Page 33 of Ice Queen

“Mhm.” Her eyes sparkle as her smile grows. “I do know that.” She takes a step closer. “So why’d you run away from her?”

She’s nearly toe to toe with me, the door slowly falling shut behind her, and the strength with which I gulp, I’m sure, could be heard from the other room.

My hand grabs the top of the door before it can close, and I shift around the side of her. “I didn’t run. I was late, and I needed coffee.”

“Just like you’re not running now, right?” She throws back.

I pause, one foot in the hall, one still in the bathroom, my hand white-knuckling the door as I look over my shoulder at her. “Hannah, please, whatever you’re trying to do, don’t.”

Her shoulders fall, and her smile slips a bit. Only to completely deflate when I say, “I’m not what someone like her needs, and I won’t be the reason someone else gets hurt.” It’s a hard thing to explain. The way I stay almost too well, and it’s always everyone else who pays for it.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Sammy,” she whispers.

My throat tightens, and my eyes fall to the floor, “No, Han. You give me too much credit. The best parts of me died a long time ago.”

“Markus,” she says, her hand resting on the outside of my elbow. “That’s not true, and you know it. Give her a chance. Give yourself a chance to find a love worth being better for.”

She smiles when my eyes meet hers. “You can’t tell me that Monroe didn’t bring out the best of Lettie. That Grey didn’t bring out the best of me. And well, the jury is still out on Tate and Abby. But you get the point.”

My laugh softly fills the bathroom, leave it to Hannah to make some joke that has me letting my walls down, even if just a little bit. “Alright, she’s beautiful. But I really don’t think I’m the right one for her. And please, for the love of all things good, don’t meddle.” I pin her with a pointed look, and she holds her hands up in surrender.

“Scouts honor, just don’t shut yourself off from the possibility that you might be exactly what she needs. Or maybe it’s her who is exactly what you need,” she says before turning on her heel and skipping down the hall.

Taking a deep breath, I hold it until my lungs start to burn, slowly letting it out as I drag a hand down my face. Damn it. I’m screwed.

Back in the living room, Abby and Lettie are introducing Kaitlyn to everyone she didn’t meet at Sports Romance Night. Her smile looks a little unsure, but she extends her hand and shakes each of my teammates.

“Wanna take bets?” Monroe whispers as he steps up beside me.

I look at him out of the corner of my eye. “Bets on what?” I already know I’m not going to like the answer. Bets with Monroe very rarely fare well for anyone.

“Who the girls are going to set her up with.” My head rears back as if he just slapped me.

“What?” I grind out, my jaw clenched so tight the muscle jumps.

He chuckles, eyes still locked on his wife, blissfully oblivious to my reaction, thank God, because he’s almost as bad as Hannah.

“There’s no way they’ll bring her around all the time and not try to hook her up with one of the guys. You know how they are. ‘We gotta expand the girl gang.’ And all that.”

My stomach sours, jaw clenching at the thought. My muscles lock up, Reed stands in the corner with his arms crossed, one eyebrow hikes, and I shake my head, playing it off like it’s nothing. But then, Andrews slings his arm over Kait’s shoulder, and she flinches. My feet move before my mind can catch up.

“Alright, buddy. That’s enough. No scaring off the new girl. Abby would castrate you if she never came back.” I pick his arm up off her shoulder, then drop it once she steps away.

Our goalie covers his crotch, eyes narrowing on Abby’s face as she wiggles her eyebrows. I walk back to my usual spot on the couch on the opposite side of the room while Abby drags Kaitlyn to the spot Monroe used to sit in between her and Hannah.

Cam starts to cry, and Lettie takes him from Monroe, only to grab a bottle from the warmer and hand it and the baby to me. “Uncle Sammy time,” she says with a wink.

Taking the little nugget in my arms, I cradle him against my chest. My bicep nearly swallows his head, but it probably feels like a pillow to him. He pulls a smile from me as he tries to focus on me, or maybe the ceiling, I’m not really sure.

“¿Quién es el mejor bebé del mundo? Tú, mi rayo de sol.⁠*” I whisper, bringing the bottle to his lips.

When they asked me if I wanted to be Cam’s godfather, I said yes without a second thought. I always wanted to be a dad, probably because I have such a good one. Maybe because I thought I’d be a dad by now, regardless, I get to live all my daddy dreams when I babysit this little guy. And the best part is, I get to give him back at the end of the night. It’s the best of both worlds if you ask me.

The chatter of the room fades away as I watch the “liquid gold” in the bottle disappear. I spilled it one time, and Lettie cried for over an hour. Apparently, I “don’t know what it’s like to wake up with rocks for boobs.” And I am so thankful that I don’t.

“You’re gonna make a great dad one day.” A soft voice floats through the air. My head snaps up, the sounds of my friends slowly filtering back in. My eyes move around the room, and no one is looking at me. I close my eyes and breathe deep.

Don’t play with me, Millie. I plead. But nothing happens. Nothing but mind-numbing silence. Cam spits out his bottle, and I throw the towel over my shoulder, then place him over it, lightly patting his back until the biggest burp I’ve ever heard from him comes out.