Page 39 of Pucking Christmas Triplets Surprise

“No.” I growl, dropping the pan into the soapy water.

“No? Chris there is no, no. I already-”

“No, he cannot skate with Josie Richards.” I bark.

“They arepartners.” He says enunciating every word as he speaks, before sighing into the phone. “I was meaning to ask you about Miss Richards. Now there are rumors that frantically I put no weight into, but-”

“They’re true.” I say, welcoming the deafening silence that crowds the line.

“Excuse me?”

“The rumors are true, but we are not violating any rules. I am not Josie’s teacher.” I respond calmly. The same way I practiced with Caleb when I decided she would be mine.

“You are her coach.” He scoffs, before adding. “And fifteen years her senior.”

My body rolls with annoyance but I stuff it down. “In no official capacity am I Josie Richards coach, and my age gap with my girlfriend is none of your business.”

President Perkins’s sigh comes through the phone, heavy with frustration. “This behavior is unacceptable, Chris. It’s going to reflect badly on the university, and on you as a public figure. You understand that, right?”

I grip the edge of the sink, my knuckles turning white. “I understand perfectly,” I reply, my voice cold and clipped.

“There will be a Title IX investigation,” Perkins continues. “You’ll have a meeting with the committee as soon as they reconvene, but until then, you are no longer allowed on campus.”

I clench my jaw, anger simmering under the surface. “Fine,” I grind out. “But you will find another deal with Dylan Collins. He is not allowed within a hundred feet of Josie. I want an official Title IX restraining order on him, immediately.”

Perkins hesitates, sputtering. “Chris, be reasonable. You can’t just demand?—”

But before he can finish, I hang up. My nostrils flare as I inhale and the tension stays as I exhale heavily, trying to calm the storm inside me.Dylan will have to kill me to get anywhere near Josie. It won’t be long before the press knows. I can read it now, Golden Boy Robs Cradle, and I know I should care. I know I should be horrified by the blow back, but I can’t bring myself to care. I don’t care because I am happy. For the first fucking time I am just happy.I scrub a hand down my face, the soapy water from the sink splashing onto the floor.

“Uncle Chris!” Abby sings as she enters the kitchen and I quickly turn around, schooling my features to look relaxed.

“Abby,” I sing back to her in the same song-like pitch. She is wearing a full snow outfit, complete with boots, fur and earmuffs.

Abby pauses looking at me with a faux irritated expression. “Uncle Chris, why aren’t you dressed yet?”

“Dressed for what?” I shrug, pointing at her snowsuit. “Where are you going?”

“We,”Josie says entering the kitchen in a bodycon, baby pink snowsuit. “Are going to cut down a Christmas tree!”

I can’t help but grin at the sight of Josie in that ridiculous, yet somehow undeniably adorable, baby pink snowsuit. It hugs her curves in a way that makes my hands itch to throw her over my shoulder andtake her to our bedroom.

“Cut down a Christmas tree?” I repeat, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “Is that why my kitchen is suddenly full of snow bunnies?”

Josie sticks her tongue out at me, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t try to act like a grinch, Chris,” she teases. “We’re determined to get the perfect tree, and you’re coming with us.”

Abby nods, her hands on her hips. “Yes, Uncle Chris, we need your muscles. How else are we supposed to carry the tree?”

I fake a groan, pressing a hand to my chest. “My muscles, huh? Are you two taking advantage of my superior strength?”

Josie snickers, stepping closer and nudging me with her elbow. “Absolutely. But don’t worry, we’ll reward you with hot cocoa and cookies afterward. Maybe even let you put the star on top.”

I shake my head, warmth flooding through me at the sight of both of them grinning up at me. “Fine,” I say, surrendering. “But only because I don’t trust either of you to pick out a tree that doesn’t look like a sad twig from a cartoon.”

Josie laughs and Abby’s face lights up. “Hurry up, then!” Abby squeals, running towards the door. “The perfect tree waits for no one!”

The three of us trudged through the snowy field, the sound of laughter overshadowing the crunch of our boots through the snow as Abby says no to every tree I point out. Abby skips ahead of us, as Josie and I follow close behind, her gloved hand tucked into mine. Her cheeks are flush with the cold, and her breath mists between her lips, and despite the nervous way shebites the corner of her lip, her eyes sparkle as she shoots little glances at me, as if we were children in class knowing we both have a crush on each other.

“This one!” Abby calls out, her voice brimming with excitement. She stands beside a towering pine, her mitten-clad hands spread wide as she presents the tree to us. “It’s perfect! Big. Green. Smells like everything perfect in life. And it will look good in all our Christmas selfies!”

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