Page 133 of On the Power Play

She grinned. "And here I thought you'd be thrilled I'd taken an interest. Especially considering you still don't listen to lyrics."

Jack scoffed. "I told you, I listen when they're yours."

"Mmhmm. How did the announcement go?"

"Which one, Gaudreau's?"

"Both." She heard a clatter of dishes and imagined him in the kitchen. Maybe unloading the dishwasher after he'd taken a shower. Probably shirtless . . .

"The city is devastated to see him go. Especially under those circumstances. His DM's have been flooded."

"I can imagine. I'm guessing yours have been inundated, too?"

He hesitated, and Delia could tell he was trying to be modest. "Yeah, I think people are excited."

She scoffed. "Jack."

"What?"

"That's like saying you think people might attend the Eras tour."

He chuckled. "Yeah. The signing was a big deal."

"I know, I watched the livestream. Have you read through those comments? There were fourteen thousand of them. That's basically all of Alberta." That time he laughed louder, and tingles shot over her skin. "I'm so happy for you, Jack. I can't say it enough."

"Thanks, Dels."

Delia clutched at her heart as her whole body took a collective breath. She loved when he called her that. "So your first two games are at home?"

"Yep, first game is Friday."

"Two more days to rest up."

Jack laughed. "Try a thigh shredding practice first thing tomorrow morning. Then thirty-six hours to rest up."

"Same, same." Delia yawned. "I think I better get started on this bone broth. It's supposed to simmer overnight."

"I still can't believe you bought organic cow knuckle bones."

"Local organic grass-fed cow knuckle bones, thank you very much." She pulled her legs down from the couch and stood, knocking her ankle on the leg of the coffee table. She grimaced.

"You're a good daughter." There was a series of beeps, then the sound of a door closing. He'd been loading dishes not unloading. "I'll see you next week, then."

Delia nodded. No matter whether they won or lost these two games, they'd have to play one game in Toronto. She'd get to see him. The thought both thrilled and terrified her. "Yeah, and we'll talk before then."

"Mmhmm. Don't burn your house down."

Delia felt the big “L” land on her tongue, but that time she swallowed it. "Good night."

Jack hesitated. "'Night."

Delia groaned as she set her phone on the counter. Why was it so hard? Why did she have to walk around in the world as if she wasn't one of those pressurized cans that would shoot snakes the second her lid popped off. She couldn't tell Christian what she thought of the music they were supposedly producing together, and she couldn't own up to her feelings with Jack because—because why?

She picked her phone back up and swiped to her email, then opened up the statement IndieLake had sent over that morning. Four thousand dollars. She’d earned out, and she was getting four grand deposited into her account.

That number wasn’t impressive on its own, even though it felt like a veritable windfall compared to the nothing she’d been depositing for eight months. It was the breakdown above it that sent her heart into palpitations. She’d brought in sixty-three grand in a month. Even with all her expenses, had that money not been applied to her balance, she would’ve taken home forty-seven thousand dollars.

In a month.

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