Page 47 of Top Shelf

“What’s a roommate?” she asks.

“It means she lives in the same house as Uncle Ty.”

“So is Daddy your roommate?” she asks after another thoughtful moment. I love watching the look on her face as her little brain tries to figure out every little thing. Lo laughs.

“Yes. Yes, he is,” she says. “And so are you and Mia. Actually, you’re more like squatters,” she mutters under her breath to me, and I laugh. Although, I don’t find it as funny because I’m basically a squatter too. God, I hope this job comes through. I offered Ty money for “rent” when he first told me to stay with him, and he practically ignored me. The second time I told him I could cover groceries or bills, he actually got a little mad.

“I’m a grown man, and I can handle my bills,” he said. “You’re my guest. Take a breather, Blackwell,” he had told me.

So that’s what I’ve been trying to do. And every day, I feel a little less guilty and a little more at peace with letting Ty take care of things around us. I don’t know if that’s bad or good.

After about a half hour, we pull into the rink parking lot. Just as we’re getting the girls out of the car, a big black SUV pulls up, parking in the spot right next to us.

“Aunt Dem!” Harper says, scurrying to her as she and Mr. Calway get out of the car. Demi scoops her up and covers her with kisses, and Mr. Calway hugs us and takes the baby from Lo’s arms.

“There are my beautiful girls,” he says, planting kisses on both of their cheeks over and over. “And hello to you too, ladies,” he says, nodding in our direction. Lo rolls her eyes.

“I swear, I’m chopped liver,” she says, locking the car.

“Y’all ready for tonight?” Demi asks, trying to sound chipper. I give her credit for the attempt.

Lo laughs.

“This is a tad bit different than watching him play in the NHL,” she says. “A little less nerve-wracking.”

Speak for yourself,I want to say.

As we’re walking in, Lo takes my hand.

“Hey,” she whispers, “I know your ex-husband is playing tonight. Just let me know if you need a break or anything, okay? I’m happy to step out with you.”

I smile.

“Thank you, Lo.”

When we get into the rink, I’m a little shocked at how jam-packed it is. I should have known that having a few retired NHL players would draw a crowd, but I guess I wasn’t expectingthis.One of the board members that I recognize from the dinner, MaryAnn, greets us at the front. She calls to Lo and tells the man taking tickets who we are. He ushers us through, and she hugs all of us, telling us how excited she is for the turnout and that we’re all here. She leads us down a hall past the line of people waiting to get in, and then through another door that leads to the side of the rink. She leads us up to a section of the stands right on the ice that’s taped off and removes a side of the tape for us to sit.

“Here y’all go,” she says. “Y’all just let us know if you need anything tonight, alright?”

We nod and smile, and within a few minutes, the lights start to go low, and music starts blasting. As the players come out onto the ice, the crowd starts to cheer. But all I see is Hayden, across the rink, staring at me with this look in his eye that pushes all the breath out of my lungs.

I don’t know whether to give him the satisfaction of looking away to save myself or to stand my ground and let him know that I’m not scared—even if I am.

But luckily, I don’t have to make that decision. Because from the end of the ice comes Tyson, skating fast and furious in our direction, stopping right in front of me.

“Hey, you,” he says, ignoring all the people cheering around him, “meet me at the bench.”

I raise an eyebrow, but I stand up and walk down the aisle to the players’ bench. He skates over to it, and one of the other players opens the gate and lets me in. To my surprise, Tyson reaches his glove around my waist and pulls me into him, laying a big, long kiss on me in front of the whole damn arena. And then I feel everything fade away—my anxiety, the noise, the uncertainty—and it’s just me and him. When we come apart, he gives me one of those panty-dropping winks. Then he gets back out on the ice and skates away.

I walk back out of the bench area and to my seat, where the rest of the Calways are sitting with pleasantly surprised expressions on their faces.

“Really dialing into the whole ‘fake’ thing, huh?” Demi asks, but I ignore her.

“Do roommates kiss?” Harper asks, and Lo and I burst into a fit of laughter.

“Sometimes, Nosey Rosey,” Lo says, patting her leg and handing the baby another teether snack. The lights shine again, and someone comes over the loudspeaker and starts introducing the teams. Levi recruited five other retired players to play tonight, three on each team. Some played for the D.C. Drifters, and some played for the Spokane Storm with him. It’s a good crowd, and all the other board members around us seem extremely pleased with the turnout.

Before the lights go up, someone introduces Levi, and he rolls out to center ice, taking the microphone.

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