Page 59 of Hockey Nanny

And there it was.

A pang stole across my chest. I knew that feeling all too well. Feeling like you weren’t enough. Like you were alone even with people around. Misunderstood, mostly.

“That’s why we have to stick together,” I said. His eyes lifted, and he studied me with a curious look. “I grew up in an orphanage.”

“You did?” Henry looked like I’d just told him I could fly.

I nodded. “And I wasn’t one of the lucky ones, either. I spent years watching my friends get adopted while I…”

He scooted closer, popcorn shoved aside for the time being. “I for sure would want to adopt a star hockey player. That would be so cool.”

“I wasn’t always a star hockey player.” I laughed, the tension in my shoulders loosening. “I was… just a kid. That’s all.”

Henry’s grin spread, satisfied, and he returned to the movie, more engaged now. I went back to the screen too, but my mind wasn’t on the slapstick goals and impossible shots.

I was thinking about Dawson, the way he’d brought Henry into this house without even asking Boone or me. The way he’d set the kid up for disappointment. I knew the kind of slow-burning devastation that dashed hopes could create. I knew how it chipped away at you until there was nothing but anger left.

A kid thought they were getting a family, that someone was finally going to love them, only to get sent back to the orphanage. I wouldn’t have wished that on my worst enemy. And the time Henry was spending with us now only made things worse, because the kid was growing on me, goddammit. Making me soft. I felt it. It was there whenever he was around, zooming through the house with his helicopters, or doing cannonballs in the pool.

I especially felt my guard dropping more and more when it came to Carissa.

“Did you have nightmares too?” Henry tilted his head, breaking my thoughts.

I lowered myself onto the pillows, and smoothed his hair over his forehead. “All the time. But they went away. Eventually.”

He listened, quiet. The movie played on, but I could feel him holding onto my words.

“I know it’s hard, kid,” I said, voice thick with emotion he couldn’t begin to understand. Not yet. “I’ve been there. But it doesn’t stay that way. I’m your proof.”

He threw his arms around me then, warm and small, unexpected. My body stiffened for a heartbeat. Then I hugged him back.

Just then, voices lit up outside the fort. The others had discovered our hiding spot.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I told you they’d be down here.”

I caught Henry’s eye and he pressed a finger to his lips, giggling softly.

Boone’s head popped into the fort. “Mighty Ducks without me? How dare you?”

Before I could answer, he shuffled in, elbows brushing pillows, settling beside Henry like he owned the space. He grabbed a handful of popcorn, spilling a load over the sides of the bowl.

“Make yourself at home,” I muttered.

Dawson and Carissa pushed in behind him, and Henry’s grin spread wide, practically vibrating with excitement. The fort became a snug tangle of limbs, blankets, and pillows. I was pressed to the side, Carissa slipping in between me and Dawson,her shoulder nudging mine, her thigh brushing against me in a way that made me clench my jaw.

I cleared my throat, angling my torso, trying not to press too hard against her, but there was no avoiding the closeness.

Boone leaned back, a smug grin on his face. “Dawson freaked out. You should’ve seen him.”

“I wasn’t freaking out,” Dawson said quickly. “Just confused when I went to say goodnight to Henry and he wasn’t in his bed.”

“You were about to slap his picture on a milk carton.”

Laughter rippled through the fort, and my annoyance with them dissolved. As much as I liked having the quiet moment with Henry, this was fun too.

Boone lifted an arm, and Henry rested his head against the broad expanse of his chest. The kid looked so at home it made my heart ache.