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I tip my head in greeting. “Hey, Doc.”
She smiles. “You should probably call me by my name tonight.”
“Okay, Lila.”
“It’s Delilah,” Max corrects. “With a D.”
“Lila, it is,” I say with a wink.
“Hey,” Max groans. “It’s De-li-lah. Like the song, Hey There Delilah.”
I pat Max on the top of her head, and she giggles. After I finish signing my name on the back of Max’s jersey, Lila holds the door open for me.
“Lila’s fine,” she says. “Come in. I need to grab my stuff, and then we can go.”
“Do you want to see my room?” Max asks me as Lila walks away.
“We don’t have time, Max,” Lila says from the kitchen.
She comes back with her purse, and two winter coats slung over her arm. She hands one to Max. “Here, baby, it’s time to go. It’s cold outside. Zip your coat up all the way and put on your gloves.”
My mom used to call me baby. Lila brings back so many old memories I keep locked away. It hurts to think about my mom. No one measures up to her. But I think my mom would have liked Lila. She checks off all the boxes.
Except she’s off-limits.
Lila made it crystal clear that she wanted to keep our relationship professional. It’s probably for the best. She’s right about my relationships with women. I hate dating and don’t want anything other than sex. With Lila, it would be different, I think.
Still, I would end up fucking her a few times, and then I’d move on. I know myself well enough to know it would never last, and we have a good thing going. I like her. I could see myself being friends with her. Could I ever befriend a woman? I’m not Dean, and she’s not Kat.
Our sessions are helping me in ways I’d never imagined. I feel less angry and more relaxed since our first appointment. If I mess this up, I would never hear the end of it from my general manager. He was serious about this being my last shot. I’ve pushed his buttons one too many times. The Caps didn’t give Alex Parker another chance when he fucked the owner’s granddaughter.
Once we’re inside the Capital One Arena, Max’s face illuminates from the smile that stretches ear-to-ear. I remember when I was her age. My dad introduced me to my favorite players, and I thought I was the coolest kid alive. I was so sure I would make it to the NHL one day. Back then, I figured I could rely on the Baldwin name. Until I realized my last name only helped draw attention. I had to rely on myself for the rest. Scouts showed up at my high school games, and by the time I graduated, I already knew where I was headed.
I pull a ball cap on as we navigate the crowded hall, hoping no one notices me. I could have taken Max and Lila through the back, but I wanted them to experience the game like a fan. I keep my head down and slip through the masses.
When we reach a stand, Max tugs on the end of my jersey. “Can we get a hot dog?”
“We can eat whatever you want.” I look over at Lila. “As long as it’s okay with your mom.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Lila glances down at Max. “But no soda after the first intermission, or you’ll be up all night.”
Max throws her hands in the air and squeals. “I want my hot dog with mustard and ketchup and relish and onions and…”
I laugh. “I don’t think there’s anything left
to put on it.”
“Sauerkraut,” she says. “I want that, too.”
“I don’t think they have it,” Lila says. “How about just ketchup and mustard tonight?”
Max frowns. “Okay, party pooper.”
“She’s a handful,” Lila says to me. “I hope you’re not sick of us already.”
“The opposite.”
Lila’s eyes meet mine. “Thanks for doing this, Duke. It means a lot to Max. To me. Her Dad—”
