Page 108 of A Major Puck Up

“Dude, dump Jill,” Brooks says.

Those three words are like a bucket of cold water. Aiden clams up, and the rest of us shift in our seats a little awkwardly.

“Switch seats with me,” Daniel says to Camden.

“Oh my god, are you serious right now?” I glare at my brother. “There’s nothing to tell. No need to grill me. I’m nannying, and now I get to travel with you to your games. Don’t drive me nuts, or I’ll hang with Camden tonight instead of you.”

My brother glowers at the man beside me. “Wipe that damn smile off your face. You aren’t spending any time with my sister alone.”

I laugh as I lean back in my seat and pull out my phone to put it on airplane mode. “I’m done with you.” I slip an earbud into the ear closest to Daniel and turn to Camden. “So, tell me about yourself.”

Camden stretches out beside me, his arm bumping mine on the armrest, and tells me all about his life as a professional hockey player. It takes real talent to keep from full-on beaming at the daggers my brother is launching at us the entire time. We’re about forty minutes into the hour-long flight to New York, and I’m laughing hard at yet another of Camden’s stories, when Vivi lets out a wail. An instant later, a red-faced Gavin appears next to my seat, bouncing an equally red-faced Vivi in his arms.

“Is she o?—”

“Could you come help me, please?” Gavin growls, his eyes dark. “And you—” He glowers at Camden, and when he notices how close our arms are positioned on the armrest, his expression goes murderous. “I told you to stay away from my nanny.”

“Hey,” I hiss, quickly unbuckling and reaching for a now screaming Vivi. I rub circles on her back and storm to the front of the plane.

It seems we’ve taken another seven thousand steps back.

The hall is silent as Gavin waves the key card in front of the sensor. After a solid hour, Vivi finally settled down and fell asleep. When we checked in, Gavin told the front desk to move us to a room where we wouldn’t disturb his players or other guests in case the crying started up again, so we’re at the end of what looks like a deserted floor. I’m just thinking it’s a pretty great setup when we step inside and realize this is a one-bedroom suite with a single king-size bed.

“I’ll go lay her down,” I offer, glancing at the couch and hoping like hell it pulls out.

Gavin’s jaw ticks as he eyes it too.

The blinds in the bedroom are already closed, and the light at the door casts enough of a glow to allow me to see what I’m doing as I settle Vivi on the bed and stack pillows around her to keep her there for a moment while I set up the playpen. Poor thing wore herself out with all the crying.

Out in the main room, I find Gavin pulling out the couch. “Here, let me help.” I tiptoe to the closet to find the bedding, and when I return, the bed is out and the cushions are thrown beside it haphazardly.

“I’ve got it.” He reaches for the bundle of bedding in my arms.

I pull them to my chest and turn away. “I’ll do it. It’s my bed.”

“You’re not sleeping on the pull-out.”

I grip the bedding tighter and take a step back. “Well, you certainly aren’t.”

Eyes downcast, he heaves out a breath, his chest rising and falling. “We’re not sharing a bed.”

I can’t hold back the aggravated sound that works its way from my throat. “Oh my god, Gavin. I’m not trying to share a fucking bed. It’s my job to watch Vivi. You need sleep so you’re ready for the game. I’ll set up the playpen by the couch and sleep out here with her. Shut the door and put on headphones or something.”

“No.”

“Do you realize how unreasonable you’re being? You’ve made it abundantly clear that I’m the help. So it makes sense that I belong on the couch.”

Gavin works his jaw, and then he deflates. “You’re not?—”

My phone rings, and he snaps his mouth shut.

Dammit. I silently groan, frustrated that, for the first time, he seemed like he might say something worth hearing, but my damn phone had to interrupt the moment. I quickly pull it out of my pocket and silence it.

When I do, Gavin is already across the room, standing in front of the bedroom door.

“Take it outside,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to wake the baby.” With that, he steps into the room and shuts the door behind him.

I squeeze the sheets in my fists and hold in another silent scream. This man and his mood swings are going to be the fucking death of me.

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