Page 58 of Sleepless Nights and Hockey Fights

Clearly not sensing my inner freak out, Kaitlyn snickers into her chest before getting her shit together and spelling it out for me. “Okay, so every team has an enforcer and usually a pest. The enforcer’s job is to protect the star players by keeping the other team in line. It’s actually really important. When Visick threw that stab, he knew he was out of the ref’s sightline and he’d get away with it. Not only is Dan-O the team captain, he’s probably the second best player on the team.” She brings a hand to her chest. “After my baby daddy, of course.”

“Of course,” I echo robotically, trying to process this information about Bobby and his role.

“If we let something like a stab at Dan-O slide, then Detroit will start ramping things up, possibly seriously injuring one of our key players. So it’s Bobby’s job to get physical and put Visick back in his place. It’s an unwritten code of sorts.” She points to the bench. “You see number 44? That’s Fornier. He’s the pest. His job is to get under the other team’s skin and throw them off their game. Taunt them so they make stupid mistakes—something he’s really good at because that boy can be annoying as hell.”

“And this is all . . . allowed?”

“Well, fighting gets you a five-minute major.” She shrugs. “And if you take it too far, there can be other consequences. But Bobby never takes it too far.” I guess that’s something.

“A five-minute major?”

“Five minutes in the sin bin—the penalty box.” She gestures to the scoreboard where a penalty clock is counting down toward two minutes as the teams keep battling for the puck and racing around the rink. “Fun fact: that’s where that band Five for Fighting got its name.”

“Oh.” I’m still wrestling with everything she’s said.

Something tells me I’ve got an uncomfortable conversation ahead of me. Who knew a simple game could put me into an existential crisis?

“Hey, Mom,” Matty says, leaning into me and smiling. “Bobby stood up to a bully just like I did.”

Well, damn.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Bobby

My phone buzzes in my back pocket as I pull up to Molly’s house. We’re due at another house I want to see in thirty minutes. This one isn’t quite as lavish as the others I was looking at, but the pictures made it look gorgeous inside and it’s tucked away in a gated community that feels incredibly safe. I even saw a few basketball hoops in driveways and bikes left in the front yards when I looked it up on Google Earth.

I pull out my phone to see it’s Ashley again. Shit. I missed another session this morning. That makes three in just two weeks. Molly exits her house, looking like a million bucks in my favorite deep burgundy pencil skirt and silky black blouse. She’s literally trying to kill me with those stiletto heels. I thumb back a quick message, saying I’ll call Ashley later today. I’m out the door and kissing Molly before she makes it even halfway to my vehicle.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Rhodes,” she purrs.

My hands steal down her hips to her ass, wanting to take her right here on the driveway but knowing I can’t. Pretty sure thereare laws about public indecency, and I have about ten indecent things I want to do to Molly. Something about seeing her in the stands at my game last week, wearing my jersey and cheering for my team, sealed the deal for me. I just had to look left to see Matthew going crazy when the Storm Chasers scored, then see him hug his mother in his excitement...it all made something click in my head.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Sparks,” I murmur back, stealing another kiss before forcing myself to release her. I hold my hand out and she walks to my truck, letting me help her up into it and buckle her seatbelt. I may cop a feel of her breast in the process, but she doesn’t slap my hand away so I’m not going to apologize.

In the car on the way to the walk through, we chat about all the things that have happened with Matthew here all week. He went back to his dad’s last night. I would have come over right away since I miss holding her each night we’re apart, but we got back late from a quick away game in North Carolina.

I pull up to a gate and have to give my name to the guard out front of the neighborhood, which Molly assures me decreases crime on average by 25 percent. I mostly just watch her face as we pull up in front of the house. We start the tour and Molly’s head is on a swivel, an excitement in her tone I didn’t hear in the other houses.

“Bobby?” Molly turns around in the chef’s kitchen and puts her hand on my chest. “Are you even looking at the double ovens?”

“Yeah, they’re great.” I know because her face lit up when she saw them.

Molly’s eyes narrow. “You didn’t even look at them,” she challenges.

I shrug and slide my arm around her waist. “I don’t need to look at them to know they’re great. If you like them, that’s enough for me.”

Her head tilts. “Bobby, this isyourhome.Youhave to like it.”

I lean down and pluck a kiss from her red stained lips. “I’ll like anything. What I need to know is ifyoulike it so I can get you over here every chance I get.” I pull back and scan her face. “Do you like it?”

Molly’s face softens into a smile I know all too well. Her face does that every time I do something she likes and she’s about to let me do whatever I want. Fuck, I love that expression.

“Yes, I actually love this house. It’s beautiful, but not so over the top to be ostentatious, you know? And it’s safe. Not far from your job.”

I cut her off, not needing any more reasons other than she loves it. “Let’s make an offer.”

Her face lights up even more. “Really? This is the one?”

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