Chapter Six

Chapter Six

You Know Better

Sidney

“Well.” I cross my arms. “What do you boys have to say for yourselves?”

“Your date was hot, Mr. B.” Randy runs his hand through his hair.

I glare at him.

He drops his gaze to his feet. “Well, she was.”

“Shut the F up, dude,” Miller mutters.

“I understand that your hormones govern many of your decisions and that it can be a challenge to exercise control over your impulses, but at no point is bending a girl over my couch acceptable. It’s damn well disrespectful.”

My son’s eyes widen, and he glances at his friend.

Randy’s cheeks are turning red. “I’m sorry, Mr B. We got carried away.”

“Ya think?” I rub the back of my neck. Randy doesn’t have it the easiest. His parents are divorced, and his dad is a grade A jackass. Not that I would ever say that to Randy, but his dad isn’t much of a role model. “Are you being safe at least?”

“Sir, yes, sir. I always use condoms,” Randy says. “I don’t want to mess up my future or anyone else’s.”

I glance at my son. His face is stop sign red. He tucks his hands in his pockets. Then untucks them and clasps them together. “I have condoms too, but I haven’t had to use them yet.”

Miller is shy compared to Randy, who is proving to be quite the ladies’ man. Until last year, Miller had a significant overbite, which we were correcting with braces. And then he got his front teeth knocked out when a puck hit him in the face. For whatever reason, after his front teeth went missing, the girls have been calling a lot more often. It might also have something to do with his massive growth spurt and the thirty pounds of muscles he’s put on over the past year.

I point at my son. “Miller, you’re grounded for the next two weeks. The only time you’re allowed out of the house is for hockey and school.”

“But dad—”

“Don’t ‘but Dad’ me. You said you were going to a movie and instead you brought girls home while I was on a damn date. I look like I don’t have a handle on what my kid is up to when I’m not around. And maybe I don’t.” I pace the kitchen. “Randy, you should go home.”

“Are you gonna tell my mom?” His eyes are wide with worry.

“What do you think I should do?” I throw it back at him.

He looks from Miller to me and back again. Miller just shrugs, but I can see the same concern echoed in his eyes.

“I don’t want to upset her. And I don’t want her to think I’ll end up being exactly like my dad.” He bites his thumbnail.

Most of the time Randy has it together, but his relationship with his parents can be tough. I sigh. “There’s a fundraiser coming up and we need help putting together the prizes. You two will spend your time off the ice helping with that. Not as a punishment, but so I know where you are and what you’re doing, and so you can give back to the hockey community in a meaningful way that isn’t using your promising professional hockey career to get into girls’ pants.” Randy is a year ahead of Miller and he’s already been drafted. As soon as the school year ends, he’ll be playing for the farm team in Toronto.

They both nod and mutter their agreement. Randy apologizes, tells Miller he’ll see him tomorrow, and leaves.

Miller waits until the front door closes before he speaks. “I’m really sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to mess up your date.” He chews on the inside of his lip.

“What were you thinking?” I blow out a breath. “Never mind. I already know the answer. Look son, I understand that you’re getting a lot more attention from girls now, and that’s only going to increase once you’re drafted, but lying about your plans and then bringing girls home is not a good way to show maturity.”

“I know, Dad. I’m sorry. It’s just…Millie’s been coming to a lot of games lately and my room is more private and comfortable than the back seat of Randy’s truck.”

I choke down a laugh. I honestly don’t want to know how often they’ve used the back of Randy’s truck to pull this kind of shit. “What are the most important rules for dating women?”

“Come on, Dad.” His cheeks flush and he drops his head.

“Oh, so you can bring girls up to your room and Randy can entertain his in my living room, but you don’t want to talk about the important stuff.”

He blows out a breath. “No means no.”

“That’s right. And...” I make a go on motion.

“She can change her mind at any point. Doesn’t matter how close I am to getting the puck in the net, if she’s not comfortable, then I can get sent back to the bench.”

“Correct. What else?” I find using hockey terminology helps make sex talks easier and less awkward.

“Score her goal first before I score one for me.” He bites his bottom lip and fights a grin.

I don’t even want to know what that’s about. I wave him off. “Go to bed. You have a game at eight.”

He heads for the stairs. “Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry I ruined the end of your date.”

“You didn’t ruin it.”

“Well, you brought her back here, and you weren’t expecting us to be here, and then she had to drive Millie and Claire home, so we kinda cockblocked you.” His eyes go wide. “Shit. That’s—sorry, Dad.”

“You didn’t—” I shake my head. “Go to bed Miller.”

“’Kay.”

He disappears up the stairs and I head for the fridge and crack a beer, guzzling half of it in three swallows as I cross through to the living room. I pause at the fireplace mantel and pick up the photo of my late wife and our toddler son. I took it before the cancer diagnosis. Before all her hair fell out from the chemo and the weight loss.

Remembering her doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. But the hollow pang is still present, still real. Miller doesn’t really remember her, which is probably good because the final months were tough. “I’m trying my best. I’m sorry you had to witness that tonight.” I scrub a hand over my face, set the photo on the mantel, and flop down on the lounger.

Inviting Skye over was probably premature. Randy’s and Miller’s antics saved me from moving too fast. We definitely have chemistry, and that dress. Good God, all I wanted to do was peel her out of it. At least I know I can have a three-hour hard-on without the help of chemicals.

I slide my phone out of my pocket and message Skye to see if she got the girls home okay. I need to send her a thank you and apologize. But she doesn’t get back to me right away.

I finish my beer, drop it in the recycle bin and go upstairs to get ready for bed. Miller’s light is off, so I’m hoping he’s asleep. I strip down to my boxers and head for the bathroom. Once I’ve brushed my teeth, I turn off the lights and climb into bed. It’s been more than half an hour since I texted Skye and she still hasn’t responded.

I scroll Skye’s social media and come across a picture of Skye on vacation with her parents and her daughter. She’s wearing a bikini. I’d like to say I keep scrolling, but I don’t. Instead, I go to her albums and search for one labeled Beach Vacay.

And I hit the motherlode. There are endless pictures of Skye on the beach, in the restaurant, on excursions, dressed in various outfits. And of course, because she’s wearing a bathing suit in many of them, my body starts to react. I consider my options. I can ignore the issue and eventually it will go away, or I can manage it. Option two is far more alluring.

As if she knows what I’m thinking about doing, Skye messages back. I read the message through twice. She’s just dropped the girls off. But she left here over an hour ago.

I message back:

Sidney : Did you have to drive across town? Is everything okay? Lmk.

I don’t hear back for a while, so I assume she’s still driving. I must fall asleep because I’m startled awake by the buzz of my phone on my chest.

Skye : Everything’s fine on my end. I had a girl-to-girl talk with Claire and Millie and we ended up going to a café that I’m now in love with. Picked up Violet and she had quite the night. Seems like there’s something in the air. 12 Hope all went well with the boys. *crossed fingers emoji*

I compose a reply, but it takes a while since my fingers are apparently half asleep, too:

Sidney : Talk with the boys was appropriately awkward, but it needed to be had. Thank you for dealing with the girls. That wasn’t how I envisioned our date ending. Maybe we can check out that café next week, if you have time in your schedule and I haven’t completely scared you off.

Skye : you haven’t scared me off at all. The opposite, in fact. I love that your priority was managing your son and his friend tonight, and that you accepted my help with the girls. I would love to see you next week. Let’s chat tomorrow and see what works in our schedules.

“Fuck yeah.” I fist pump.

Sidney : Miller has a game in the morning, I’ll message when he’s on the ice. I’m very much looking forward to hearing about your chat with the girls. :)

Skye : Ha! It was enlightening on both sides. Chat soon. Night.

Sidney : night

I set my phone on my nightstand and go to sleep with a smile on my face.