Page 37 of The Roommate Remodel

He's actually good with them.

Brax glances at the back of the room, where a boy in a wheelchair sits apart from the rest, clutching a well-loved stuffed kitten.

“Hey there, buddy,” Brax says, setting the book aside and moving closer, kneeling down to his level.

“What’s your name?”

“Ethan,” the boy says.

“Well, Ethan, would you like to move closer so you can help me with the story?”

Ethan nods.

As Ms. Bennett clears a path toward the front, Brax pushes the wheelchair into place and then kneels by Ethan’s side. “Can I borrow your cat? He can play the part of Sir Whiskers.” Brax extends his hand in invitation, and the boy smiles, handing over the cat. “Now Kitty has a very important job.” Brax places the cat on his lap, a makeshift prop in their unfolding tale. “He needs to watch for sneaky dragons.”

“I know!” Ethan exclaims. “He could be a hockey-playing cat!”

The class giggles.

“Anything is possible in our story,” Brax replies. “Who knows? He might even win over the princess.” As he says it, his eyes flick to mine for a second before he turns back to the book.

A tiny hand clasps mine, yanking my gaze away from Brax.

I look down into a pair of wide eyes. “Yes, honey?”

“Is Mr. Brax a real hockey player?” the girl asks.

My gaze drifts to Brax. “What do you think?”

She taps her lips. “I think so. I bet the other hockey teams are scared of him.”

I nod. “He’s pretty brave on the ice.”

Brax pauses in the story, and the girl loudly announces, “Your girlfriend thinks you’re brave.”

The kids snicker.

“Does she, now?” Brax’s eyes dance.

“Yep, and my mom says women are never wrong!” the girl announces with glee.

Brax’s lips curve into an amused grin as he stares at me. “Is that true?”

With his gaze directly on me, my body tingles again and the heat creeps up my neck. If I thought watching theBrax Showon ice was bad, this is even worse.

Observing Brax on the ice is something I can handle, but seeing him interact with kids is making me melt like chocolate left in a warm pocket.

“Maybe you should just finish the book,” I suggest.

He gives me a quick flash of a grin.

For the rest of the class, Brax enchants the children with his story, answering more questions like a pro.

When he finally closes the book, the children break into applause. You’d never guess that this beast of a hockey player was nervous about facing a class of wiggly monsters.

He’s a hero in their eyes. And a rock star to me.

None of this bodes well for my heart.

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