“We play hockey,” Mitch offered. “For the Muskies.”
There was absolutely no recognition on any of their faces. Annabeth frowned at them. “I don’t trust men who play games. And aren’t muskies a fish?”
Well, then. They weren’t fans. That was…Reassuring. Some anonymity felt nice amid the clusterfuck that was his public persona.
“Someone made food,” Annabeth said, grabbing a plate from the counter behind Tyler. “I just love how generous people are.” She paused at the door. “Happy trails.”
Jamie watched Tyler. He saw the pinch of his eyes as he stared at the counter where the plate had been, the way those beautiful, tattooed hands flexed against Rowan’s back.
“That was your breakfast, wasn’t it,” Jamie asked, softly.
Tyler nodded, his face falling in defeat. “I’m trying to find a new place,” he muttered.
Jamie didn’t know what to say. It was hard to imagine trying to raise a kid in an environment like this. He knew from years of having teammates with little kids how much they needed routines and calm surroundings.
“Is it just you?” Jamie asked, unable to help his curiosity.
Tyler nodded. “Just me and Rowan.”
“Do your moms still rent their attic out?” Mitch asked.
Jamie turned to Mitch.Oh, damn. That was a good idea. “Yeah, and I think their last tenant was getting ready to move out. I’ll ask.” He faced Tyler, who was watching the two of them with that careful, guarded expression. “My moms have a place about five minutes from here, and they rent out an apartment in their attic.”
Tyler’s expression was flat. “Oh.”
“I’d be happy to ask if it’s available,” Jamie went on.
Tyler stared at him. “I’m sorry, but you’re a stranger who just walked into my house and the only thing I know about you so far is that you have some sort of complicated beef with the snowman my son made and you like to smell hair.”
“I–” Jamie blinked. “What?”
Tyler shook his head. “Never mind.”
“Wait, what is this about smelling hair?” Mitch’s expression was much too amused for the current situation.
“Mitchy, give me your phone.” Jamie reached out a hand and his best friend obliged without further comment. Jamie typed in Mitch’s password, and quickly navigated to a search engine. When he’d found what he was looking for, he flipped the phone around so Tyler could see it.
He watched dark eyes look between the screen and Jamie’s face, his serious expression unchanging. Finally, Tyler nodded. “Okay. At least you’re not some creep pretending to be a professional athlete.”
Jamie sighed. “Would you consider the offer about the apartment?”
“You really don’t have to–” Tyler started.
“Honestly, they’d love to have you live there. They’re both retired teachers and love kids.” Jamie chuckled. “They harass me all the time about giving them grand babies.”
Tyler’s dark eyes flashed with something. It was brief, only visible for a moment, before that mask of indifference settled back into place. “Okay,” he said. “I mean, if it’s actually available, then I’ll check it out.”
As they exchanged numbers, Rowan picked his head up from Tyler’s shoulder, looking back and forth between Jamie and Mitch. “Are you warriors?” His face was scrunched up like he was thinking really hard.
“They’re hockey players, kiddo,” Tyler said, handing Jamie back his phone.
Rowan looked up at his dad. “What’s a hockey player?”
“It’s a game,” Tyler explained. “They wear skates and hold long sticks and try to get a disk into a goal.”
As if choreographed, Jamie and Mitch made quiet noises of protest. “I mean,” Jamie began, “it’s a little more complicated than that.”
“It’s a really intense game,” Tyler went on. “Sometimes their teeth get knocked out.”
