Page 47 of Hockey Nanny

“Yeah.” I felt like a fool for not being more profound, but it was the only thing I could find in my head. She was so right, and so goddamn beautiful. A knot twisted in my gut.

“You’re different here,” she said, glancing around.

“Am I?”

“Looser,” she said. “Not the captain version.”

“I don’t bring him everywhere.”

“I’m glad,” she said.

Her thumb rested against the label on her bottle, absent, rhythmic. I watched it, then forced my gaze back up. The look I found there damn near sent my pulse into orbit.

Marlena returned with fries we hadn’t ordered, and set them down like a decree. “Eat.”

Carissa beamed at her, the spell broken. “You’re my favorite.”

“Get in line,” Marlena said, then shot me a look. “You behaving?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She laughed and left us to it.

We shared the fries, salt dusting our fingers. She stole the last one, fixing me with a devilish grin.

“Thief,” I said.

“Strategist,” she corrected.

Another round of beers appeared, and that’s when time started slipping without announcing itself. We danced again. This time closer. Close enough to make me aware of every decision I made. She followed my lead without ceding herself. It was intoxicating.

When we sat, her shoulder met my arm. Stayed. I didn’t move. The booth creaked as if approving.

“Thank you,” she said, out of nowhere.

“For?”

“For tonight.”

I met her gaze. “Anytime.”

Her smile lingered, and if ever there was a time in my life when I wanted to kiss the shit out of someone, this was it. With her gaze pouring into mine, her chin tilted just right, lips looking like a forbidden invitation I’d be crazy to turn down. All I had to do was lean in.

But I couldn’t. Like every moment just like this one, there were suddenly too many things bumping around in my mind. Too many reasons not to. Excuses that felt a lot like rational, logical thought. Besides, I didn’t want to be mistaken and ruin everything.

Outside, the night waited. Inside, the world felt right-sized. I stayed with her, letting the hours stitch us closer, one ordinary, extraordinary moment at a time.

Night pressed against us as we stepped out of the bar, the neon bleeding across cracked asphalt and faded striping in the lot. The air had the sharpness of desert cool, and for a second it felt like the city had drained away, leaving just the two of us, the glow of streetlights cutting through darkness, the low pulse of Vegas somewhere behind the walls of the dive bar.

I opened the limo door for her, and she hesitated, eyes flicking to mine. Something in the quiet between us stretched longer than it had any right to. My fingers tightened on the edge of the door, and I felt my own restraint grow brittle.

“I’m glad we didn’t go to the party,” she said, voice carrying the kind of light teasing that made my chest thrum without permission. “They would’ve eaten me alive if we'd stayed.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. I’ve seen you perform under pressure, and it’s impressive.”

The shadows drew us together, the space narrowing until I could feel the warmth radiating off her. Her gaze held mine, and something inside me gave a dangerous twitch. Something I’d used to navigate moments just like this over the course of my whole life. Where my brother was bold, I chose to stay careful. Guarded.

Tonight, though, the walls trembled.