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He shrugs. “Never came up.”
“Making conversation is a good way to find out things like this,” I tease.
“Shut up,” he mutters, but I can hear he doesn’t mean it.
I love that we’ve moved into the insult phase of whatever this relationship is.
“Plus, you can forge a bond with your teammates.” I open the door. “In fact, it’s a good way to bond with pretty much anyone you want to know better.”
He gets out, then moves his seat so Scarlett can crawl out of the back. “I think she means her,” she says, plopping her feet onto the ground.
“I absolutely do not,” I say even though I absolutely do. I’ve been working for Gray for weeks now, and I’m pretty sure he’s never asked a single personal question about me.
“Just generally speaking. Asking people questions about themselves is a good way to show you’re interested in something other than . . .”
“Hockey?” Scarlett says.
I tap my nose and grin, aware that Gray is not a fan of my teasing. “Bingo, baby.”
“Eloise,” Scarlett says. “Why do you live here when you love the city so much?”
“Well, look at that, that’s a great question,” I continue to tease, leading her toward the front door. “It’s less expensive, for one thing. But also, because of things like this. I can’t imagine not being where my family is.”
Gray tenses, and Scarlett looks away.
“Oh. Oh no, oh Scarlett, I’m sorry,” I say, cringing at the thoughtless comment. “I didn’t mean—” Way to stick my foot in my mouth. Scarlett is dealing with her dad moving to a new city, and this is what I say?
“It’s okay,” Scarlett says, taking Gray’s hand. “Dad promised to fly me out here anytime I want to come.”
With his hand in hers, she hits him with it. He looks down, and taps her with her own hand right back.
I smile. I can’t help it. For having a dad who doesn’t seem to care a bit about how his stand-offishness makes other people feel, his little girl is grace beyond her years.
“And I’ll fly out there too, Red,” Gray says. “Whenever I can.”
He stole my nickname for her. Something about that makes me feel proud.
The front door opens before we can knock, and Dallas is standing there in joggers, a Comets’ hoodie and bare feet, his hair still damp.
“Hey guys,” he says, smiling. “Glad you could make it.”
“Thanks for inviting us,” I say.
Dallas looks at Scarlett, his smile holding. “You must be Scarlett.” He sticks a hand out in her direction.
“Dallas Burke.” She sizes him up with a raised brow. “You’re one of the top scorers in the league.”
He purses his lips, and puts his hand to his chin, Sherlock-style. “The top scorer, I think.”
She narrows her eyes. “Until Dad catches you.”
Dallas looks at Gray. “Wow, you brainwashed your own kid?”
Scarlett sticks her hand in Burke’s. “We should take a selfie later. The kids on my team won’t believe I met you if I don’t bring back proof.”
“Your team?” he asks. “Wait. She doesn’t . . .”
“Yeah. She plays hockey,” Gray practically growls.
