8. Kyle

Cam: She hasn’t done the paperwork yet. But I’m almost to you.

Stubborn woman. Why was she so against sending her kids to Little Fingers? Dylan was incredible with kids. A little odd, but she knew her shit. They would be lucky to get to chill with her every day.

And Harper’s fucking comment. No one asked me to help? Bullshit. JJ asked me to help.

I slammed the beer down on the ledge in front of me.

She didn’t know that, of course. But that fact was neither here nor there. Why couldn’t she just be grateful that I’d solved her childcare issue?

“What’s got your panties in a knot?” Mason asked, his focus still fixed on the ice. The Bolts were up by one in the middle of the second period.

I took a pull of my beer and slammed it down again. “Nothing.”

The crowd cheered, pulling my attention back to the game just as Brooks Langfield, goalie for the Bolts, stopped another shot. “The guy is on fire.”

“I think he’s showing off for his new girlfriend.”

I tipped my chin up. “He’s dating someone in the front office, right? You two paint each other’s nails and chat about it?”

Mason turned my way, his lips tight. “Dick.” He shook his head and focused on the game again, but not before I caught a hint of a smile on his face.

I loved to tease him about the way he and Rory had snuck around for weeks.

“Mock me all you want,” he grumbled. “But while I’m snuggled up next to my girl every night, all you’ve got is cold sheets, your own hand, and Hannah on your back.”

I flipped him off.

“Did you piss Hannah off too?” Jasper Quinn asked as he dropped into the seat beside me. “Because she ripped me a new one earlier.”

“Stay out of the tabloids, and she’ll leave you alone,” Mason suggested, pointing at Jasper with the neck of his beer bottle.

“That shit lies.” The first baseman held up his own drink, hiding a smirk behind it.

“Right.” I kicked my feet up onto the ledge. “Sell that to someone who wasn’t there. You deserve all the wrath for?—”

He lurched forward and threw a hand out, but I dodged out of the way before he could touch my hair.

“Hands off.”

“Don’t touch the hair, man,” Mason said in a low tone, mocking me. They all gave me shit about it, but my fans loved my hair, and I had no interest in being caught looking like I’d been electrocuted, then finding the photo circulating online. I was known for my perfect hair, and I wanted to keep it that way.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, so I tipped to one side and dug it out again.

Bambi: It was for the greater good. Let it go, man.

I glared at the message. I still couldn’t believe he’d thrown the race. The asshole really had let me win.

Me: Payback will be delivered.

Bambi: Meme of a guy dancing.

Me: That’s a threat, not a promise. It shouldn’t be exciting.

Bambi: But I love a good surprise. It gives me tingles.

A laugh worked its way up my chest, but I choked it back down. Because dammit, Harper was right. Not that I’d tell her that. Because she was wrong about the rest, and I didn’t want to give her any ideas.

“Why’d everyone bail tonight?” Jasper asked with a frown.

“They want to hang with their girls.” Mason shrugged, shifting in his seat. “After that long-ass playoff run, I can’t blame them. If Aurora wasn’t down there right now, I’d be at home with her too.” He tipped his bottle to the Bolts’ bench, where his girlfriend sat chatting with Fitz, the goalie coach. I didn’t know the guy personally, but I’d heard he was tons of fun.

The door behind us opened, and Jasper whipped around.

“Yes,” he cheered as Cam stepped inside the suite. “The fab four are together again.”

Cam sauntered in and slapped four folders on the ledge in front of us. Then he dropped three bags of M&M’s on top. Good man. I tore one open and tossed a handful into my mouth.

“Hope that excitement remains when you get a look at all that paperwork.”

My shoulders sagged. When the M&M’s appeared, I should have known that I’d be asked to deal with something I didn’t want to do.

“Didn’t Kayla narrow down the candidates?” Mason asked. “Wasn’t that the point of your meeting today?”

With a shake of his head, he snagged a beer from the fridge at the back of the suite. He popped the cap off using the edge of the counter, then wandered our way again. “She narrowed it down to six candidates for the two grants, but I brought a few other things with me. The top folder is yours.”

Mason picked it up, easing the remaining bags of candies to the folder beneath it before putting it on his lap. I’d let him go through them first, then I would weigh in. Though after four years, we rarely disagreed on our picks.

“First, though.” Cam locked his gaze on me. “The repair bill for Harper’s car.”

“Repair bill?” What the hell was he talking about? I tossed another baseball candy into the air and caught it in my mouth. I loved the way it felt when they landed on my tongue. Almost as much as the crunch of the candy coating between my teeth.

“We had her car towed so we could fix the tires and the paint.”

Frowning, I sat up straighter. “We did?”

“Yes, you wrecked her car.”

Scoffing, I tossed another chocolate. After I’d chewed it up and swallowed, I added. “I didn’t touch her car.”

“Maybe not directly.” Cam tipped his beer bottle at me. “But you opened your mouth and produced the words that caused the car’s demise. So in turn, you wrecked it.”

When he put it that way, I got it.

Jasper barked out a laugh. “Yes. That’s like girl logic. I love it.”

I frowned at the idiot.

Setting the candy down, I leaned forward in my seat. “She’ll let me fix her car, but she won’t let me help with the kids?”

Mason looked up from the document he was perusing, eyes wide. “You want to help with her kids? Aren’t you allergic to things like girlfriends and little people?”

I waved him off with a sigh. “I’m not helping personally. I just talked Dylan into finding places for them at Little Fingers.”

“Dude,” he said, his brows practically in his hairline. “Does Cortney know?”

I shrugged. “Seems like those two communicate well, so I’d assume.”

“Oh,” he snickered, hiding his mouth behind a fist. “You are so dead.”

My gut twisted at the warning. “Why?”

With a shake of his head, Mason went back to his papers.

Figuring it was best to leave that potential problem for later, I zeroed in on Cam again. “What’s the deal with the car?”

“She let me have it towed to the shop, but she called and told them to send the bill to her.” Cam dropped into the seat beside me and took a pull off his beer. “Apparently, they aren’t allowed to work on it unless she’s billed in full. She doesn’t care what we told them.”

Fuck. I ran a hand down my face. She was the most stubborn woman in the freaking world. “Where is this place? I’ll stop by tomorrow. Sign autographs, take pictures, get them thinking my way.”

“Two minutes ago, you didn’t want to pay for it,” Jasper piped in, “but now you’re going to make her let you?”

“Two minutes ago, it wasn’t a contest, Jazz,” Cam said as he slid his phone out of his pocket.

That wasn’t exactly true. I’d decided to pay for it before it was a contest. But I wasn’t arguing.

Cam tapped the screen, and a moment later, mine buzzed with what must be the repair shop’s info.

Jasper shook his head. “You’ve got to be the most competitive person ever.”

That was not the point. The issue here was that I wouldn’t allow Harper to boss me around. Her kids were going to Little Fingers. It made sense. And I would fix her damn car because I’m the one who put her in this situation. I’d fix it, but it’d be nice if she wouldn’t make every step so difficult.

“Hold up.” Mason raised a hand. “Is this real? Or a joke?” He held up the document he had laid out on his lap.

Cam shook his head. “It’s a complete coincidence, I swear.”

“What is?” I snagged the application from Mason’s hand and scanned the list of services needed. Typical ASD list. Private ABA, sensory-focused OT, RDI, CBT. Low income. Single-parent household. But both mom and dad had Boston addresses. “What’s the joke?” I asked, looking up at Mason.

“ Piper Wallace ?” He cocked a brow.

My breath stuttered as I scanned the page again. Oh shit. Harper had applied for assistance with Piper’s therapies. They were expensive, so it made sense. But if she needed the financial help, then why the fuck was she so stubborn about the repairs and childcare?

As I reread the list of needs, it hit me. There was no way we could choose Piper. If we did, it could easily turn into a disaster. “She’s not getting a grant, but don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

Mason sighed and scratched at his jaw. “I don’t know?—”

“Veto.” I spit the word out quick. We’d long ago agreed that we each had the power to veto a single candidate for any reason. No questions asked. And I did not want to explain Piper’s connection to me.

The look on Mason’s face as he shook his head was pure disappointment.

“Kyle,” Cam warned, sitting forward and lacing his fingers together.

“I said I’ll take care of it.” I wasn’t refusing to help her. I just couldn’t offer her a grant.

The corners of Cam’s mouth turned down in disapproval, but he didn’t argue again. He knew why I was helping the Wallace family outside of the media issue, and he was fully on board with the idea. So the frown didn’t make sense.

Behind us, the door flew open and slammed against the wall, startling all four of us.

“What the hell, Streaks?” Cortney Miller stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. He was a huge, hulking, pissed-off presence. He might be the GM of the Revs these days, but not all that long ago, he’d been my teammate. As intimidating as he could be, I knew him well. I knew how compassionate and caring he could be, and how not terrifying he really was.

I lifted my chin. “What?”

With a step closer, he narrowed his eyes. “Willow’s eight months old.”

Okay . I didn’t know much about babies, but she wasn’t walking yet, so I guessed that seemed right. But why had he stormed in here to announce that?

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Dylan doesn’t need more. I was okay with getting the day care up and running. But we decided to limit the number of kids this year. Fewer employees, fewer kids. Because Dylan doesn’t need more.”

The man was ridiculously overprotective of his fiancée. And now I understood why Mason had said I was dead. Probably should have taken a step back and considered the reasons behind why the day care had so few kids enrolled.

“It’s only two more. No big deal,” I said, keeping my tone casual.

Cortney shook his head, making his blond hair brush over the tops of his shoulders. “Two more without the staff to handle them,” he growled.

Boy, he was in a mood today.

“We can find someone to help out,” I promised.

He huffed. “Not by Monday.”

Well, that might be true.

“So you’ll?—”

The door opened again, this time not so violently, and in strode Beckett Langfield, owner of the Boston Revs and one of Cortney’s best friends.

“Looks like this is turning into a party.” Jasper chuckled.

“Man Bun,” Beckett barked.

Cortney put his hands on his hips and glared at the newcomer. “How the hell did you know I was here?”

Beckett, who was dressed in an expensive suit, pulled out his phone and tapped a purple icon. He held his phone up, flashing the Life 360 app.

The taller man dropped his head into his hand. “Are you tracking me now?”

Damn, it felt good to no longer be the source of Cortney’s ire or the subject of his attention. I tossed another M&M into the air and caught it.

“No.” Beckett huffed a laugh, the sound at odds with his usually stoic demeanor. “Shay set it up. She can track us all. That way she always knows where Kai is when he’s with one of us. It’s been a thing for a year.”

Cortney crossed his arms.

“But also, I got a call from security when you got here. They assumed you were coming to see me. So imagine my extreme hurt when you never showed up.”

“I love the vibe you two have.” Jasper kicked his feet up. “It’s like watching an eighty-year-old couple bicker.”

Both men glared at him.

“Careful, Peter Pan, you’re already on a short leash,” Beckett warned.

“I do kinda look like him, don’t I?” Jasper smiled. “It’s the hair. But my thighs would look fucking spectacular in those tights.”

I laughed.

“Don’t encourage him,” Cortney warned.

“Why are you hanging with the four stooges?” Beckett turned back to Cortney. “You fighting with Dippy Do?”

“No. Well…” Cortney glanced away and cleared his throat. “Bosco added two new kids to Little Fingers. They start on Monday. And Dylan doesn’t need extra work added to her plate.”

Beckett zeroed in on me, his face fixed in a glower. The guy could be fun, but no one fucked with his family without suffering his wrath. And after he married his wife, her four friends, one of whom was Cortney’s fiancée and also the co-owner of Little Fingers, fell under the umbrella of Beckett’s family. That meant I was on his shit list.

“It’s the foul ball family,” I rushed out, knowing Beckett wanted that situation fixed ASAP.

“The redhead? Huh. Wait…” Beckett rubbed his hands together, one brow lifted. “Back in the day, you made a pass at Dylan…”

Cortney growled.

“No I didn’t.” I did. But the last thing I wanted to do was remind my GM that before he and his fiancée were together, I had. Kinda.

“You have a thing for redheads.” Beckett’s green eyes sparkled under the can lights in the suite.

I opened my mouth to deny it, but before I could, Cam piped up.

“Don’t bother. I’ve seen you with way too many to let you claim otherwise.”

It was true, so I shrugged. No sense denying what was so obvious.

“Oh, oh, oh.” Beckett laughed. “This is going to be so good. The kids are absolutely welcome at Little Fingers. It’s the perfect way to get you and the redhead together.”

My stomach sank at his suggestion. “Don’t even start with the matchmaker shit. Harper isn’t my type. Her kids are cute and all, but she’s difficult.” I frowned. “And stubborn.” Peering out at the ice, I watched the play in progress. “And she’s doesn’t like Puff.”

Although the face she’d made while trying to stay calm and be brave for her kids was adorable. Damn, I’d really wanted to hug her at that moment. The way her nose had creased, drawing attention to the freckles there?—

What the fuck, Bosco?

Pushing away the thoughts of how pretty she was, I let out a groan. “The woman’s making me crazy.”

“ That’s what I’m talking about.” Beckett clapped.

Beside him, Cortney ran his hands through his shoulder-length blond hair. “Normally, I’m opposed to his crazy ideas. But the words that just came out of your mouth could have come from any man who’s finally met his match but doesn’t have her yet.”

Anxiety prickled across my skin. There was no way in hell I’d go there, even if I wanted to. I couldn’t think about Harper that way. There were plenty of women out there I could think about naked. Available, single, adult women. Then there were women like Harper. Women I had to keep firmly in the do not go there zone. Because I didn’t have a death wish, and I knew how JJ would react.

“But Bosco.” Cortney pointed at me. “I was serious when I said that Dylan needs more hands. So you’ll be there not only on Monday morning but every day for as long as Piper and Sam are at Little Fingers.”

All the air was sucked from my lungs. Hold up… What? Unable to breathe, I couldn’t formulate a response, and before I could force myself to inhale, Beckett nodded resolutely. Then the two men were gone.

Holy shit. What the hell had I gotten myself into? I couldn’t work at a daycare.