Page 23 of Hockey Nanny

Henry climbed onto the couch again, helicopter held aloft, engine noises returning with full conviction.

“This is the best place ever,” he declared.

I smiled, unable to argue.

*

We found our seats near the glass, Henry bouncing on the edge like he was about to launch himself onto the ice. The arena smelled of popcorn, hot chocolate, and something faintly metallic that made my stomach turn. Henry was jabbering about how fast the players were moving, and I tried to focus,reminding myself I knew barely enough to tell when someone scored.

The game started, and it was clear the Blackhawks weren’t going to go easy. Every time the puck skidded across the ice, my stomach lurched with it. Henry yelped whenever the Golden Knights touched the puck, and I gripped the armrest a little tighter each time. Dawson was already on my radar, moving like a predator. Gage looked tense, coiled in a way that made my chest clench.

And then it happened.

Somebody from Chicago shoved Gage into the boards, and Gage’s hands went up. His face hardened in that way I’d learned meant trouble. My heart jumped. He skated toward the guy, elbows out, and I could see Dawson immediately reacting, skating over in long, powerful strides. My hands gripped Henry’s jacket, fingers threading through his hair as the two of them collided at the edge of the rink. Dawson’s voice carried over the rink noise, but I couldn’t hear the words. I only saw the effect. Gage froze, jaw tight, and Dawson steadying him before punches could fly.

I swallowed hard. Tensions ran so high I could practically feel the heat from the ice. Every time the puck moved toward Chicago, Gage flinched. Dawson skated back and forth between him and the other team, breaking up a scuffle and keeping both players from getting thrown off. My stomach felt hollow, but I couldn’t look away.

Henry clutched my hand so tightly I winced. “Coach Dawson,” he whispered, eyes wide, following every move. I pressed my lips together. Coach Dawson, indeed.

Minutes stretched, and the scoreboard was tight. Each goal for the Golden Knights was a tiny eruption of cheers from us, andevery time the Blackhawks scored, I winced. Boone, who’d been quietly moving through the chaos of the ice, suddenly became central. He intercepted passes, skated like someone possessed, and somehow set up the perfect play in the final period that got them just enough points to pull ahead. I didn’t know the names of all the moves, but the last one was beautiful. He slid the puck through a gap I didn’t even know existed, and the Golden Knights scored. The crowd went wild. Henry screamed into my shoulder, and I caught him before he toppled over the glass.

Even with the win, the energy between Gage and Dawson was a living thing in the rink. They avoided each other after the fight, but I could feel it. Gage’s fists still clenched, Dawson’s shoulders stiff. Boone kept sliding by, oblivious to it, grinning like nothing could touch him.

The clock ticked down, and the final buzzer sounded. The Golden Knights had won by the skin of their teeth. The arena roared. Henry hopped in my lap, bouncing up and down, and I laughed, half in relief, half in exhaustion from my own nerves.

As we made our way toward the exit tunnels, I tried to calm Henry, who was still chirping about every move on the ice. Boone appeared beside us, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes sparkling.

“Hey, you two,” he said, nodding toward Henry. “How about I take you out for a little victory lap around the city? Give Dawson and Gage some time to hash things out?”

I blinked at him, caught off guard, and Henry’s grin only widened at the suggestion.

Boone held up his hands. “Nothing crazy. Just a little fresh air, maybe some food. You in?”

I glanced back toward the locker room tunnel, imagining Dawson and Gage inside, still stewing over the fight and thegame. My stomach tightened, but the idea of a small escape with Boone and Henry felt like a lifeline.

“Yeah, okay,” I said, and Henry whooped. Boone grinned, looping an arm lightly around Henry’s shoulder, and gestured for us to follow.

11

~

Boone

The wind hit like a slap when we stepped outside the arena, freezing the last bits of sweat on my neck from the game. Henry squealed, tugging Carissa toward the curb as she tried to corral him, and I caught the corner of her eye on me. The city lights bounced off her hair, and I swore I saw her hesitate, like she was deciding whether to trust me, or just let me think she was. Either way, I could play.

“You planning to stick me in a cab with a kid and call it a night?” I asked, letting my voice slide low enough that she had to lean a little closer to hear. She shot me that look, one eyebrow arched, and I felt the corner of my mouth tug. That one second, the brush of her shoulder as she sidled up to me, was enough to set my nerves on edge.

“Henry’s the boss tonight,” she said, nudging me lightly. “You’re just along for the ride.”

I let the words roll off me, but there was no mistaking the weight behind them. She liked being in control. I liked watching her pretend she wasn’t. Henry was bouncing ahead, pulling at her hand, and I fell into step beside her, careful to keep my shoulder brushing hers, subtle, just enough.

The cab pulled up, yellow against the city glow. I opened the door for them, letting Carissa slide in first while I made sure Henry got to his own seat without falling over. I followed,slipping into the back beside Carissa. Henry immediately went for the window, pressed his little nose against the glass, pointing at lights, taxis, and people moving like ants.

“You’re sure this is safe?” she asked, leaning a little toward me, voice quieter now.

“Safe enough,” I said. The city raced past, a blur of neon and horn blasts, but I was more focused on the heat radiating from her beside me. Carissa’s thigh pressed against mine as she shifted to keep Henry in view. I didn’t move away. There wasn’t any reason to. She caught my glance, and that smirk flicked across her face that always set me on edge.

“Henry, careful,” she warned. But her tone softened when she noticed the little victory grin on his face as he leaned forward to see the street. I let my hand brush the edge of the seat, close enough to graze hers, but not enough to make her pull back. She noticed. That pause, the microsecond she looked at me, she wasn’t saying anything, but the electricity was there.