Page 3 of Ice Dance Hockey

“I’ve been trying to explain to your … friend here that there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m supposed to have the ice at this time. I’m sure of it,” I say.

“That isn’t true,” Lo says. “I’ll prove it.” He skates off to a bag of stuff he left by the music control board and is promptly back, shoving a phone in Jack’s face. Jack reads it over, nodding.

“It does say so, Rhett.” Jack sighs, glancing at the time. I know him well and so I know he’s delineating whether to give me the ice for today or attempt to reason with me. Of course, if he does, I’ll give him the ice in a heartbeat. Hell, I’m considering letting the whole thing go—for today—just for him. The baby fussing decides for him. “There’s only fifteen minutes left for this morning anyway. Let’s go, Lo. We’ll get this figured out by tomorrow.”

“That’s bullshit. I need to practice. If I don’t get enough practice, I could lose my scholarship.”

“You’re not losing your scholarship for losing fifteen minutes of practice. We’ll get something worked out for you.”

“But—”

“Move it, Logan. The baby’s fussin’.”

“I’m not moving for that fucking baby.”

“Don’t let your brother hear you talking like that. That’s a broken house rule.”

“We’re not in the fucking house.”

Jack looks to the sky. “Now, Logan. Or I’m calling him.”

Scowling, he glides off the ice, grabbing his bag on the way by, and I swear smoke’s coming off him. I don’t envy Jack’s car ride home. Jack sways the babe in his jacket back and forth. “Sorry about him. He’s a damn handful. More than this little guy.”

Jack kisses the babe’s head, and my stomach turns. He’s supposed to be holding our baby. There’s adoration in his eyes like I’ve never seen before. He loves that baby, at least he thinks he does, and it means I have to move faster than I’d planned rather than wait this out until we get to New York.

“Who is the lovely little creature?” I ask as if I don’t already know. Reading about something in a report only gets you so far. It’s helpful to ask questions and get a person’s direct take on any situation at hand.

“That’s Logan Wescott, Merc’s half-brother. Long story. He’s with us for the summer. Unless you want him?” he jokes.

No, thank you, is my first response.

But then it gives me an idea.

A terrible, awful, wonderful idea.

“Anyway, I’ll convince Merc to leave your ice time alone. I’m sure one hour’s plenty for his figure skating thing.”

“How do you plan on convincing Mercy of that?” He hates me. He’ll fight for those thirty minutes just to spite me.

Jack waggles his eyebrows and I wish I hadn’t asked. “Surely you recall my excellent powers of persuasion.”

The problem is that I do, all too well. It always involved his mouth on my dick. The very thought has my member thickening.

“Besides,” he continues. “I think Merc would like an excuse to cut his ice time. He’s worried about the guy. He’s already so thin and as if the practice on ice wasn’t enough, he works out a few hours a day at home, too. Huh. He’s crazy like you, actually.”

I nod and rub my too-cleft-y chin. “I’d appreciate that. You know, you could join me some mornings if you like. A few pointers for this season wouldn’t go amiss.” Once I have Jack alone in New York and away from Mercy and tiny, cute babies, it’ll be easy to take back my man, but because of that baby, I’ll need to get a head start during the off-season.

“Wow, would you? I’d love that. Um, I’m not coming here every morning at God’s hour, but a few times would be plenty. I’m gonna enjoy my off-season, Rhett, with beer and catching as much sleep as I can with this one here to interrupt it all the time.” He rubs his hand over the babe’s full head of hair.

How does an infant produce so much hair?

I shine my best smile upon him. “Awesome. I’ll text you.”

It’s the best interaction we’ve had in a while. Even our coffee date, while I enjoyed it, was filled with awkwardness.

Logan’s back, standing at the top of the stairs of the stands. “Dude, quit flirting with your ex. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Guess my name’s been used around their house. Good to know.

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