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No, I tell myself. It's only a first offense. They never do anything that extreme for a first offense.
Luke blows out a breath, running his hand through his hair in a way that causes it to tussle around his face, in an almost boyish way. Even though he and my brother are 36, eight years older than me, he always looked younger. Especially right now, with the hint of vulnerability behind the frustration in his eyes.
I've never seen him like this. Probably because this isn't just about him. He’s thinking about his son, the same way I made the decision thinking about mine.
“Did they say they’re shutting down the team for good?” I ask, feeling my heart ache. Part of me wishes I'd never made the report in the first place.
He doesn't look at me, still staring thoughtfully into the air. At first, I don’t think he’s going to reply but then he shakes his head. “No. But they’re running an investigation and if it concludes that my violation is bad enough, then they just might."
“I don’t think they will,” I say. “It’s a first violation. You'll probably just be let off with a warning and may just have to pay a fine.”
“Hopefully. Because if the team gets shut down, it's going to affect Mikey more than anything."
I remember the sweet-faced, quiet little boy and feel my heart prick. "Does he love hockey that much?”
Luke meets my eyes and considers it for a little bit then shrugs. “He likes it about as much as he likes anything else. But it’s the one social activity he has and I’m afraid if he loses it - ”
Worry reflects in his eyes.
I walk around the counter. I don’t know what I mean to do, but I want to comfort him. It's such a strange thing because I’ve never thought in terms of comforting this man before but here we are.
I stop when I get close though. Hugging him seems out of the question so I awkwardly pat his back.
The minute our skin touches, I nearly gasp. It’s like a sizzle goes through the atmosphere, running through my body, reminding me that he’s shirtless and sweaty and distractingly sexy.
Luke gives me a weak smirk as though he can tell what I'm thinking.
“Mikey’s autistic,” he explains. "The therapist suggested that he join some kind of organized social activity because he needs to learn to interact with kids his age."
"Ah." I suspected from my brief observation of the boy, that he was autistic. I remember it was a few months ago when I took the cupcakes to his class for a reading event. Mikey was the very last one to come forward and take a cupcake, when he did, he hesitated off to the side.
“Do you want some?” I asked, gesturing to him. He uncomfortably glanced between somewhere in the center of my body and the cupcake box, seeming to not know if it was ok to take one. I handed him a cupcake with extra icing and smiled as he headed back to his desk, feeling something tug at my heartstrings towards the adorable little boy.
“It’s not easy for him to interact with people but I was hoping with the team, that he'd eventually make friends.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I didn’t mean for all of this to happen.”
Luke sighs and runs his hand through his hair again, muscles flexing in that effortlessly, alluring way.
“Is there a way you can retract the complaint?" he asks, and I pull myself back from the brink of lust.
“I don’t think so," I say. "But I can try. However, I don’t think I’m the only one who complained. All the parents on the team were pretty up in arms at the last game too.”
“Would it make it better if I bought them all gear too?”
The selfish part of me wants to say yes but I shake my head. “I don’t think so. We’d just be kicking the bucket down the road, and it would only be a matter of time before another team in the district complained. Besides, it wouldn't be the right thing to do." I pull my hand back from his shoulder because I find myself liking the feel of his naked skin way too much.Those memories are better left buried.
"Don’t stress. I’m sure it’s just going to be a warning.”
"I hope so," he says, and our gazes meet. They cling. And suddenly, it's not about Mikey and the team anymore.
Suddenly all that fills my memories is the fact that we kissed a few days ago.
I immediately retract my arm but Luke doesn't stop staring at me. Instead, he leans down until he’s close enough that his lips would be on mine if I didn’t back up at that exact second.
"Well played," he says. "For the report that is. But remember that payback’s a bitch.”
And with that, he finally leaves my store and the air rushes back into my lungs.
