CHAPTER SIX

V innie

“Dude, this is super fancy.” Isaiah’s eyes slide to me. I’m not used to him looking at me in suspicion. In fact, he mostly doesn’t look at me at all, just how I like it. I’m there early for every practice but talking isn’t something I do. If people have a hard time wringing proclamations about the weather from me, they’re not going to expect me to confide in whom I’m dating.

“It looks absolutely lovely,” Jasmine says, exchanging a glance with Isaiah.

I swallow hard.

I don’t know what they see. They can’t see that. Can they?

My heart feels exposed, and I feel ridiculous.

I shouldn’t have volunteered to come here. I shouldn’t be acting like I’m in a fucking relationship with Evan.

Stella’s babble about breakfast only appears like I’ve been inserting myself into Evan’s life.

“I didn’t expect to see you,” Evan says.

Isaiah winks. “We always enjoy being a happy surprise.”

Jasmine smiles along with her boyfriend, but her large eyes scrutinize me, and her black lashes, thick with mascara even at this time of day, swoop up and down. “But perhaps we should have called.”

“Nonsense. I mean, you’re Evan’s friends.”

“Yeah.” Isaiah gives me that strange look again.

Maybe I wasn’t as discreet as I thought in avoiding Evan.

Maybe other people noticed.

I rake my hand through my hair, and his eyes narrow on me. My hand feels heavy.

“So, you’re still living in Boston?”

Isaiah’s eyebrows raise slightly. “Yeah.”

My cheeks warm. I should know my teammates’ lives better.

EVAN

Something is going on with Vinnie. He’s gone all sullen. It’s hard to imagine that last night he was reading a princess story to my kid.

His eyes don’t glitter.

He doesn’t speak.

And it seems like he’s lost all movement in his lips, because it’s impossible to imagine that he was ever capable of smiling, much less, well, actually smiling.

The worst thing? He’s avoiding me.

Oh.

Obviously, he’s eager to leave. I’m an idiot. Maybe he’s hoping that Jasmine will volunteer to watch me and wondering why I didn’t enthusiastically tell Isaiah and her to stay.

He probably wants to go to his penthouse in Seaport with its slick dark counters and views of the harbor that casting directors would kill for. He doesn’t want to be in an old townhouse with a kid he barely knows and a friend he long ago ghosted.

The problem with work friends is that I still see him most days of the year, and for some reason, we still work well on the ice. So well that the media still report on it. They call us telepathic. Ha. There’s no one I know less well.

Did I tell him too much about myself sometime? What was the action that made him want to pull back? To decide that awkwardness was better than hanging out?

I realize I’m staring at him when Jasmine gives me a strange look.

I hastily sip the cucumber-infused water that Vinnie set out of me.

I have a feeling the strange dizziness around me can’t just be blamed on my lack of caffeine. If I’m honest, I don’t think it’s my head either.

I think it’s Vinnie’s presence. And I don’t know why that makes me so uneasy.

Something clenches in my chest.

Vinnie’s gaze jerks to me. “Are you feeling worse?”

“I’m fine.”

“I guess feeling the same isn’t optimal.”

“No.” I look around for my phone. My head still hurts, and I still hate it.

Vinnie gets up, then brings my phone from the armchair in the kitchen. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.”

“Dude, you brought an armchair into the kitchen?” Isaiah laughs, then takes a large bite of French toast.

“I wanted him to be comfortable,” Vinnie explains.

“Seems you’re telepathic even off the ice,” Jasmine says. “You didn’t even have to tell him what you were looking for.”

“I mean, on the ice, it’s always the puck.” Isaiah laughs, and I try to join in, but something about the conversation strangles around my chest.

“Telepathy isn’t a thing,” Vinnie says, his voice sharp. “It was obvious he wanted his phone.”

“Yeah. Totally.” I nod decisively.

“I’m glad you two are having a good time.” Jasmine’s eyes do that sparkling thing again, as if she’s in the middle of watching a comedy.

Stella tilts her chin up. “Vinnie was sleeping with Daddy!”

Vinnie starts sputtering and coughing, and Isaiah and Jasmine stare.

“In the same room,” I clarify.

Isaiah’s lips swerve upward. “That’s typically what happens when people sleep together.”

“I moved my mattress there. I was worried.” Vinnie glowers, then jumps up and starts putting his dishes in the dishwasher.

“And I appreciated that.” I laugh weakly. I don’t want to make eye contact with Vinnie again.

“You don’t have to explain, dude.” Isaiah grins. “Chill. We know you’re not one of those kinds of men.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Jasmine adds quickly.

“Right.” Isaiah snorts. “I don’t think you know hockey players, babe.”

“You going to teach me more?” Her tone dips into the sultry range, and they do this eye-staring thing that new couples seem to do.

Not that I ever did it with Valentina or anything.

But other new couples do it. The kinds who last. The kinds where one of them isn’t secretly planning to move to a new city.

I half expect Isaiah to toss Jasmine over his shoulder and carry her out. Wouldn’t be the craziest thing he did.

“You’re disgusting,” I say. “Both of you.”

Isaiah’s eyes widen, then he starts to laugh.

Stella looks up from her breakfast. “You are?”

“Your dad is being silly,” Jasmine says lightly.

“He isn’t normally silly,” Stella says.

“Of course not,” I say.

“Someday you’ll fall in love,” Jasmine says.

Stella’s gaze glides toward Vinnie. She’s looking way too interested in this conversation. Shouldn’t we be talking about Moana or something to keep her attention?

But Stella is smart. Parent-teacher conversations are basically just a time for me to listen to her teachers laud her, then casually ask for a photo with me.

I give it to them every time.

“I’m not looking for anyone,” I say sternly. “I have Stella. She’s the love of my life.”

I scoop her into my arms and give her noisy kisses on her cheeks, while Stella giggles happily.

Isaiah and Jasmine exchange one of their couple glances again. I’m not sure how long a couple has to be together to be smug as if they’ve found the meaning of life.

I tried love, and it didn’t work. My mind drifts to the last year with Valentina. The lingerie she used to put on, moving from sassy red to bold black to virginal white and finally leather, as if desperate for me to give some sort of reaction to anything, anything at all.

I’m tired after games. I want to relax. Not give massages or play card games composed of sexual requests. The appearance of toys on my night table, as if the fact that she didn’t mention them made her subtle, even though there’s nothing subtle about a vibrating pink rabbit, didn’t help things.

But I know it’s my fault. I don’t know why I struggled with Valentina, but I’m not eager to begin that experience again. Too many of the guys on my team have gone through divorces.

“So, everything is good?” Isaiah asks.

“I’m fine,” I say curtly.

“More than fine.” Jasmine takes a bite of the French toast. “These are delicious.”

“Yeah.” I munch the French toast. “Tastes great.”

“Good job, Vinnie!” Isaiah calls. “How come you don’t cook like this for me?”

Vinnie grunts and continues to load the dishwasher.

Jasmine and Isaiah exchange glances again.

Whatever. They’re being strange today.

I find Dr. Novak’s number in my cell and ring her.

“You don’t need us to here?” Jasmine asks.

“No. I’m just going to call Dr. Novak and hire a nurse.”

“Oh.” Isaiah blinks. He glances at Vinnie. “Guess you’re busy, dude?”

Vinnie’s jaw tightens. He looks affronted. I wish I knew why. I wish I knew what to say.

“Of course, he’s busy,” I say. “It’s a free weekend.”

“We’re not busy,” Stella says.

“That’s because Granddad and Nanna went on a cruise,” I say.

“You really want some stranger in the house?” Vinnie asks.

“I don’t want you—”

He draws back.

“I’m sorry. That came out wrong,” I say. “But you probably don’t want to be with us.”

“You’re talking too much,” Vinnie mutters. “Get on the couch.”

He shoots an apologetic look at Isaiah and Jasmine. “I’m sorry about him.”

For some reason, they just look amused.

“We’re going to head on the road. Have a nice weekend, Stella! Take care of Evan and Vinnie.”

Her lips curl into a smirk. “I will.”

No one can be haughtier than a seven-year-old.