Page 44 of Power Play

“How many days till that?”

“Today is Tuesday, so not today, not tomorrow, but the next day,” I respond.

“Yayyyyy! Thank you, daddy! Ms. Daniels told me that we are going to work on twirling! I want to twirl! Can we get a pretty skirt for me for ballet? Ms. Daniels has a pretty purple skirt that I love. Can I match her? Pleasssssse daddddy?” she begs, batting her eyelashes.

I’m going to have to talk to my sister about what she’s teaching Rory because her fluttering eyelashes and innocent look work way too well on me, I can’t imagine what Stella will teach her next, but I’m terrified.

“Okay, sweetie. Maybe you and grandma can go shopping for that this evening or tomorrow. Would you like that?”

“Yes, please, daddy.”

“Okay. Now let’s hurry up and eat. We need to get going here soon. Remember, grandma and grandpa are picking you up tonight.”

“Yup. Sleepover!” she exclaims.

Gazing at her smile, I can’t help but feel so lucky that I have such a special little girl. She’s a little firecracker but has the kindest heart. I’m so happy she gets to spend so much time with family; she adores them.

But now it seems she’s getting a bit attached to Ms. Daniels. I regret the way Saturday had gone. I wish that wasn’t how I found out that she is the teacher my daughter considers a hero—the one she’s been telling me about every morning over breakfast. I also wish I hadn’t found out that her brother is one of my captains.

Maybe then, I could have spent a little more time with her.

Shaking my head, I finish breakfast and quickly get us on the road to drop Rory off at daycare.

Here’s to hoping tonight’s game goes better than the last two.

* * *

It feels like I had just fallen asleep when my alarm blares on Wednesday morning. We had a game last night against Penn U, and unsurprisingly, we lost. Again.

That makes three games in a row that we’ve lost, so I’m heading into practice early today. Thankfully, Rory was with mom overnight, so I don’t have to rush around to get her to daycare on time today.

Practice is going to fucking suck.

The first thing we have to do is watch tapes and point out all the careless mistakes we’ve been making, there are so many little things that need to be cleaned up; we’re missing too many shot opportunities and we’re losing because of it. I need them to focus and actually see it instead of just relying on my word. They have been so sloppy with the puck that it’s a miracle they didn’t lose by more. After tapes, we’ll move to drills—lots of drills. We’ll focus on passing, puck control, shooting... all of it.

To say I’m frustrated about our losses is an understatement. None of them would’ve happened had we controlled the puck better, and all of this shit has happened since Saturday.

Saturday. The day I was the biggest dick alive to Sawyer, who is undoubtably like the coolest chick I’ve ever met. Fuck. I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s useless to even try, but I can’t bring myself to allow a relationship with her to happen. Rory’s already too close to Sawyer, I can’t risk Sawyer not taking it seriously.

There’s a difference between being thirty-seven and twenty-four. When I was twenty-four, I would have turned and run if a woman told me she had a kid. Why would I expect her to do anything different? She might stay for a bit, but I guarantee it would get old.

I also need to keep in mind who her brother is. He’s one of my goddamn players for fucks sake. Plus, he’s one of the captains. I can’t hook up with one of my players sisters. I can only imagine what would happen if he ever found out. On one hand, he might quit, which would hurt the team. He’s easily our lead scorer and honestly, he’s just damn good at what he does.

It would be a shame if he quit and hurt his possibilities in the NHL. I’ve been talking to a few teams, one team in particular about him.

And, I can’t imagine letting Bernard down. If I lost one of his best players, he’d kill me.

He trusts me to protect his team and his players, which means not fucking over one of their sisters. Even if he wasn’t a player and we were just friends, it wouldn’t matter. You. Don’t. Fuck. Your. Friends. Sister.

It’s a rule. You just don’t.

The second we get done watching the tapes, I have them geared up on the ice doing one drill after another.

An hour later, we’re finally about to begin a few small area games when Max walks up, looking a bit nervous.

There’s no way he knows.

Right?

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