Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Niko

I finally understand the English saying, "You are your own worst enemy." Never in my life have I allowed myself to be so careless and undisciplined as I have been around Chloe. I am adamant one moment that she stop flirting, and then the next, I am tasting her skin and teasing her just to see how she reacts.

A familiar panic hit when I watched her tumble to the concrete earlier, one I have only ever felt when Ayana injures herself or gets caught in danger's path. It was...unexpected, and I still cannot explain it. I barely know Chloe. Yet my adrenaline refused to recede until I knew for certain she was uninjured.

I blame the lingering residue of that panic for my ensuing reaction to the text on Chloe's phone. Some beast inside me broke free when I saw the message from this Tanner person. Tanner? That is a boy's name.

Chloe does not need a boy; she needs a man. A grown man who can treat her like the most precious jewel while also reminding her what her body was made for–and the array of pleasures it can enjoy in the right hands. She deserves to be the center of a man's world, something I could not give even if I threw common sense and duty out the window. After all that Chloe has been through, she should find someone as generous as she is. But this man named Tanner is not that person, I can tell you that.

Much time will have to pass before I can forget the taste of Chloe's skin or the feel of her body pressing into my chest. I fear it has become an addiction.

" Blyat !" I curse aloud as I imagine the disappointment on Coach's face had he been standing in the kitchen with us a few moments ago. I am disgusted with myself.

The back door slams and Ayana appears around the corner, her blond hair a tousled mess and her cheeks pink. "Where's Chloe?"

"Restroom," I say, although I do not actually know. Last night, I was the one hiding, and tonight it is Chloe's turn. I should apologize. Later.

"Can we watch the next episode of Bake Off after pizza?" Ayana bats her eyelashes like a seasoned professional.

The timer buzzes, and I grab a dish towel to pull the pizzas from the oven. I have learned the hard way that oven mitts are not made for hands my size. "It is already late. You know bedtime is at eight."

"But, Dad, it's summer."

I set the pans on the cooktop, turning to face my daughter again. Her mouth is fixed in a pout. "We both know you will wake up with the roosters no matter what time you go to bed. You need your sleep so you can be a tough hockey player like Chloe and me."

"It's our first night with Chloe too! Come on, please?" She turns my argument back on me, showing a familiar stubborn streak she undoubtedly inherited from me. "I promise I'll sleep until at least eight tomorrow."

Ayana's reminder that I will once again be alone with Chloe after she goes to bed has me reconsidering. What real harm could it do to let the child stay up a little late? It is one night.

"Fine. You win."

"Yes!" She pumps her tiny fist, making me grin despite my consternation.

"What are we celebrating?" Chloe reenters the kitchen, no longer wearing that blush I enjoy so much.

"Dad says I can stay up and watch Bake Off ." My daughter preens.

"You like Bake Off ?" Chloe's face lights up. "I love that show! Oh my gosh, is that where Paul got his name?" Her eyes dart around the kitchen, looking for the naughty dog.

"Yes! Dad wanted to name him Strakh ." She says the name as if it is coated in vinegar.

" Strakh? " Chloe mimics Ayana's tone, turning to me. "That's an awful name for a dog. It sounds like you're clearing your throat instead of addressing an adorable furball."

"It means terror in Russian," I explain.

But Chloe's eyes only narrow. "Who hurt you?"

I cannot process her question, so I shake my head in response.

"You need to get another dog and call her Prue!"

I glance at Ayana to see her eyes widen with delight. "That's what I said!"

The two females beam at each other as if they have each just discovered their missing soulmate. My heart begins a heavy thrum in my chest, an unfamiliar warmth seeping into my lungs and belly.

But, no, this is not good, regardless of how happy Ayana is right now. Chloe will not be her nanny for more than a couple weeks. I suppose it would be some solace that she will still be her hockey coach, but I may be setting my daughter up for heartbreak, regardless. Fatherhood has a special way of tangling a man into knots.

"We should eat before the pizza gets cold," I say. It comes out harsher than I intended, and Chloe shoots me a questioning glance. I turn my back to retrieve plates from the cabinet and keep my hands busy.

Ayana and Chloe gab like lifelong friends over dinner, and I know Ayana has fallen for her new nanny when she offers to help clean up the kitchen afterward.

"Who are you and what did you do with my Ayana?" I ask as my daughter clears our plates from the table.

" Dad ," she leans in and quietly scolds me before turning to Chloe. "I love helping out. After all, if I'm going to be a professional baker, I need to make the kitchen my space."

"I can't wait to taste some of your confections." Chloe grabs an empty pizza stone and follows Ayana to the kitchen. I force my eyes to the table instead of following the sway of her hips as she passes. "I always thought it would be fun to open a dog bakery."

"Oh! They have one of those by the dance studio! We should totally take Paul there."

"It's a plan, then."

The two disappear from sight as they continue to chat. What in the hell is a dog bakery? It cannot be what it sounds like; I doubt there is much of a market for baked canines.

My phone rings and I retrieve it from my pocket to see Coach Bowman's name on the screen. Guilt washes over me.

"Sir," I answer.

"Niko. Just checking in about Picard and MacDougal. I thought I'd stop by the practice rink tomorrow, so I wanted to find out your schedule." With no replacement coach hired yet, Coach Bowman remains committed to our progress with the Storm Chasers' goalies. I cannot help but think Ivan would have done the same in his shoes.

"Of course. We meet for conditioning at nine. Drills on the ice should be around eleven." I twist my napkin with the restless fingers of my free hand.

"Sounds good." Silence falls between us, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Fuck.

"Coach—" I begin at the same time he says, "Drugov."

I swallow hard. Very little intimidates me. I put myself between the net and hundred-mile-an-hour projectiles on a daily basis, and I can go up against the toughest enforcers in the league. But Coach Bowman is a man who deserves my utmost respect and deference. He has made me the player I am today and believes in me more than anyone. And here I am essentially sneaking around behind his back.

When I don't respond, Coach continues quietly, "My daughter is grieving, and she needs the space to do that."

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

"Absolutely. I understand. She is a very thoughtful person to help me with Ayana, but I promise I will not take advantage of her generosity. I will find a replacement nanny as soon as the judge makes his ruling final." And I will keep my hands off her , I silently vow.

"I know. I just..." he trails off, sounding almost defeated. I need to ease his anxiety.

I let my head drop back, my shoulders falling as I slump against the back of my chair. "You are a father, like me. It is our job to protect and worry."

"Precisely." I hear him inhale before his tone regains its normal gruffness. "Okay, enough of that. I'll see you and the boys tomorrow at eleven. Goodnight, Niko."

"Goodnight, Coach."

I lay my phone on the table and rise from my chair, gathering the last of the utensils from the table. Neither Ayana nor Chloe notices me where I pause in the entryway to the kitchen. Their heads are pressed together, all of their attention riveted to Chloe's phone screen where some song about a boy emanates from the device.

"This is my favorite part," Chloe says, bringing her hand to her chest while Ayana giggles. My fingers twitch as my eyes zero in on the cleavage under Chloe's hand.

Enough! Never in my life have I allowed a woman to drive me to such distraction. It is time to put an end to this recklessness once and for all.

And I think I know the best way to do it.