Page 44 of Lace 'em Up

My mom’s eyes widen.

“He’s always got a snarky comment, loves to degrade women, and doesn’t care about bringing the team together. In fact, he’s doing everything he can to destroy it.”

If she only knew.

It’s that…and so much fucking more.

I can barely stand to be on the ice with him, let alone to have to be in the locker room or on a plane with the asshole.

The shit he says about Chrissy, what he insinuated about Rory, how he talks about women and treats his teammates and?—

He’s scum.

And I get to play eighty-two fucking games with him.

Just the thought has my blood boiling again.

“So what?” my mom asks. “You took issue with something he said?”

My gaze flicks to Rory and then back to my mom, and I know she gets it with that one look. Gets that he said something about Rory and I lost my cool and…she might not appreciate me starting—and then finishing—a fight with my teammate, but she gets it.

Because she always taught me to stand up to bullies.

Because she knows that I would never stand for my woman to be bullied.

“Yeah,” I mutter. “I did take issue with it.”

My mom scoops up a forkful of pasta, brings it to her mouth then chews and swallows. “Well,” she says, tone casual—far too fucking casual when it’s paired with the gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. “I’m glad that you stood up for yourself.” A beat. “And everyone else.” Her mouth quirks. “Does he have a black eye as well?”

“No.”

“Oh,” she says and I don’t miss the disappointment in her tone.

My lips twitch. See? She can’t stand bullies. “He has two.”

Nodding approvingly, my mom pats me on the shoulder. “That’s my boy.”

Rory laughs softly but then does me another solid and turns the topic of conversation away from my black eye and my asshole teammate. “I’ve heard about your apple pie from no less than three Eagles players,” she says softly. “Is there any way I can tempt you into teaching me the recipe?”

My mom grins. “Will you trade it for your Everything cookie recipe?”

Rory nods. “Absolutely.”

My mom extends her hand over the island for Rory to shake. “It’s a deal.”

“It’s a deal,” Rory agrees.

I look between my mom and Rory, warmth pulsing in my belly and my heart as they seal their agreement with a handshake.

Sitting here like this, like we’re a real family…

Well, it feels normal.

Feels like the most normal thing I’ve ever done. As though I’ve done this same thing for years and years and years.

And I can pretend I’ve never done anything else.

That it’s always been Rory and me—just the two of us against the world and?—

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