“I wouldn’t be here if I could get back to work. The sick pay is minimal, and Freya is struggling to pick up more hours?—”
“How much does Billie need?” I repeat my earlier question in a soft, almost-coaxing tone.
“She’s talking about searching for a job, and I can’t have her?—”
“No fucking way,” I cut him off again, voice filled with emotions any family friend shouldn’t really be feeling.
Thankfully, Scott is too caught up in his own emotions to pay any notice to mine or the way the trembles in my hands only increase.
“Forty would probably be enough,” is all he says, pain penetrating his words.
I sit back on the couch, studying him carefully. “Are you sure?”
He nods once, and I decide not to press. This is killing us both as it is, and we share the same priority—Billie and Blake.
“I would secretly sell Shelby if I didn’t think you would find out and be mad at me.”
I arch a brow at him. Scott is absolutely right; I would be mad at him for doing that. Shelby has been in his family for years.
“If you sold her, I’d buy her back, no matter what price the new owner demanded.”
Scott just shrugs. “I’m here because I’ll do anything for my girls.”
Same, buddy. Same.
“When do you need the money?”
“As soon as you have it.” He scuffs the floor with his sneaker. “I really appreciate this, Emmett. My family owes you so much.”
His gratitude slams into me like a lead weight.
“How about by tomorrow?”
“That would be awesome. And I know Billie and Freya would be really thankful, too, if they knew.”
All I can do is subtly nod. There are no appropriate words for this moment, and I refuse to feed him any more bullshit.
I tip my chin at his crutch, knowing the sooner he can be back on his feet, the better. Like his daughter, Scott’s happiness relies on his independence. “How much longer until you can get back to work?”
Another shrug. “Two more weeks, and I’ll be able to start taking steps without an aid. But it’ll be at least eight before I can undertake light duties at work.”
I roll my lips together. Things between us feel strange—or maybe that’s my guilt showing. We haven’t been spending as much time together as usual, and I’m acutely aware of it. That said, he’s been housebound, and I’ve been actively avoiding him where I can.
Like the fantastic friend that I am.
“You really did a number on yourself, huh?”
When his gaze drops to my knee, I know exactly what response is coming.
“Others might not have noticed, but I could see the way you moved on the ice during the Scorpions game. Are you sure that you’ve got another season in you after this one?”
I fold my arms across my chest, and my reply is defensive. “I’m not ready to say goodbye to the NHL yet.”
I can see that he understands, even if I’m not sure he agrees. “And what about after pro hockey? Have you thought much about your life then?” His gaze roves my home. “You need to start building a life for yourself outside of the arena, Emmett.”
If I thought that the atmosphere was awkward before, it had nothing on how it feels now.
“Maybe it’s time to reconsider dating.” He clears his throat. “I’m guessing you already know that Maria’s seeing someone.”
