Biting my lips between my teeth to stop the threatening tears from falling, I shake my head.
“Wow.”
Yeah. She’s about where I’ve been since I found out who Raffi is.
“And he wants,” She points at me, then at Wyatt, who’s sucked into Blippi on his tablet. Yes, I’m that mom, so sue me. “To be a family.”
Another nod.
“And you hate hockey, hockey players, and all things connected—loosely or otherwise—to the sport?”
I’m starting to feel like one of those nodding toys people put on the dashboard of their car.
“But there’s obviously still chemistry between you.” She holds up her palm to my face. “Don’t even try to lie, Tori. The whole hockey store felt the sizzle. If you couldn’t feel it you need to get your—” She looks around. “Girl parts checked out,” she finishes in a whispered hush.
“Mama?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“What are girl parts?”
Eloise turns a shade of red I’m not sure I’ve seen before and drops her head into her hands muttering “Sorry,” over and over again.
“Nothing you need to worry about until you’re older, kiddo.” I ruffle his hair as he goes back to staring at his screen.
“Of all things he picked out to repeat, it had to be that one?” Eloise is beet red.
“Kids are dicks, man.”
“I’m not a dick, mama!” My son swats indignantly at my hand caressing his hair.
For fuck’s sake. He can multitask when it comes to parroting cuss words but not when I tell him to turn his screen off or come for dinner?
Kids really are dicks.
Eloise groans, her whole body now shaking with laughter.
This is first class parenting right here.
When Eloise finally stops laughing, her stare grows distant, and she’s quiet for a while.
“Whatis it?”
She sips at her hot cocoa, shaking her head. “It’s not my place.”
“Eloise…?”
“Ares is worried about Raffi. He mentioned it.” She flaps her hand like she’s talking a while ago, in the past, not today or yesterday. “He says he’s pushing himself too hard. Training all the time, either at the gym with the team, with a personal trainer, practice, games, eating stuff he doesn’t normally eat.”
“How the hell can he afford to pay for a personal trainer?” I only ask because I know he doesn’t have a lot of disposable income, and if it wasn’t for the killer sale I got for sessions with Phil, I couldn’t afford to go.
Eloise doesn’t miss a beat. “Ares and his brothers pay Phil for whoever on the team needs training. Kind of like a retainer I guess. If you want personal training, you go, and they foot the bill.”
I don’t know what to process first, the fact they havethatmuch money, or the fact they’re using their super powers for good. If they keep this shit up I’m going to have to fully rescind my ‘hockey players suck’ thing.
“Ares says he thinks Raffi is afraid of losing his place on the team and going too far to keep it.”
Nodding along with everything she’s saying, I sigh. “I think he’s still having symptoms from his concussion.”
