Page 14 of Shot Through the Heart

“I can’t wear that,” I hiss, taking a step away.

Eva raises a single brow. “Um, yes, you can. Pretty sure you know how to put a shirt on.”

A giggle escapes from behind me, and I whirl around to find Harper and Zoey.

“Mommy knows! Like this!” Harper raises her hands in the air like she’s done countless times before when getting dressed.

“Yeah, Stells. Like that.” Eva echoes and I shoot her a quick glare.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” I grumble, snatching the jersey from her.

“I have one?” Harper asks, pointing to the clothing in question. My eyes widen and I shake my head.

“Sorry, kiddo, the store was out of your size,” Eva stammers out.

Harper’s eyebrows knit together, clearly not pleased with that answer.

“They did, however, have something even better than a shirt for you.” Eva quickly recovers, turning toward the bag and pulling out two boxes. “We get to make our own stickers tonight!”

The girls squeal loudly, jumping up and down in excitement. Eva steps forward, lowering her voice so only I can hear while Harper and Zoey ooh and aah over the pictures on the packaging.

“Seriously, I wouldn’t look too deeply into the jersey. Garrett probably just thought it would be a nice touch to sell the story of you two.”

I sigh, glancing down at his name. She’s right. I know she is. It’s normal for people who aren’t just family and friends to wear jerseys supporting their loved ones. Plus, fans wear them all the time.

I’m just overthinking it. Thrown off by the memory of what it meant all those years ago versus now.

Now it’s for my job. Nothing more and nothing less.

I’ve got this.

Confidence is a lot easier to have when you’re only facing the mirror. Out in the real world though, it constantly falters from the pressure to maintain a perfect image.

Nerves rattle against every fiber of my being as I step out of the cab and onto the sidewalk in front of the address Greyson told me to meet him at. Clutching the strap of my small, black purse, my head tilts back to fully take in the towering building. Based on the furniture that decorates the balconies on the first few floors, it’s easy to figure out that these all must be apartments.

My breath wheezes past my lips.

Did Greyson really have me meet him at his place?

It’s no surprise that he would live somewhere as nice as this. I can tell just from looking into the lobby through the sliding glass doors that this place costs more in one month than what I pay in a year for rent. I’ve seen the wealth his family has accumulated alone. Add in his own earnings from his very successful hockey career, it makes sense that he would live somewhere like this.

Yet my chest still tightens at the luxury before me.

If I had cashed just one of the checks his mother had sent me after Harper was born, I might have been able to give her this. But it felt wrong to take that money. I didn’t work for it and if nothing else, the few times I considered accepting the money, it made me feel like I was accepting a payoff for my daughter.

Not wanting to dig into the guilt or jealousy that threaten to consume me, I close my eyes and focus on getting my heart rate and breathing under control. With one last breath, I take another few moments to check out the surrounding buildings as a distraction. Small businesses line the streets on both sides, different sidewalk signs with colorful chalk all begging for attention from anyone walking by. Right next door to the building that I am assuming Greyson lives in is the bar that Eva mentioned she used to work at before her promotion.

Maybe I have time to run in and down a shot…

I’ve barely finished the thought when the sound of laughter forces my attention back in front of me. Two guys emerge first. Even if I were to ignore the bags slung over their shoulders and the pressed suits they have on, I immediately know they belong to the Bobcats hockey team. Aside from their height and muscular frames giving them away, Garrett showed me their pictures more than once last week. Dean Hayes is one of the team’s goalies and Landon Sinclair is the team captain and a defenseman on Greyson’s line.

As the pair take the few steps down toward me, movement just over their shoulders catches my eyes and I know before I even look that it’shim.

Greyson keeps his head down as he exits the building, giving me time to look him over without him knowing. I want to hate him for looking so damn good. Unlike the two before him, he does not have on a three-piece suit. Instead, he wears a black, long-sleeved button-down that strains against his biceps. Black slacks are tailored to fit him perfectly, teasing the muscles of his thighs as he walks. My mind wanders for a second, imagining the difference in the boy I knew versus the man before me.

I shake my head, refusing to entertain that train of thought for another second.

Yanking my gaze away from him, I find Dean and Landon paused a few feet away, both with a knowing smirk aimed at me. There’s no doubt that I was caught checking Greyson out. Hopefully, that will only help sell this story more, though.

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