Page 41 of Hockey Nanny

“This is why I said to leave it,” he muttered, but there was no real argument behind it. “These things heal fine on their own.”

I ignored him, working with deliberate care, cleaning along the edge of the cut, the faint sting pulling another flinch from him. Our eyes met, and for a stretch of seconds it was just the two of us in the dead of night, the faint crackle of the stove under the pan he’d just used, and the slow, deliberate motions of fixing him up.

“Relax,” I said softly, pressing the band-aid over the thin line. “There. Done.”

Gage leaned back, a hand idly brushing the counter near mine. I caught the small shift of his body, the way he didn’t recoil from it. Trust, unspoken and effortless, filled the space between us. It was charged with something else, too, but neither of us was ready to call it out.

He finally exhaled. “Thanks.”

I set the kit aside, and cleared my throat. “Just because I’ve promised to patch you up doesn’t mean you should be reckless every chance you get.”

“That’s just who I am.” His easy smile returned, eyes glinting with mischief. “Man of risk. Danger.”

I narrowed my eyes, catching the faint flicker behind his confident posture. “You don’t fool me, you know. You care aboutBoone and Dawson, and putting your body on the line is how you show it. But there are other ways.” I nodded toward the empty plates. “Like incredible chicken and sautéed vegetables, for instance.”

He studied me, chest rising and falling, and didn’t argue. Nothing but quiet acknowledgment and the way his gaze softened, just a little, before he finally murmured, “Fair.”

I stood, tucking the kit away, feeling the shift in the air. Something about him had dislodged and been laid bare. A side I hadn’t seen. Hadn’t known was there. Someone who fought his way through everything and yet, beneath it all, could be quietly present, quietly generous.

As I walked out, I knew I’d been given a glimpse of who Gage could be when he wasn’t hiding behind a wall of anger and aggression. Not cold or distant, but a man who cared deeply, and could cook up a storm.

It was this image playing in my mind when I ran into Dawson stepping out of my bedroom upstairs.

“Everything okay?” My voice was surprisingly steady for someone instantly consumed with the fear of being fired. All that hard work from Gage downstairs was instantly erased, and I found myself paralyzed all over again.

Dawson nodded, and stuck his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. I was sure he’d gone to bed hours ago, but he was still dressed. And apparently, looking for me.

“Are— are you okay?” He studied me closely, probably noticing the sickening shade of green I’d just turned.

It was a gentle probe in the right direction, but after the week I’d had, the crying session on the sofa, the surprisingly good heart-to-heart with Gage… I just didn’t have it in me to keep beating around the bush.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “For what happened with Boone. It was totally unprofessional, and… and unethical. I crossed a line, and I understand if you don’t want me working for you anymore. It was a mistake. I never should’ve—”

“It’s okay.” Dawson had closed the space between us, the warmth of his hand seeping into my cheek. He met my eyes with a pained expression that made the rest of my speech wither away to nothing. His thumb slowly grazed my skin, making the hairs on the back of my neck prickle unexpectedly. “It’s okay, Carissa. I’m not going to fire you.”

“Y—you’re not?”

A wistful smile curled his lips, but didn’t do much for the cryptic shade of sadness turning his eyes a deeper shade of green. “My brother’s always been the bold one. Even as kids, he never let his fears hold him back.”

My heart picked up, thudding in my ears as I realized the confession for what it really was. Finally understanding the look in his eyes. I swallowed, but when I was about to reply, Dawson blinked a few times fast. It was as if he’d just realized how close we were standing, how his hand still cupped my cheek.

He backed up without a moment’s hesitation, shaking his head as if to rearrange his thoughts. “I, uh… I actually came to your room to see if you were up. To ask if you’d like to go to a party with me.”

“Now?”

“No.” He gave a light laugh. “Next week. Events threw together this black-tie thing…”

My face must’ve been doing something weird, because he trailed off and went back to looking at me a little too closely. I wasn’t sure what he’d expected. I was ready to go into my roomand start packing. Never to see any of them ever again. Instead, my brain now had to deal with a sudden party invitation.

“Did you hear what I—?”

“I heard.”

“Okay. Good. And?”

I heard the word, “Yes,” fall out of my mouth while a million thoughts barreled through my head at the same time. And before I’d regained full control, it was followed by, “I’d love to go with you.”

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