Page 123 of Wicked Serve

I just have to find a way to help him see it before it’s too late.

Chapter 58

Nikolai

I turn the key in the lock, stepping into the house cautiously. It would be just my luck if Tangerine made a break for it while I’m the one opening the door. Isabelle’s car is in the driveway, but I don’t see Cooper’s truck.

I’m still not used to the keys, just like I’m not used to the A stitched onto my jersey. Alternate captain. Cooper and the guys presented me with the sweater after practice the other day, and I’m not ashamed to say that I got choked up. I’ve tried all season to put the loss of the captain position at UMass out of my mind, so being able to slip back into the role again in some form is a gift. Cooper acted like the whole team came up with the idea, but Ryder pulled me aside and told me that Cooper insisted. He wants me wearing it for our next game, at the end of spring break—a game that, if we win, will secure us Hockey East and an automatic trip to the playoffs.

I toe off my sneakers, putting them in the hall closet, and hang up my leather jacket.

“Isabelle?” I call. “Are you home?”

I hear a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sob.

She’s sitting at the kitchen island, sniffling as she feeds Tangerine a handful of cat treats. Her computer is open next to her elbow, with papers strewn around. My heart thuds with concern.

“Hey,” I say, pressing a kiss to her hair. “What’s the matter?”

She just grabs a couple more treats, holding them out to the cat. Tangerine gives me a baleful look before nibbling on one of them. I gently pull her hand away. The bag looks suspiciously empty, and I know Penny opened a fresh one last night.

“Trying to poison the cat?” I say lightly.

Her face crumples. “No. She likes them.”

“Yeah, but maybe not quite so— There we go,” I say, easing the bag away. Tangerine leaps off the island. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“I hate New York State.” She reaches for a napkin, blowing her nose. “And especially Nassau County.”

Of all the things I expected her to say, that wasn’t anywhere near the top of the list. My lips twitch, but I wipe the slight amusement away when she looks over. Her eyes are swollen, her face blotchy and pink.

“What happened?”

“I messed up the permits.” Her lip wobbles. “I accidentally attached some stupid assignment for that mythology class I’m taking—” She cuts herself off, lurching for her computer.

“Just fantastic,” she says as she peers at it. “That’s where the permits went. My professor is probably wondering why the hell I turned in a request for a liquor license.”

I inch her computer away. “You can email your professor and explain.”

“But I have to redo the permits.” Her breath catches. “They take forever, and we have a ton of them, and New York is literally so unhelpful—and James and Bex will need to pay all the application fees again.”

“Wasn’t it only a couple hundred bucks, altogether?”

“It’s their money. Money that they gave to me so I could handle it for them.”

“It’s a drop in the bucket for them. Don’t sweat the money.”

“It’s not even that,” she says, sliding off the stool and walking around the island. She leans against the refrigerator, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s everything. We’re on a tight timeline, and I can’t mess it up, but I’m already messing it up, so we’re behind schedule—”

“Isabelle,” I say, gently but firmly. I join her by the refrigerator, pulling her into a hug. “Take a breath. You haven’t messed anything up.”

“I messed up the permits!”

“And that’s totally fixable. Mom knows who to contact if you need to expedite them. Why don’t you call, and I’ll—”

“No. I told her I could handle it.”

“She’s helping you.”

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