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Dakota struts over to the fridge, jerks open the stainless steel door, and stares at the contents for a while before releasing a heavy sigh.

“Actually, he’s not no one,” she corrects, closing the fridge. “This is Wyatt Patterson. He’s a right winger for the Nashville Guardians, and that’s his daughter, Vienna. His parents own the barn, and he’s got to move his stuff in tonight, so you best be leaving.”

“What? You’re seriously kicking me out?” His mouth drops, and so does mine. I can’t believe she’s sending him away.

Hell yeah.

“I seriously am,” she states.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he complains. “I’ve been waiting for this all night.”

What a prick. I’ve been waiting for her for over a decade, so get in line.

She picks up her T-shirt from the leather armchair and pulls it over her head. Thank hell.

“Nope. I’m not,” she says. “Door’s that way.”

The guy huffs and puffs as he puts on his clothes but doesn’t say anything. All he does is shoot her a glare before he slams the front door on his way out.

Vienna lets out a screeching wail at the noise. “Dada!”

Shoot. It’s her I’m-tired-gurgle-cry.

I bounce her gently, trying to soothe her sobs until she quiets. We road-tripped straight from Nashville with my parents, and she’s taking this transition like a tiny boss. Frankly, I’m shocked my girl hasn’t thrown a tantrum sooner.

I coo in her ear. “Hey, it’s okay, baby. Daddy’s got you. I’ve always got you.”

Dakota watches us with a concerned pinch in her brows. “How’ve you been holding up? Being a single parent looks like hell on earth.”

I smile down at my snotty little girl. “It’s not easy, that’s for sure, but she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. The good days make all the bad ones worth it, and I’m lucky I’ve got my parents to help out.”

Balancing the life of a hockey player with being a single dad has been a grind, but I have two strong women in my life to help raise my daughter. Though, I wish I had a teammate to hang in there with me through all the gritty parts of parenthood. It’s been hard to find a woman who wants to stick it out with me through the shit-soaked onesie explosions.

Fuck, those were gross.

Her eyes narrow on my tipped-up lips. “You’re still so positive, aren’t you? Always looking at the bright side.”

“I mean, yeah? I’d rather focus on the good parts of life than the bad parts.”

I’m a pretty simple man because I’ve got a lot to be grateful for—amazing parents, a job that’s my passion, a beautiful little girl, great friends. Not much gets to me anymore. If the people in my life are happy, then I’m happy.

She snorts a scoff. “Yeah, but the bad parts hit so much harder. It’s the shitty things that always stay with you.”

“Only if you let them,” I say.

“Of course I let them. That’s what keeps me going. I need to prove everyone wrong.”

She’s a cynic through and through, always chasing her dreams, but I’ve never minded her cloudy demeanor. It stems from an innate sense of ambition, which always made me better.

Growing up, watching her chase a dream made me want to go after mine, just to get on her level. My parents never pushed me in one direction or another. They wanted me to figure things out on my own, but seeing Dakota’s drive sharpened me. Every summer, I’d come back a little stronger, wanting to impress her.

In all honesty, part of me always wanted to be a little more like her. Ambitious. Determined. Focused. She’s what got me strong enough to play in the NHL.

Dakota’s eyes shift to Vienna snoozing on my shoulder, but all she does is stare at my girl while I search her face for a hint of her underlying emotions.

I find nothing.

Eventually, she whispers, “She looks just like you.”