Page 63 of Sleepless Nights and Hockey Fights

He barks out a laugh. “Not at all. We’re having a good time, me and the boys.” The chatter of adolescent males bleeds through the phone’s mic.

“Thank you so much for trying to pick him up. Blake must have been away from his phone like I was.”

“Um, actually, Matthew’s second call wasmeafter he couldn’t reach you.”

“It was? He should have called his dad instead of bothering you. I’m sorry.” I wave to a guy in a red Mazda who lets me merge in front of him.

“Don’t be. I dig that he feels comfortable enough with me to reach out. Seriously.”

My breath catches at the sincerity in his tone. “Wow. I don’t...know what to say. Actually, that’s a lie. You’re too good to be true, Bobby Rhodes.”

“Flesh and blood, baby. Right here. Always.”

My heart rate skyrockets for some reason and my vision starts to blur as tears form. I have turned into such a crybaby recently. Damn perimenopause. I swipe them away because I’m currently driving a car through Tampa rush hour traffic and can’t afford to crash just because I’m all up in my feelings about a guy.

“I need to concentrate on driving before you make me cry.”

“Take your time. I’m having a little impromptu press conference with half the seventh grade. Drive safe.”

“I will.”

I do a little Lamaze breathing the rest of the way there to calm my shit, and by the time I pull into the school parking lot, I’ve returned to a semi-normal state. I laugh out loud when I see Bobby on the school steps surrounded by a dozen kids and half of their parents.

“Good god,” I mutter to myself as I park and get out. When I make my way over to the steps, Matty spots me before Bobby does and breaks through the circle to come over. Looks like my kid is anxious to get home. He’s probably starving.

But he surprises me by grabbing my arm and pulling me into the circle to Bobby’s side. “This is my mom. She’s Bobby’s girlfriend,” he announces to everyone, his man-boy chest puffing.

Oh god. What fresh hell is this?

I feel my skin turn to fire as Bobby reaches out to throw an arm around my shoulder and pull me into his side. “Hey, baby.”

All eyes are on us while Bobby’s gaze skims over my face as if inspecting every detail for signs of what I might be feeling. I’ll never understand people who crave being the center of attention. “Hey,” I manage as I will my skin to cool.

“Bobby, what is Roman LaFontaine like?” one of the dads asks.

“Roman?” Bobby’s eyes stay on me as he starts to answer, and I realize he wants me to signal I’m okay. This man is so attuned to me, it’s hard to believe sometimes. Only when I nod does he turn to the man. “He’s a little too full of himself, to be honest.” Everyone laughs. “Nah, I’m just kidding. He’s a legend, and he was a great mentor for the season we played together.”

We stand there while Bobby patiently answers questions and shakes hands with everyone. He even signs some kids’ backpacks before the crowd starts to disperse and our crew of three heads back to my car.

“That was so cool,” Matty gushes. “The kids whose parents were on time are gonna be so mad they missed it.”

Bobby and I both laugh and Matty shrugs, a huge smile spread across his cute face as he climbs in the Kia and closes the door with a quick, “Later, Bobby.”

I rest my back against the car and look up at my guy as he closes the distance between us and settles his hands on my hips. Why have I been questioning this? Bobby is the perfect boyfriend.Myperfect boyfriend. He’s wearing a half smile and a look in his eyes I recognize well by now. It’s a look of pure affection. It tells me there’s nobody else in the world he’d rather be standing across from right now.

So I pull my big girl pants up and trust my heart. “Bobby Rhodes, I love you.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Bobby

Good times don’t last, boy. You gotta work hard for what you want, then work even harder to keep it.

Those are the wise and depressing words of my father. The glass is neither half full nor half empty in Dale Rhodes’s world, it needs constant refilling. But I’ve never believed in the shit that man would spew, which is probably why I got my ass handed to me over and over again while growing up.

To be fair, I got an incredible work ethic from him that sealed the deal on my hockey career, but it also left some wounds even Mom hadn’t been able to heal. Right now, there’s a voice in my head, sounding suspiciously like my father, telling me that things are too good with me and Molly. That the other shoe is about to drop.

As for me, I refuse to believe that. Life is good. Molly, Matthew, and I have started a rhythm of sorts that suits us all. My career is on an upswing. Coach is off my ass, for the most part. My first house is going to close in just under two weeks. The Christmas countdown has begun, and I’ve never looked forwardto the holiday like this. Matthew’s first few hockey games have gone well, and with the exception of a few battles of will with Molly and Blake, he hasn’t gotten into any other fights at school.

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