Page 68 of The Score

I chuckle. “Let me see one of your shoes.”

She quickly pulls off a neon-pink sneaker and holds it out for me.

After I check the size tag, I hand the shoe back and wander over to the large metal cabinet that holds the boys’ skates. Most of them are far too big for her, but after some rifling and digging around, I find a pair of Bauers on the bottom shelf that might fit her.

I hold up the scuffed black skates. “Try these on.”

Horror fills her big blue eyes. “But those are boy skates! I wantgirlskates.”

Another laugh tickles my throat. When her expression collapses, I sigh instead. “Okay. Don’t worry, kid. I’ll see what I can do, okay?” I tuck the evil boy Bauers back in the cabinet and firmly shut the door before she bursts into tears or something.

Coach Ellis chooses that moment to poke his head in the room. “Your mother’s here,” he tells Dakota.

I’m afraid he’ll notice her stricken face and have me arrested for upsetting a minor or something, but when I glance back at Dakota, she’s all smiles.

“Bye, Dean!” She hops off the crate and darts out the door.

Ellis grins at me. “Sweet kid, huh?”

I follow him out of the equipment room and we spend a couple minutes discussing what we want the boys to work on next practice. Once we wrap up, I leave the arena and check my phone on the way to my car. There’s a text from Garrett saying he’s crashing at Bristol House with Hannah tonight but that he left his Jeep at home, so he’ll need a ride back from practice tomorrow.

When I stride into our kitchen ten minutes later, I find a note from Tucker on the fridge, informing us he’s spending the night at a friend’s. His mysterious non-girlfriend, I suppose.

And then? The trifecta. Logan wanders in to grab a bottle of water and says he won’t be home till late.

“Where’re you going?” I ask as I rummage around in the fridge.

“Boston. Grace’s dad got us tickets for this orchestra thing. Neither of us really want to go, but she says he’ll be hurt if we don’t.”

I grin over my shoulder. “So you’re spending your evening listening to classical music?”

“Yup,” he says glumly. “But there’s an intermission, so Grace promised we could fool around in the coatroom during it.”

“Sounds like a good tradeoff.”

“I know, right?”

Logan leaves a couple minutes later, and my in-dire-need-of-sex libido springs to life at the thought of having the house to myself tonight. I don’t waste any time contacting Allie, who must be as horny as I am, because she answers right away.

Her: YES! 3 days of stress = coming over right after my workout. Gimme a couple hours, tho.

Me: Favor to ask.

Her: ?

Me: Bring Winston.

The request earns me a laughing emoji and a winky face, which could either mean “That’s hilarious butno” or “That’s hilarious and yes I will.” I hope for the latter.

I flipthrough aSports Illustratedat the kitchen counter while I scarf down my dinner, which consists of leftover chicken and broccoli. The team nutritionist emails us a weekly list of suggested meal plans, but Tucker, our resident chef, seems to think the word “suggested” means “mandatory” because he refuses to keep any junk food in the house. Since he’s the only one who remembers to go grocery shopping and the only one who actually enjoys cooking, this is the healthiest house on the fucking planet.

After dinner, I shower, shave, and do a little bit of manscaping, because I’m nice like that. Then Isettle at my desk to start my International Relations paper, which I’m still working on when Allie rings the doorbell. I save the file, close the laptop, and go downstairs to let her in.

She’s on the phone when I swing open the door. She mouths, “Sorry” and holds up one finger to indicate she’ll be a minute.

“Want dinner?” I murmur as she enters the front hall. “We’ve got leftovers.”

Allie covers the mouthpiece for a second. “Thanks, I already ate.” She lifts her hand. “No, I’m still here, Ira. And yes, I sent you the tape. I don’t get why you needed it this fast, if they’re not making any casting decisions until February.”

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