Page 12 of Icy Pucking Play

"You can't protect everyone forever, Evan." Julia's voice softens. "At some point, you have to trust that not everyone is out to hurt us."

From the other room, I hear Natalia laugh at something Sophie's said. It's her real laugh—the one she doesn't use with strangers or people she's unsure about.

"Look," Julia continues, "I'm not saying you have to like it. But Ryland wants this. I want this for Ryland. And Sophie...well, just watch her with Natalia for five minutes and tell me she's anything like those reporters from before."

I risk another glance at the counter. Sophie's now fully invested in Natalia's card collection, asking questionsand seeming genuinely interested in my daughter's detailed explanation of why certain players are better than others.

"Fine," I find myself saying. "But I have conditions."

Julia's eyes light up. "Like what?"

"Like I get final approval on anything that involves Natalia. Like there are clear boundaries about what's off limits. Like…"

"Dad!" Natalia calls out. "Sophie says she used to play hockey too! Can she come to my game on Saturday?"

Sophie looks horrified. "Oh, I didn't mean to invite myself! I was just telling her about…"

"Please?" Natalia adds, going full force with those puppy eyes again. "She says she can help me with my butterfly technique!"

I look at my daughter's hopeful face. At Sophie's embarrassed one. At Julia's smugly expectant expression.

"We'll see," I say finally, which makes Natalia cheer because she knows that's dad-code for yes.

"Excellent!" Julia starts pulling plates from the cabinet. "Now, Sophie, tell me more about this mathematical approach to sports. I've been trying to get Natalia interested in math for ages..."

I watch as Sophie launches into an explanation, her hands moving animatedly as she speaks. And as my sister nods along, clearly impressed. And as my daughter hangs on every word like Sophie's sharing the secrets of the universe.

And I realize, with a sinking feeling, that I'm completely outnumbered.

What’s worse? A small part of me might be okay with that.

Chapter 5

Sophie

"Tell me again why you're watching golf tutorials at eleven p.m.?"

Hours after leaving Julia Daniels’ house, I look up from my laptop to find my roommate Cynthia standing in our kitchen doorway, wrapped in her fluffy pink robe and wearing an expression that suggests she's questioning all her life choices—especially the one about living with me.

Her curly red hair is piled up high on her head, and she's got her, "Sophie's about to do something stupid", face on, which, to be fair, she's had plenty of opportunities to perfect over the years.

"Because," I say, gesturing at my notebook filled with hastily scribbled terms like “bogey” and “mulligan”, "I may have done something stupid."

"More stupid than walking in on Evan Daniels while he was peeing in the bathroom?"

"You promised we'd never speak of that again."

"No, you promised. I made no such commitment." She slides into the chair across from me, stealing my cold coffee. "Besides, that was only yesterday. It hasn't even reached the statute of limitations for teasing yet."

"There's a statute of limitations on humiliation?"

"Sure. About the same length of time as it takes for you to do something even more embarrassing." She takes a sip, grimaces at the temperature, but drinks it anyway. "So, what'd you do this time?"

I groan, letting my head thunk against the table. "I kind of...invited myself to his golf outing tomorrow."

The coffee cup hits the table with a clunk. "I'm sorry, you what?"

"I panicked!" I sit up, running my hands through my hair. "He was leaving Julia's after dinner, and I followed him out to try to talk about the feature again, and he said he couldn't meet tomorrow because he had a golf thing, and my mouth just...moved without consulting my brain."

---