Page 37 of Your Pucking Mom

Wait.“Shit,” I muttered, a sinking feeling settling in my gut. She’d gone to her son’s apartment with my damn shirt on. I groaned inwardly, rubbing a hand over my beard as the child continued to summon me over.

“This can’t be happening,” I groaned.

“Come on, Cap,” Alex teased, unable to contain his amusement. “Go see what the kid wants.”

“Damien needs me,” I protested weakly, nodding toward Damien and his mother in the corner.

My eyes met Alex’s in a silent plea for help, but I knew I was on my own.

As if to make the situation worse, Alex pushed me toward Hart.

“What do you want?” I grunted. I was in no mood for pleasantries.

“Nova needs me to run some stuff for socials. Since you’re kind of my new mentor and you don’t have family here?—”

“I do.” I tilt my head back toward where Alex and Stassi played the perfect role of busy parents to Damien.Fuck.

Hart seemed oblivious to the implications, forging ahead with his request. “My mom isn’t exactly a pro skater, and she doesn’t know any of the other wives. Could you maybe give her a hand around the rink for a few laps?”

I blinked, trying to process what he was asking. “Babysit your mom?” I clarified.

“Well, it’s not babysitting because she’s an adult, but yeah, just for a bit. I promise it won’t take more than ten minutes,” Hart assured me.

“No.”

Hart pulled back, and his eyes went wide. “What…Why?” He sounded a tad offended. “My mom’s cool. She just needs a little guidance on the ice.”

Austin lowered his head, fiddling with his skates, as Stassi approached. “He means, of course he will, and hi, my name’s Stassi. I’m Alex’s wife.”

Austin’s head shot up, and he shook her hand. “Austin.”

“Are you ready for your interview?” the new social media intern called from the rink entrance. Austin glanced at me with uncertainty, and I looked over his shoulder at Auburn.

She couldn’t meet my gaze, and as she attempted to skate toward the rink entrance, she slipped and fell on her backside.

“Mom?” Austin moved to skate over to her, but I stopped him, gripping his arm.

“Stassi’s right. I’ll go help her. You go with the social media girl.”

Austin flashed me a grateful smile before heading off the rink.

I shot Stassi an annoyed look before making my way over to Auburn. Towering over her, I watched as she tried to pick herself up a few times before slipping.

I extended my hand in her direction. She looked up at me, then back down at the ice as if somehow willing herself up. “I don’t need your gigantic freaking hands to help me.”

A slow smile crept onto my lips, but I reminded myself I was in public and removed it from my face. “Alright.”

I leaned against the rink wall, resting my hands on the glass behind me to prop myself up. She glanced back at me, struggling to lift her knee off the wet ice as she tried to steady herself. “Go on, then,” I encouraged, a slow smile spreading. “Get up.”

“You can…” She lifted one hand up, managing to get her knee into a sitting position. “Fuck. Off.”

Boom. She face-planted right into the cold ice. “Agh,” I said before grabbing her waist and lifting her effortlessly to her feet.

“Are you okay?” I scanned her body for injury and saw two wet spots on her knees.

“Do I look fucking okay?” she spat, and I swiped away a few rogue curls that had fallen into her face.

She flinched. Fucking flinched. The movement stole the breath from my lungs. How did we get here in twenty-four hours?

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