"Oh! Sutton!" She turns with a bright smile. "You're home! I didn't hear you come in."
"What are you doing here?"
"Holden's upstairs. I'm just making us a snack." She gestures to the sandwich. "Want one? I'm happy to make extra."
"No, thanks."
She's being overly sweet, and it sets my teeth on edge.
She turns back to her sandwich, but she's not done talking. "That game Saturday was incredible, wasn't it? The guys played so well."
"Yeah, they did."
"Declan especially." She glances at me. "Did you see him after? He was so happy. So in his element. That's when he's at his best, you know? On the ice, with the team. Just pure joy."
There's something pointed about the way she says it, like she's implying something.
"He loves hockey," I say carefully.
"He does. It's his whole life, really." She takes a bite of her sandwich. "Must be exciting, knowing he's going to the NHL. That's such a big deal."
"It is."
"Must be hard, too, though." She looks at me with fake sympathy. "Knowing he's going to leave soon. Seattle's so far away."
"We'll figure it out."
"I'm sure you guys have talked all about it—the logistics, the distance, all of that."
“Yep.”
"I know how hard long distance is with hockey players. The travel schedule, the road games, the late nights. And they're always surrounded by puck bunnies.”
"I need to go study," I say abruptly.
"Well, if you need anything, I'll be here."
“Like an annoying rash,” I mutter and leave the kitchen before I do something that might land me in jail.
Chapter Seven
DECLAN
I’m stuffing my face with a cheeseburger when my phone vibrates on the table like an alarm warning me not to eat the greasy meal.
I glance at the screen and see it’s my father.
Dammit.
How did I go from barely speaking to him for months to him being in my business every damn day?
I miss estrangement.
"Hey, Dad."
"The invitation came." There was no hello. No small talk. Just straight to business. "Dev camp. Two weeks in December, over winter break. They want you and Reid."
My stomach drops. "December?"
