Page 17 of Blue Lines and Lullabies

“Pre-game nap,” I chuckle, and Gabe smiles in understanding.

“Yep. Grant has a whole series of stupid superstitions he does throughout a game day, but for me, it’s always been about the nap, and about the socks I wear.”

“I bet you put them on in a specific order, though,” I tease him, and he laughs.

“I do.”

I shake my head in mock disappointment. “You damn hockey boys and your superstitions.”

“I’d take offense, but you’re not wrong. Actually, the guys teased me because they said I needed a new tradition after I got a hat trick a few weeks ago —” Gabe abruptly stops talking.

“You got a hat trick? That’s amazing!” I gush. A hat trick is when one player scores three goals in the same game. “So what do they want you to do now?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he says hurriedly. “You saved all the numbers I sent you, right?”

The quick change of topic is like whiplash, but I don’t ask what is going on. “Yes, I have every single number for the team, all the coaches, the front office at the practice arena and the main arena, and a bunch of other employees. Who is Elsie, by the way? She texted me today and told me she was on standby if I needed you.”

“Physical therapist for the team, and the coach’s girlfriend,” Gabe answers as he stands up. “I’m going to give baby girl a bath, then get her settled in for the night. Are you okay with taking the night shift tonight?”

“Of course,” I answer, again put off by his quick response and tone. I cock my head to the side, studying him, and I realize he won’t make eye contact with me. “What happened a couple weeks ago that made you get a hat trick, Gabe?”

He sighs, closes his eyes, and then says, “I met you.”

Stunned, I can’t find words to respond as I watch him walk upstairs.

“Cass,” I hear whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Cassie.”

“Huh?”

“Cassie, Mackenzie is awake, and I need to leave for practice.”

I bolt upright as I realize Gabe is actually talking to me. In my dream, he was very much not doing any talking, but his lips were definitely moving. Rubbing my eyes, I stare up at Gabe. Hovering above me, he’s in workout clothes and holding a to-go cup of coffee. When my eyes meet his, I see they are bloodshot and weary. “Did you not get any sleep last night?”

“No.”

“Nervous about today?” I ask.

“No. Mackenzie was up all night.” His answer is blunt, and do I hear a slight accusatory tone?

“Gabe! I said I’d take her!” I whisper-yell as I throw the comforter off his guest bed and stand up.

“That’swhy. That’s why you didn’t take her,” Gabe growls, his tone accusatory as he points at my body. I look down and realize I’m in a tank top and a thong. “I came in here to hand her off, and you were sprawled half under the blankets, and your ass was on display, and I couldn’t wake you up at that point, now could I?”

“You absolutely could have woken me up because that’s what you’re paying me to do! This is how I sleep, Gabe, so you better get used to it!”

“You can put fucking pants on to sleep, god dammit,” he growls.

“You walk around half-naked all the time, and you’re gonna tell me how to dress when I’m sleeping? That’s rich,” I retort.

“I do not walk around half-naked!”

“Yeah, you totally do. And don’t you dare tell me it’s for skin-to-skin. That was cool the first night, but now it’s just you hoping I’ll stare.” I stare. I try not to, but I can’t help it. He’s like a car crash. I want to look away, but I can’t.

“Clearly, you do, or you wouldn’t notice I’m walking around half-naked.” Gabe’s breathing has picked up, his chest expanding quicker and quicker as he stands over me.

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