Page 57 of Hockey Nanny

I looked down at him, then back at the ice, then at him again. “Can you hold it?”

He shook his head, bouncing in place, eyes wide with urgency.

I sighed, already standing. “Okay. Come on.”

We threaded our way up the steps, past knees and spilled drinks, my eyes flicking back to the ice more than once. We hit the hallway just as the roar went nuclear behind us.

The announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers, calling a goal for the Golden Knights.

I groaned out loud. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Henry laughed, grabbing my hand as I steered him toward the bathrooms, the sound of celebration chasing us down the hallway while I missed it entirely.

Despite our mad rush to get back to our seats, nothing much happened for the rest of the game. LA Kings threatened once or twice, but it was the Knights who came out on top in the end.

Henry and I waited near the shuttered concession stand, metal grates pulled down, the smell of popcorn lingering in a way that made him insist he was hungry again. He hopped from foot to foot, replaying bits of the game to anyone who would listen, which at the moment was me and a soda machine.

Boone appeared from the locker room first.

His hair was still damp, longer strands curling at his neck, a duffel slung over one shoulder. He spotted us and broke into a grin that felt entirely earned tonight.

I wanted to congratulate him but barely got the words out before he was on me, arms wrapping around my middle as he lifted me off my feet and spun me once, twice, the world blurring into bright lights and laughter.

“Round three, baby, here we come,” he yelled. “You’re officially my lucky charm. Did you see my second goal?”

I laughed, a little breathless, more nerves than humor, especially when he set me back down and my shoes found the floor again. Because I hadn’t seen his second goal, and also because Dawson and Gage were walking toward us.

Henry was the one to spill the beans.

“I needed to pee,” he announced, unapologetic. “But we saw the part where that one guy tripped over his skates and went into the net.”

Gage snorted, adjusting the strap of his bag. “He deserved it. Ready to go home?”

I reached for Henry’s hand out of habit, fingers closing around his smaller ones, and that was when Boone stepped in beside me and took my other hand. His grip was easy, confident, fingers threading through mine as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

Dawson’s gaze flicked down to where we were connected, then back up to my face. His expression gave nothing away.

We started walking out, Henry swinging our joined hands between us, already talking about the snack he wanted at home, and whether he could be VIP for the next game too.

Boone stayed right there at my side, hand warm in mine, and I couldn’t decide if that steadied me or made everything more complicated than it already was.

Henry was in bed within minutes of his snack, sprawled out, one sock kicked off somewhere under the covers. He’d refused a bedtime story, choosing to watch highlights of the game on his iPad instead. I left him with a promise to turn it off after ten minutes.

I should have gone to my room.

Instead, I found myself in the hallway, barefoot on plush carpet, my heart doing something restless and impatient. Boone’s door was down the hall, light spilling out from underneath it. I knocked before I could talk myself out of it, pulse tapping too fast against my throat.

The door opened almost immediately.

Boone stood there like he’d been expecting me, wearing nothing but his post-game sweatpants, eyes already lit with interest. He stepped aside without asking, one hand gesturing me in.

“Sorry to barge in on you like this,” I said, words tumbling out as soon as I crossed the threshold. “I know it’s late.”

He lifted a hand, palm out, and my mouth snapped shut as my body obeyed before my brain caught up.

“Just so we’re on the same page,” he said, gaze steady on my face, “are we doing that thing where we play pretend?”

My brows knit together. He moved closer, his attention fixed on me in a way that made heat climb up my neck. I could feel it in my cheeks, in the space between us shrinking inch by inch.