Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

HAYES

"So, this whole kid thing…it's the real deal, huh?"

I laugh, glancing over at Fox, our starting goalie, who is on the stationary bike next to mine, pedaling fast. "Considering she's sitting in the room next door, yeah, I'd say it's real."

I was so keyed up after the incident at George's that I needed an outlet. What's a better way to blow off steam than hockey? So I texted the group chat and said I'd be at the rink for some quick puck and a training session, hoping like hell someone would take me up on it so I wouldn't be here alone on a Saturday night like a loser. When I pulled into the parking lot with Flora in tow, I was relieved to find Fox waiting for me.

It's not ideal to bring kids to the practice facility, but the staff have been making an exception given the circumstances. I've not exactly been a model player off the ice over the years, so to see everyone be so accommodating has been surprising. Especially Coach Smith, who has allowed me to bring Flora to a few meetings. I think it's because I was a Carolina Comet once upon a time, just like him, and that's the sort of thing that bonds you for life.

Hockey is weird like that. The organization might seem big to those outside of it, but really, it's small. Sure, we may battle on the ice on the regular, but otherwise? We're one big family. I'm thankful for that as Flora sits in the adjacent lounge with a chapter book, snacks, and a tablet, which she never touches. I thought kids were addicted to the things, but leave it to my niece to be different about that, too.

I pedal harder just thinking of her and the heart attack she about gave me earlier by disappearing like that. It was like every fear I had about fucking things up with her was coming true right before my eyes. Then I rounded the corner and relief flooded through me until I realized the stranger she was talking to was trying to coax Flora to go with her.

Quinn. Bess's mess of a daughter.

I've met her once before, and it was brief, but damn did she leave an impression—and not a good one. She not only managed to screw up my order but spilled it all over my shoes when handing me my replacement, and I swear she did it on purpose .

I won't even get started on all the horror stories I've heard from her mother, like how she lost her roommate and hasn't told her parents but she's making up so many extravagant lies that Bess knows she moved out. Or how Bess is certain there's something going on with her and her boss, and she's worried Quinn will lose her job over it. There's a whole gambit of things the girl is up to, and none of them are good. She seems like kind of a screwup.

A gorgeous screwup with a great ass, sure, but still a screwup. And while I don't have much room to judge on that front because I was a wreck myself before Flora came along, that's not me anymore. It can't be. I have too much on the line now.

"I just…I can't believe it. I never thought you'd be someone's guardian," Fox says, dragging me back to the present.

"Fuck, man, me either, but it's happening. The lawyers filed for emergency guardianship with the season starting up, and we finalized it last week. My life is over."

Or at least the carefree life I was living. I used to go out all the time, used to stay up way too late, used to care about three things—hockey, women, and seeing how fast I could drive without getting a ticket. Now I care about shit like school schedules, waking up at a decent hour, and making sure I'm on the straight and narrow so I don't leave Flora without a parent again. She deserves better than that.

"Come on now. Don't be like that," Fox says with a stern look, the Southern accent he typically hides well a little more noticeable today. "Having a kid doesn't mean your life is over."

"Then why does it feel that way?"

Getting the call about Flora—one they were lucky I even answered because the moment I saw the out-of-state area code, I thought for sure it was just Aiden begging for money again—felt like the most brutal delayed penalty ever. It's as if life said, Hey, Hayes, remember that time you trashed that hotel room because you scored a hatty and wanted to party? Or in the AHL when you skipped out on praccy and got fucked up in Vegas because you were pissed Coach benched you? Or when you threw those statues into the hotel pool and caused fifty grand in damage?

Now I'm serving time for being a little shit, and I deserve every minute of it.

"Because your life is over," a new voice adds.

Lucas Lawson strides through the door. He whips his towel over one shoulder, climbs onto the bike beside me, and begins slowly pumping his legs.

"It totally means your life is over," he continues as if he's suddenly part of this conversation. "That's why I'm not having kids. I like my own time far too much for that. And my own space. And money. And sleep. That and I'm not good at sharing. I want all of Rory's attention."

Being a proud card-carrying member of the Serpents Singles Club—the official unofficial club for all the single guys on the Seattle Serpents—normally I'd fake gag or make a comment, but it's kind of hard to when it's clear he's head over heels for his girl. Lucas Lawson might have been the one to start the group, but he was no match when it came to falling for Rory Sinclair, a grumpy veterinarian who could give Keller, our resident cantankerous forward, a run for his money when it comes to being irritable.

It's still funny to me that the so-called leader of the singles club is no longer single himself. Nor is our captain, Hutch, who just happened to fall for Rory's twin sister, Auden, last season too. I'm not entirely surprised it happened. Back when I played for the Carolina Comets, a group of guys swore they'd never fall in love, and, well, look how that played out. They're all in committed relationships now.

Not me, though. No way in hell am I going down that path. I made a promise to myself to never, ever drag someone into all the bullshit life has dealt me, and given where I'm at now with Flora, I intend to hold on to that promise even more.

"Don't you have, like, three pets or something?" Fox asks .

Lawson gasps. "How dare you forget about DK! That sweet little baby doesn't deserve that. Between Daisy, Duke, DK, and Rory's demon cat, Hades, we have four, thank you very much."

"You really went with DK, huh?"

"Uh, yeah." He gives me an incredulous look like I'm the one out of line here. "Donkey Kong is the best character in Mario Kart, and my little English bulldog is a chunky dude just like the monkey. It's fitting."

"It's stupid."

"You're stupid," he fires back with a proud smirk, even though we both sound like children. "Anyway, I'm Team Hayes on this. Kids ruin everything."

"So Rory doesn't want kids either?" Fox asks.

"God, no. She can barely tolerate me. Do you really think she wants to bring an actual human into this world?" He shudders. "She'd never."

"And you've talked about this?"

"I…" He pauses, his brow furrowing. "Well, no. But I know her. We're on the same page with it. We're…" He shakes his head, then shoves off the bike. "Fuck it. I'm texting her."

He marches out of the room, heading for his phone, which he's no doubt left in his bag in the locker room.

Fox laughs lowly, resuming his pace. "You know, it's still a shock to me every day that he found someone who puts up with him. Especially after his little confession this morning."

"What a way to wake up."

"For Rory and us." He shakes his head. "So, how are things really?"

I repress my sigh. It's not that I don't appreciate Fox asking questions, it's just that I feel like that's all everyone has done this summer. My lawyer. My agent. My GM. Coach Smith. Bess. Hell, even my real estate agent has checked in with me several times. And that doesn't even include several guys from the team, plus the Serpents Singles Club. Even old teammates from the Comets have been in touch.

It's constantly How are things with Flora? How are you adjusting? How are you doing, Hayes? Variations of the same thing, over and over. I appreciate Fox checking in, but it's erring on the side of annoying now, especially when I'm just trying to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

"About as well as they are expected to be when you get handed a kid you never knew existed."

Fox winces, and all I can think is Same, dude. That's pretty much been my reaction for the last few months.

The initial phone call about my brother's shenanigans that landed us in this mess? Wince.

The judge declaring me sole guardian of Flora? Wince .

Having to tell my GM and coaches what's going on? Wince.

Realizing how badly this could screw up my chances at a Cup with the Serpents? Wince.

Realizing what an ass I am for not putting Flora first? Wince.

I know I should think of her first, I really do, but it's been twenty-five years of just me. It's a hard adjustment to make. This whole situation came out of nowhere, and even though I wish they would, things aren't going to change instantly. I need to accept that.

"Sorry, man. I can't…" Fox shakes his head. "I can't imagine how rough it's been. If one of my siblings was going through this crap or put me through hell like this… Well, I'd wring their necks, that's for sure. I don't know how you're doing it."

"I've got no choice."

"You did have a choice. I know it, and you know it, too. But you made the right one and she's lucky to have you. I know it's going to be a big adjustment considering…" He trails off, sliding his eyes toward me in a telling way.

I chuckle. "Considering I'm a fucking mess myself?"

I can't even count the times I've thought, Am I really the best person to take her in? To anyone on the outside, the answer is a resounding no. I can hardly take care of myself. Before Flora came into my life, I was barely coasting by. Sure, there was always hockey to keep me a semi-functioning adult, but does that path usually involve trashing hotel rooms and partying all night, showing up late to practice and arriving barely—and I mean barely —sober enough to participate? Because that was me.

But I'm also Flora's uncle and her only semi-stable living relative. She needs me. The last thing I was going to do is let her go to my parents, who love a bottle of booze more than they've ever loved me. I don't want that life for her, so I guess it's up to me, whether I like it or not.

Fox points at me. "You said it, not me." He laughs at himself. "But, hey, she's still alive, right? Fed and clothed and all that. Count that as a win."

I'm lucky if I get five hours of sleep a night. Not to mention the fact that I've fed her donuts for breakfast at least four days this week, and for the other three, I made scrambled eggs. She picked shells out for two of those days. And I know without a doubt if it wasn't for my housekeeper, I'd have shrunken her laundry by now. If that's a win, it's a piss-poor example of one. I'm hanging on by a thread, and it's not even regular season yet.

"Any luck with finding a nanny?" Fox asks .

"I…I haven't looked yet." I cringe the second the words leave me.

He stops pedaling. "Tell me you're kidding."

I say nothing, which says plenty.

"Dude." My teammate shakes his head. "What the hell are you waiting for?"

"A miracle?"

"You're not kidding. That's a big ask on such short notice. The regular season is…"

"Just a few weeks away? Yeah, I know."

He's right. I know he is. If I'm struggling now, I'm going to be really fucked here before too long, especially if I don't find someone to take care of her while I'm on the road. Sure, the coaches and staff are being cool about her being here now, but when things are in full swing, there's no way she's going to be able to hang around.

"I don't even know what I'm looking for," I confess. "I've never had to deal with this shit before. Until a few months ago, my biggest worry was not waking up my one-night stand when I snuck out of their place in the wee hours of the morning. Now it's…" I shake my head.

"Sucks, dude, but that's life. As far as what to look for: someone with CPR training and the ability to keep a child alive would be a good start, plus someone Flora likes. "

"Wait, am I supposed to know CPR?"

"I mean, it would be ideal." Fox grimaces like he's sorry he even brought it up. "Want me to ask around? See if I can help find someone?"

"Who are you going to know around here? I thought all your family is down south."

"That…is an excellent point." We both laugh. "I don't know. Maybe Lawson will know someone?"

"Know who?" Lawson strides back into the room and hops onto the bike like he was here the whole time. "Good news! I was right about my girlfriend. She doesn't want kids either. No little life ruiners for me."

"They aren't life ruiners," Fox argues. "Some people argue they make life better."

"And good for those people. However, I don't want kids, so don't make me have kids, ya feel?" Lawson tells him in a serious tone, which is unusual to witness. He's typically the biggest joker around, but I guess even he has his lines.

"I feel," our goalie says, effectively dropping the subject.

"Now, who might I know?" Lawson asks.

"A babysitter for Hayes. Or would it be a nanny?"

"A nanny for sure. Babysitters are like that old lady down the hall who watches you for a few hours while Mom's at work. Nannies are live-in old ladies who do everything like cooking and cleaning and butt wiping. "

"I don't want someone living with me," I tell Lawson.

"Unless you want to schlep your niece back and forth to someone's house, you might not have a choice with our travel schedule." Lawson shrugs. "Besides, it probably won't be so bad. Maybe she'll be a hot older lady, and you can get frisky with her on cold winter nights." The assclown bounces his brows up and down.

There will be absolutely no getting frisky, especially not with my nanny.

"Want me to ask Rory? See if she might know anyone? A wide range of people are in and out of the vet clinic all day, and she could hit Auden up if she doesn't know someone. That woman has connections all over the city."

"Fucking billionaires," Fox mumbles. Auden is, in fact, a billionaire after building a luxury hotel empire, then selling it for some big, big smackeroos after she got together with Hutch. Something about wanting to put down roots with someone and not be tied to a business she wasn't as passionate about anymore. I don't know. That's her business, not mine.

"But he does have a point," Fox continues. "Rory may know someone. I mean, she has how many people in her office daily?"

"I can text her and ask," Lawson offers, referring to his girlfriend .

"Yeah, I guess." I don't know what else to do.

The only people I know here besides my teammates and their partners are my coaches and the training staff. Well, I guess Bess, too, but I've already determined I'm not asking her for help. She has enough on her plate with the bakery and trying to keep her own kids in line, especially her youngest.

"I liked her."

Flora's words about Quinn from when we left the corner store float through my mind. Maybe it's just because Flora is young and doesn't know better, but I'll admit she did look genuinely happy talking to the woman with light brown hair and the most ridiculous pair of lollipop earrings I've ever seen. She was responsive, asked questions, and even used full sentences. She was downright friendly, and as surprising as it was, it gives me hope that maybe one day she'll be a normal seven-year-old.

I look through the massive window along the wall and into the lounge. Flora is still sitting in the same spot where I left her when I began my training session. Her head is bent, and she's dragging her finger along the page of her chapter book, her lips moving as she reads the words. She finishes the page in record time, then flips to the next, doing the same. Though she's lost in her fictional world, that permanent frown that seems to grace her lips is still intact, and I wish I knew how to fix it. I wish I knew how to bring back that spark she had earlier with Quinn.

"Don't sweat it, man. We'll find someone for you," Fox says, mistaking my quietness for panic.

I guess it's not a total mistake because I do have just a tiny bit of panic. I've been putting this off and putting this off, but I'm running out of time. I need to get this sorted, and I only have two weeks to make it happen.

"And if we don't, just remember—she's tiny. We can zip her up in your equipment bag and take her with us," Lawson says, still pumping his legs hard like he didn't just say the most absurd thing ever.

"I know you said you weren't planning on having children, but I am begging you, Lawsy, please keep that promise." Fox shakes his head with a laugh.

I laugh too, though I'm not even remotely engaged in this conversation. I'm still watching Flora, wondering what the hell I'm going to do.