When the first part—period, he reminded himself—was nearly done, Bea asked him if he wanted to bring the girls and join her when she went downstairs. Sometimes the moms took the kids during intermission to greet the players and help pump them up.
The thought of taking a break from sitting and talking brought a flood of relief.
“Thanks for showing me the ropes,” Quinn told her as he checked to make sure the girls didn’t have ketchup on their clothes or hands before they went to see Eren. “I know the girls are used to this, but this is my first time.”
Bea touched his arm as a gesture of comfort. “I’m hoping it won’t be the last time you watch a game with us. I’ve been enjoying your company.”
Quinn nodded and ducked his head to hide his blush, ruffling Alara’s hair until she whined and swatted him away.
“I’ll think about it,” said Quinn.
Bea’s smile suggested that she knew he would be back, so she didn’t push any further as she, Quinn and two other moms got on the elevator with all the kids, taking them downstairs.
Quinn hadn’t noticed on the way to the box, but the elevator had glass walls on the inside, showing a reflection of himself, Alara and Emira standing on either side of him.
They were mirror twins, so they were the same as Quinn and his sister in many ways. They both had dark hair and creamy skin, but their appearance was opposite. Emira had a freckle under her left eye, and Alara on her right. As they’d started getting more dexterous, Quinn had seen that Alara was left-handed, Emira right-handed. One often led while the otherfollowed, and to nearly everyone, sometimes including their father, they were identical.
Once they stepped off the elevator, Bea led them through a narrow chute, pausing at a section roped off on either side of a rubber mat to the rink. Media and cameras bustled around them, along with team assistants and the team’s social media staff. Quinn tried not to pay attention to them as the buzzer sounded, and tall, muscular figures in blue and green began making their way off the ice.
Quinn was surprised when a lot of the players paused to wave at the kids, gently fist-bumping them or asking for high-fives. Emira pulled him forward, prompting Alara to follow as she ducked under the rope to approach the players, showing no fear in a situation that he would have found scary as a kid.
“Daddy!” Emira cried. She almost succeeded in making a break for it, causing Quinn to stumble in his effort to stop her.
Thankfully, it was Eren, not some random player she was trying to run to. His handsome, sweaty face broke into the biggest grin as he knelt to greet his girls, the large white C on his chest setting him apart from the others.
“You came,” he said, looking at Quinn as he stood. He slipped off his glove and gently booped Alara on the nose, making her laugh.
Quinn shrugged. “I told you I would. Besides, they’re having fun.”
“I appreciate it,” Eren said, and the sincerity shone through in his voice.
An unspoken moment passed between them, a shared grief that stung like a shard of ice to the gut.
A day at the boy aquarium? Yeah, Quinn would tolerate all that and more for the three people his sister had loved above everything else.
A shadow moved behind Eren, and Quinn glanced past his brother-in-law to see the final player coming off the ice with the aura of an angry storm cloud. He was massive even standing fifteen feet away from them, and Quinn knew that he’d tower over Eren’s six-foot-three height effortlessly.
When the man pulled off his helmet, revealing ironically snow-white hair, his ice-blue eyes met Quinn’s, stealing the breath from his lungs.
August Snow.
Fucking hell, itwasjust like high school.
Chapter 3
August
August was frustrated for several reasons.
One: They had barely won against Minnesota.
Two: He continued to fail his assigned job of making friends with Niko Cote.
Three: His captain had been giving himlooksever since the first intermission, and the first intermission had been two days ago.
August wasn’t sure who was more pissed off at his performance right now: himself, his captain or his coach.
Coach Nazar Fedorov was exactly what one would expect a former Russian hockey player and Olympian to be like. He was about as warm as a swim in the Arctic Ocean and as friendly as a polar bear.
