Page 39 of Ice Dance Hockey

At least the ankle biters aren’t here yet. Ha. That was pretty epic when Theo bit Rhett’s ankle. Of course, the bastard didn’t even flinch. I got him to flinch. That reminds me. I pull out my new phone, the one Rhett bought me.

How’s the bite on your wrist healing, hockey gorilla?

I pocket my phone, not expecting an immediate response, but my pocket buzzes as I’m waltzing into the kitchen. It’s a picture of Rhett’s wrist. There’s a neat ring of my teeth marks. The swelling’s gone down and it’s scarred over, but it still looks fresh.

Apparently, scorpions sting.

It’s so dorky that it’s funny.

“What’cha laughing at, Lo?” Jack says. Huh, he’s the one standing over the stove this morning? He’s got their furry-headed child in one of his large arms and one of the kittens is attacking his bare foot, but he—like Rhett—is unaffected by a little pain. Humph. Hockey players.

“Rhett,” I reply, honestly. “I bit him before our date. I inquired about the collateral.”

“You leave a mark on him, Lo?” Jack says with all the innuendo in his eyes.

“Not what I was doing.”

“Your eggs are already on the table. You didn’t see Rhett during practice this morning?”

“Why would I?” I snap. I’m trying not to take that personally. The other day he was hell-bent on being my human cushion. Today he wasn’t even on the ice when I left, but I know he was at the club because I saw his McLaren when Jack picked me up. Jack had waited outside with the baby and then catapulted into a drill sergeant’s play-by-play of our day. He’s carefree and easygoing to the max until shit needs to get done. It’s an odd dichotomy, but I’m guessing he gets that from his captain dad I keep hearing so much about.

I appreciate order. It feels better than chaos.

“Sorry, you two have been friendly.”

“Where’s Merc?” I don’t want to think about this morning. I shouldn’t. I looked for Rhett to come out of the dressing room more than once, like an idiot.

And you texted him without thinking about it just now.Right. I’m not doing that anymore. Starting now.

“He had to pick up a few things for the party.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket again.

Happy birthday, beautiful scorpion. I wanted to tell you in person this morning, but my sister had an emergency. I was ten minutes late to practice.

“What’s Rhett saying now that’s making you smile like that?” Jack says.

“None of your business, dude.”

“Sayin’ shit like that’s only gonna leave it up to my imagination, and I have an overactive one.”

“He wished me a happy birthday. That’s all.” I leave out the rest. It’s bad enough that Jack wants us to be a real couple and Mercy’s worried I’m going to fall for Rhett and that it will be unrequited. Which it would be. He’s so obsessed with Jack that it’s disgusting. I don’t need Rhett to know I felt abandoned when he never showed. He didn’t promise to be there every day and he doesn’t need to.

But Rhett was feeling like a friend.

Thx. It’s whatever. We’re not friends, Rhett. One day of help was plenty.

I don’t want to expect him only to be let down. Sounds like he had something important today, but what about when the day comes that he simply doesn’t feel like it? I’ve had that happen too many times. Things start okay and then end horribly. I’m good-looking, so I attract people, but then I quickly repel them.

Thankfully, he doesn’t answer that, and I hope he takes a hint.

Jack’s stomach gurgles so loudly I can hear it from where I am. “Oh, shit,” he says, turning off the element. “Fucking Casey’s tacos.”

He went out with his friends last night. Mercy warned him not to eat too many of Casey’s tacos.

His eyes dart around the room as if he’s hoping Mercy will magically appear from nowhere. When that doesn’t happen, his gaze lands on me. “Lo, I’m so fucking sorry about this. Please,pleasewill you watch him for just a second?”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Can’t you just put him in his crib or something?” But he’s already shoving the puke machine into my arms. “I don’t know how to hold a baby, Jack.”

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