Page 142 of Secrets on Ice

Violetta rolls her eyes. “Do not listen to the hippy. She has no idea what she is talking about. She shuns society every day.”

“Because they are a bunch of bitches,” she argues.

“I know, but they are a bunch of bitches with money. They need interior designers, and these girls need them,” Violetta says.

“You don’t have to spend money on us, you have done enough for us this weekend,” I say, waving my hand around.

“Nope, we’re family now. I look after my family,” Harper states.

“I wouldn’t argue, it’s a losing battle. Plus, shopping for others is Harper’s kink,” Issy teases.

“She’s not wrong, it turns me on. I love spoiling people, and you two deserve it. I’ve been blessed with my life, and I’m fortunate. Honestly, ladies, this is going to sound like I’m the bitch, but it’s a drop in the ocean for me.” She shrugs.

My mouth falls open. I want to be her when I grow up.

“Well, thank you. You have done so much for us already,” Cassidy tells her.

“Did Sam reach out? I know he’s been talking about renovating his home,” she asks.

“Yes, he did. We will set up a meeting with him when we get back. He was unsure of what he wanted to do so he said he would get back to us, and he just has,” I explain to Harper.

“Good, he’s an idiot but a good guy.” She chuckles.

“We’re about to start on the Maine house for Collette and Fish, too, so we will be commuting back and forth for that,” Cassidy adds.

“If you need my plane for it, let me know,” Harper says.

“You’re too generous,” I tell her.

“I’m not, I’m being practical. I’m not using it for the foreseeable future. I’m paying for the staff, and you have to use the planes, it’s not good if you don’t, so honestly, you would be doing me a favor. Let’s co-ordinate your plans and mine, and we can make it work.”

She is insane, but I love her.

We arrive at the rink, and we are right down at the front, ice-side, close enough that the boards rattle in my chest every time someone hits one. Harper’s got Bastien in a tiny pair of noise-canceling baby headphones, which is genuinely the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life. When the boys come out for warmups, they spot us straight away.

Felix skates right over and presses his glove flat against the glass, waving at Bastien, who stares back at his father with the blank, unbothered expression of a baby who has no idea his dad is a professional athlete. You can tell the arena thinks it’s the cutest thing, and it is. Harper holds Bastien’s little fist up and makes it wave.

Bouch comes over and squishes his whole face against the glass at us like a golden retriever. Pierre finds Issy and blows her a kiss.

And then there’s Sully.

He does a slow lap and finds me at the glass. He doesn’t do anything showy, he just holds my eye for a second and gives me this small, private smile that’s only for me, and my stomach does the thing it always does now.

Cassidy leans into me. “Subtle. Do we need to talk about something?”

“No,” I tell her as my face turns red. Thankfully, my brother skates over and waves at me, and I give him a thumbs up, which stops Cassidy from poking any further.

Nelly then skates by on his way to the goal to do his little crab walks, and turns and looks over at Cassidy, throwing her a wink.

“Subtle,” I tease her.

“Shh, stop it. It’s nothing,” she argues, and I don’t believe her.

The first period is pure chaos from ice-side. Emmett wins almost every face-off, Sully is a wall on the back end, and Fish scores twice in under six minutes. The boards rattle every time someone gets hit, and Bastien jumps in Harper’s arms even with the headphones on.

In the second period, the home team pushes back hard. They score once then again on a power play after Bouch takes a roughing call. The arena noise turns into a roar against us. Pierre answers almost immediately with a filthy tip-in off a point shot from Evan. We’re up again. Sully blocks two shots in a row. Every time he skates past our section, he glances over, just for a second, and my body buzzes when he does.

Third period is carnage, the home crowd is screaming for a comeback. With one minute left, they pull their goalie. Emmett wins the defensive-zone face-off, chips it up the boards, and Sully is already gone, stretching his legs, one-on-one with the last defenseman. He dekes, slides the puck through the guy’s feet, and tucks it into the empty net. The horn blares, and the Mavericks bench empties.