AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It’s… nice. Unexpected and really nice.
He lifts his hands. “Your car should be back in the driveway in a couple of hours.”
It’s not an apology, but it’s as close as I expect I’ll get from him. I continue to study him, but it’s like the pieces don’t fit. One moment, he’s being overbearing, almost rude, and the next he does something like this? No one has ever given me this big of a gift before. I understand that it’s for his daughter’s benefit as well. But it’s my car he’s had fixed. Finally, I say, “I thought you didn’t like me.”
He blinks in surprise. “I never said I didn’t like you.”
“All that stuff about us not getting along? How I’m too cheerful and I make everything awkward?” Even repeating the words hurts my feelings. “That we can’t be friends?”
He pauses, his eyes wide. “That doesn’t mean I don’t like you.”
I stare at him. That makes no sense. But we’re at his workplace, and this conversation has gotten more personal than I expected. I only planned to come to show him he wouldn’t scare me away. This has become something different.
I take a couple of steps back. “Okay, then. I’ll just wait for my car. Back at the house.” Searching for something to lighten the mood, I motion to his yogurt. “We got you pineapple. Tabby said it’s your favorite.”
“Thank you. It is.”
“Right.” I swallow. “And thank you. For my car.”
“No problem.” He swipes his hand over his hair once more before he heads back to the locker room.
I watch him go. The more conversations I have with Duke York, the less I feel like I understand him at all.
Duke
Imanageashowerand then head for the room where the team dietician has set up lunch. From here on, I’ll be on dietary restrictions. During the season, when I’m not eating at the rink, I have a food service prepare meals for Tabby and me. But I don’t need to worry about that here. On training days, the team will feed us. Now, I fill up a plate—heavy on protein, fat, and complex fiber—and take a seat at an empty four-person table.
I put the yogurt June brought me next to my plate. I still can’t believe she brought me the treat despite being irritated about the car. As I shovel food into my face, I check my phone repeatedly. I don’t expect any texts from June, but I can’t be sure of her. Our conversations leave me off-kilter. I can’t seem to say the right things. My phone stays silent, though.
Our goalie, Huck Sokolov, sits down beside me, plopping his plate of food in front of him. He motions to the phone. “Did our captain’s text get left on read?”
I pick it up and slide it into my pocket. “Just making sure Tabby’s nanny doesn’t need anything else.”
“The nanny, huh?” He keeps his voice low so only the two of us can hear. He whistles under his breath. “Is that who she was? She’s cute.”
“Shut up, Huck.” I keep my eye on my food.
“Good comeback.” He chuckles. “But I saw you guys talking. No distractions, you say? Tell me more about that.”
I glance up and meet his amused gaze. “What does that mean?”
He rolls his eyes. “Please. We’ve been playing together too long for you to pull that on me.” His slight Russian accent comes out toward the end of the sentence, but as always, it’s so faint most people probably wouldn’t even notice it. That’s by design. Huck moved to the States to play in his early teens. He’s been trying to get rid of his accent since then.
“I’m serious. She’s taking care of my daughter.”
“So?”
“So… it would be really stupid to start something with someone who works for me. Especially someone who lives under the same roof as my daughter.” I run a hand over my beard. It’s reached the itchy phase. “Besides, you know me better than that. All my attention is on the season ahead.”
His face becomes serious. “Good. Because I need you at your best this year.” He motions around the room. “Most of these guys have years ahead of them to make a run for the Cup. But the two of us?” He moves his hand between us. “This might be the end for us. Let’s not take any chances.”
I glare at him, and he stares back. But we’ve both been around for a long time. Male posturing doesn’t intimidate either of us. What’s more is that I don’t have an excuse for him. I haven’t announced my retirement, but I’m sure a bunch of the guys suspect. Back pain and injuries have plagued me for the last few years. My time is running out. And Huck? His reaction time is slower. Not much slower, but at our performance level, every split second matters.
What’s more is he’s right—I have been distracted by June today. I want to think I’ve been worrying about Tabby, but that’s not it. I keep thinking about how she looked eating pizza last night, in her sweats and worn T-shirt with Rutgers stretched across it, her red hair in a haphazard heap on top of her head and every freckle in stark contrast on her face. That’s not where my attention should be. There’s no way I can harp on the guys about staying focused and avoiding distractions when I’m not doing the same.
So, I nod at Huck, and he nods back. In agreement, he slaps me on the shoulder and walks away without another word.
Huck is right, but so is June. Tabby needs someone to be there for her, someone who can help with her schoolwork, and June’s the right person for the job. It isn’t her fault I find everything about her too appealing. That’s my problem, and I won’t let my issues interfere with what Tabby needs.
