Page 90 of Flashback for the Forward

She peered up at me with hazy, lust-filled eyes, a lopsided grin on her face. “Take me to bed, Cole.”

With pleasure.

Chapter 27

Bridget

“I’m bored,” Crew whined, stomping his foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “I can’t play hockey, I can’t watch hockey. Hell, I can’t even pass the time by scrolling reels on my phone.”

He’d gotten increasingly more irritable after Cole and the team had left for a road trip without him.

“How about we play another game?” I suggested.

“I’m sick of games,” he huffed, pushing his lower lip out in a pout.

I bit back a smile. “You mean you’re sick of me beating you.”

“Same difference.”

“Okay, let me see what I can do.”

Grabbing my cell, I pulled up a familiar text thread and began typing.

Do your teenagers have any interest in having a playdate with the man-child I’m currently babysitting? Please, please, please say yes. *Praying hands emoji*

Arizona: If it were any other time, they’d be more than happy to entertain him for a few hours, but we’re packing up to spend the weekend in Phoenix for a hockey tournament.

Darn. Thanks anyway, and tell Austin to score all the goals!

“What’s that face for?”

My head lifted at the sound of Crew’s voice. “What face?”

“The one where you look like someone told you Santa Claus isn’t real.”

I mustered up the strength to give him a fake toothy smile. “Better?”

He grimaced. “Not really. Now you look borderline unhinged, tiptoeing on serial killer territory.”

With a sigh, I confessed, “It’s nothing. I was just texting Arizona to see if we could pop over to spend time with the kids, but I guess they’re about to leave for a hockey tournament in Phoenix.”

Crew perked up immediately. “We should go!”

I blinked at him. “Go where?”

“To the hockey tournament. Duh,” he said as if it should be obvious.

“You’re joking, right? We can’t just go to Phoenix,” I protested.

“Why not? We’re grown-ups now, Bridge. We can go anywhere we want, whenever we want.”

I mean, technically, he had a point.

“Come on,” Crew cajoled. “Tell me a change of scenery doesn’t sound nice.”

It was like he knew exactly how to play me. I’d made it no secret that I was growing weary of my self-imposed house arrest.

There was a certain appeal to getting out of town. Most notably, having the freedom to walk around in broad daylight without the fear of Aiden finding me—his reach not extending beyond the San Diego city limits. Combine that with the nostalgia of a childhood spent tagging along with Bennett and the Astor twins as they played tournaments all over the southwestern United States, and I was suddenly leaning into the insanity of asking Arizona if we could crash their tourney weekend.