”
“Chaos.”
“Ugh, fine! Yes, I torched the dean's Audi. What was I supposed to do, send him a strongly worded email?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, torn between throttling him and laughing. “You can't just go around burning people's shit when you're pissed. Two wrongs don't make a right.”
He huffs. “Baby, I was making a point, not a right.”
God, save me from stubborn, vindictive hockey players. But I can't quite stop the chuckle that escapes. “You're impossible. You know that, right?”
He grins, unrepentant. “You love me anyway.”
“Yeah, I do.”
Viktor releases me and drops down onto the couch next to his mom, then a flash of white in my peripheral vision catches my attention. Mouse is peeking out from behind the couch, her one blue eye and one green eye fixed on Viktor.
He glances over just in time to see her crouched, wiggling her little butt. A split second later, she launches herself at him with a mighty war cry.
“Shit!”
She latches onto his jaw, her teeth digging in before she starts aggressively licking his face, rumbling like a tiny chainsaw.
“Mouse, what the fuck!” Viktor sputters, trying to fend her off, but he's laughing, his eyes bright with joy. “I missed you too, you little demon.”
“Like recognizes like.” Mrs. Novotny continues to watch the two with an expression caught between amusement and bemusement. “Maybe I should’ve gotten him a cat growing up.”
I glance at her. “He didn't have any pets growing up?”
She looks at me like I've sprouted a second head. “Have you met my son? His twin sister is even worse. I assure you, I did not have the bandwidth to add an animal to the mix.”
