“Niko has nice pillow arms, but no,” said Haas. “That guy is too high maintenance.”
Callahan ignored the comment and turned on August, his blue eyes bright behind his visor. “You’re not single, right? I told Quinn that I can handle the girls, and it’s not like you live far from me, so he could come over whenever he wants.”
August held his hands up and glided backward to put distance between them. “I can’t get Quinn to commit to a conversation about us. There’s no chance he’ll agree to move in with me right now, so relax, Cap.”
“Yeah.” Callahan’s shoulders slumped. “You’re right. Sorry, Gusty. I’m doing what I can on my end to make sure Quinn doesn’t feel trapped, but you know how stubborn he is.”
He sure did.
“And—” Callahan pushed forward, following August into the corner until they were far away from curious ears. “Quinn told me…everything. Just basics, and no details, but I get why you were so off at the start of the season. I wish I knew earlier so I could have helped, but I know Quinn has you now, so I’ll leave it at that.”
August touched his glove to Callahan’s shoulder. “Appreciated, but you’re right, Quinn is handling it.”
Callahan knocked his stick to the padding on August’s legs. “Good, let’s get a win for your first night back. That should cheer you up.”
August couldn’t agree more.
“I can’t believe…” Callahan paused and huffed. “I know it’s too soon, but it’s weird to think you might be an uncle to my daughters someday. You—Frosty the Prickish Snowman.”
That was another level to the relationship he hadn’t considered before, but August didn’t mind the thought of being an uncle to the girls.
“They like me,” said August. “One of them calls me Snowy.”
Callahan raised an eyebrow, and August’s grin widened. He was teasing his captain, and he could tell it was well-received by the way Callahan was holding back a laugh.
“The Harlow bloodline does seem to like you,” said Callahan. “You’re like the family pet dog.”
August’s grin slipped away, and Callahan tossed his head back to laugh as he skated off.
But even being the butt of the joke didn’t dampen his mood, because it made August feel like he was going to be okay, even if he was still struggling. He wasn’t alone anymore, and for the first time in years, he felt present in his own life—and whole enough to recognize himself whenever he caught his reflection in the mirror.
That had to count for something.
Chapter 34
August
“Get me off this fucking team,” said a voice who August recognized as Dax Merlin, stopping beside him at the redline. “Actually, get me the fuck out of America. I can’t take this for much longer, Gus.”
Dax was a goofball August knew well from his time in the junior league because he stayed with his family while he played in America before he was drafted. August hadn’t bothered to keep in contact after moving to Vancouver to play for the Bigfoots, so he was surprised that Dax was talking to him now.
“You’re an American,” August said, switching so he could stretch the other side of his hip. “You don’t like Canada, remember? You said it was too cold.”
“I was born in Texas,” said Dax. “I find everywhere cold, including Washington. But at least the women in Canada don’t know me well enough to shun me the second I walk into a room.”
August rolled his eyes. Dax and his girl troubles were a recurring problem, and they showed no signs of changing.
“Can’t help you there.” August lifted his head, squinting as the pain in his temple increased rapidly before easing into an annoying ache. “You can’t tell me you’ve dated every girl in Washington. Just expand your horizons.”
Dax should have no problem getting a girl because, as far as male attractiveness went, the idiot was a looker. He had wild, black curls that women always seemed to fawn over, more freckles than Haas, and dark brown eyes framed by dark lashes. Dax could have been an actor in another life since he was one of the few players in the league who wasn’t lacking charisma, but that charisma always found a way to get him in trouble.
“Expand like you have?” Dax smirked, cautiously reaching across the line to poke August with his stick. “Your boyfriend looks sweet, and the pictures of you two holding hands aresocute.”
August didn’t fight the urge to look toward the bench, spotting Quinn in his usual seat beside Bradshaw’s wife, Beatrice.
“My main problem isn’t the girls,” said Dax, forcing August’s attention away from Quinn to land back onto his old teammate. “It’sonegirl. A girl who is totally married to my captain—and now my teammates want to kill me, and I can’t go anywhere in public without getting shit for my poor life choices.”
August nearly fell on his face from shock. “You fucked your captain’s wife?”
