Page 158 of Ice Dance Hockey

“He runs a dictatorship,” Bryce says, waddling in the door with more bags.

“I already have one kid dating an Elkington, it’s not happening, Bryce.”

Kid? Merc considers me one of his kids?

“Wait, what? Maverick?” I ask. Shit just got interesting.

Merc tugs me by my collar. “No, you first.”

I haven’t complied, so he guides me to one of the kitchen chairs by my neck. Our apartment in the city is small and quirky. It looks eerily like we walked onto the set of Friends, with the way the kitchen is directly to the left of the door, opening into the living room. Not surprising with how fanatic Jack and his family are about that show. I haven’t been to a Leslie family Friends trivia night, but he keeps saying they’re legendary.

I know how lucky I am to get to live here, even if it’s just the weekends. Jack’s mega hockey salary pays for this place. Over six thousand American per month. That’s even more to us Canadians. Still, sometimes I miss the space of Mercy’s five-bedroom heritage home.

“I shouldn’t have stayed at Rhett’s on a school night,” I say for him, unable to keep the tremble out of my voice. I have a terrible feeling that Rhett’s about to be ripped away from me.

Merc squints. “Did he hurt you again?”

“No. Nothing like that. Turns out this PR nightmare is a big deal to his dad.”

Merc huffs as Ari hands him a fussy Stanley. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Yeah, we all know about Maxwell’s influence. I also know Merc’s way of thinking—that he should keep me away from Rhett anyway so that I don’t become collateral. I don’t have a counterargument to that, especially when I’m worried about the same thing.

“I’ll be better about not blowing curfew,” I say, beating him to the punch. “But I’m staying with him tonight. I love him, by the way. He loves me, too.”

That could upset him, but Merc will appreciate the honesty. He grinds his teeth and forces his body to relax. Stanley leans back, staring at the lights on the ceiling. The wonder in his eyes … he’ll get to keep that forever with parents like Jack and Mercy.

“Think he remembers me? Can I hold him?”

“Course he does. It hasn’t been that long, Lo.”

Merc shoves him into my arms like he would have at home. I hold my breath waiting for the scream. Instead, he pats his little hand on my face, smiling. A tiny particle of light bursts somewhere in my chest. “Hey there, fuzzball.” His hair’s only gotten longer, and Jack has no plans on letting Merc cut what Jack calls his natural hockey coif.

“Alright, you’ve managed to talk yourself out of the long lecture I had planned for you, but next time it’s toothbrush city.”

Toothbrush therapy. I shudder.

“Tell me about the PR mess.”

Oh shit. “Um, you’re not gonna like this, but I swear I told Rhett to fuck off.”

“Spill.”

I sigh. “Rhett got carried away with the whole I love you thing.” My muscles tighten with cringe and angst. I’ve turned into a sappy fucker that even I can’t stand, but my heart’s aching. What if those I love yous were our last? “He wanted to fly to Vegas to seal the deal.”

“I’ll kill him. I’m going to fucking kill Elkington,” Merc says.

That shouldn’t make me smile, but I do. I have a protective older brother, and I love it. Not that I’ll thank him for it. “Chill the fuck out, Merc. I told him no. But that’s what the nosy little influencer person heard and ran with it.”

Mercy’s narrowed eyes are giving demon. He’s about to set something on fire with them. I bounce Stanley on a nervous knee.

“Oh, shit,” Bryce says.

Huh?

“First,” Merc says. “You’re not talking to me like that. I hope you have extra toothbrushes. If not, we’ll buy you a new one.”

I groan. Yeah, that was too far.

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