Page 120 of Sweet Thing

Word of my transgression had obviously reached the team. Of course they would all be on their captain’s side. I expected nothing less. I got a few curt nods before the air chilled with Theo’s arrival.

He headed right to his cubby without looking my way. I wasn’t going to avoid this, or him, and we needed to reconcile before the game. I was thankful Hatch was on IR, spending it in the press box, because I really did not want to have to tackle them both.

I walked over and leaned against the neighboring cubby. “Is Adeline okay?”

He looked straight ahead. “I don’t want to hear my daughter’s name out of your mouth.”

“I just need to know she’s okay.”

“She’smydaughter and I love her. Of course she’s okay.” He snapped his gaze to mine. “Or maybe you think she’s upset because she knows how much you used her?”

I could easily think that, but I couldn’t imagine Adeline sharing that opinion with her dad. “Where’s that coming from?”

“God, you’re something else.” And then he shoved me.

“Guys!” Boden yelled, his voice high-pitched with panic.

“I get that you’re pissed at me, T.”

“Oh, you do, do ya? You’ve been jerking my girl around for weeks, maybe months, I dunno! And if that wasn’t bad enough, as soon as you get a shot, you’re back with your baby mama.”

Shock coursed through me. “What? Where’d you hear that?”

“From the woman herself. She’s all over social media with pics of you holding your kid. And it was the same onesie Button was wearing yesterday—I recognize it because I bought it for her,you dick. So the minute you bail on my daughter, you head back to this other chick.”

Another shove. Last night, Vicki had taken photos of Mabel, some of them with me in the frame. Planting her flag now that her marriage had failed. I was too tired to police it.

“I’m not going to fight you.”

“No?” He pushed again, hard, forcing me to choose between standing my ground and stepping back. I chose retreat.

Dash Carter slid between us, as smooth as a figure skater.

“In case you ladies haven’t realized, the puck drops in less than forty minutes.”

Theo shook himself back to reality, the one where the captain had to be the bigger person. I hated that for him—I truly deserved to be smacked hard—but I also wanted to get our frustrations out on the opposing team instead of each other.

Usually, Theo would give a pre-game pep talk, but tonight, nada. For the first time ever, I wished Coach would put me on the same line as MacFarlane because I wasn’t sure Theo and I had what it took to overcome this hump. I prayed his professionalism would outweigh his need to avenge his daughter’s honor.

For most of the first period, we ignored our problem and worked our asses off. Every time Coach put us in, we hopped that wall, assumed the positions, and let muscle memory take over. Skating as partners for almost five years, our innate fluidity did a lot of heavy lifting. When I was out of position, Theo was there. When he got pinned back, I took over. One crucial difference, though: each time we returned to the bench, someone sat between us. The guys were taking turns to chaperone us.

Still scoreless, we had three minutes to go in the first period, and Coach was about to send the D-Man Dream Team back in.

“What’s going on with you two?”

Theo merely scowled, so I spoke for us both. “Nothing, Coach.”

Coach divided a glance between us, then landed on Cody Jacobs who was the current designated driver in the babysitting rotation. “Care to comment?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Coach.”

Coach shook his head in disgust. “Right, get in there. Let’s make something happen.”

This time when I cleared the wall, Theo shoulder-checked me. If that was his worst, I was getting off easy.

It was not his worst.

Thirty seconds into the shift, he was slashed by Ranally, the Hawks center, and I did what I always did when an opposing player high-sticked or slashed my partner and I was within range. I checked that fucker and slammed him against the boards.

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