“He’s a problem.” I shift, pulling the blanket up like a figurative shield.
Piper leans forward, delighted. “Oh, tell me more.”
“He takes unnecessary penalties. He escalates situations. He?—“
“When my sink exploded, he showed up at three in the morning,” Piper interrupts.
I blink. “What?”
“Plumbing disaster,” she says. “Chase was out of town. I called him because I didn’t know who else to call, and he drove across the city half-asleep and fixed it.”
I stare. “He what?”
“He YouTubed it,” she adds. “But still.”
Sophie grins. “He also built my entire patio furniture set because I ‘looked frustrated.’ Didn’t ask. Showed up with tools.”
Scarlett sighs. “He carries protein bars in his car for people who forget to eat.”
“That’s not—“ I start.
“Not sexy?” she finishes.
“It’s odd.”
“It’s thoughtful,” Piper corrects. “Even though it’s mainly because he has an insatiable appetite and eats everything in my kitchen. But in a cute, helpful, brotherly way. He’s not here to eat; he helps with the kids whenever I ask. Tonight he’s with Chase at the indoor kids’ park.” She pauses. “He does the thingwhere he shows up. When things were bad with Chase’s hips. He didn’t leave. Not once.”
That sinks in differently. Because staying is not what I associate with him. Or men like him. Or men I’ve chosen. I shake my head. “That doesn’t erase his behavior on the ice.”
“No,” Scarlett agrees. “But it explains it.”
I frown. “How?”
“He takes care of people,” she says. “That’s his thing. On and off the ice.”
Piper nods. “Someone gets hit, he’s there.”
“If someone’s struggling, he’s there,” Sophie adds.
“Need stuff fixed, lifted, distracted, protected…” Scarlett trails off.
“He’s there,” they all finish. Silence settles. Uncomfortable. Because it aligns with what I've seen. Piper grins. “Oh my God, tell her about when he tried to babysit all three kids alone.”
Scarlett lights up. “Yes.”
“No,”
Piper chuckles. “Yes.”
I squeeze my eyes tight and rub at my brow. “Why am I here?”
“Growth,” Sophie says sweetly, filling my glass and handing it back.
Piper launches in. “He thought it would be ‘easy.’ His words. Fifteen minutes in, one was crying, one was naked, and one had locked themselves in the bathroom.” I choke on my drink. “He called me,” she continues. “Whispering, like he wasin a hostage situation.”
“What did he say?” Scarlett asks, already dying.
“’I respect you more than anyone alive. Please come home.’” The room erupts. I try not to smile. I fail. Barely. But it happens. And they all see it.
