Page 123 of Over the Moon

thirty

. . .

Eloise

I spentthe night at Clark’s for the first time last night, and I didn’t feel anxious about it. Spending time with Emerson and Cutler helped me to see things more clearly.

I was starting to think that coming forward about our relationship might be the best thing to do. Sneaking around wasn’t really in my nature.

And keeping this from my father made me feel physically ill.

I just needed to figure out the best way to do it.

I was sitting at my desk, the door open, when Randall poked his head in. “Hey, can you oversee the workout this morning? Something came up.”

He was unusually pleasant, which was a nice surprise.

“Of course. I’d be happy to. I don’t have anyone on my schedule until this afternoon.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” he said, and I had to make a conscious effort not to let my jaw fall open in surprise before he turned and walked away.

No snarky comments.

No reminders about staying in my lane or growing a thicker skin.

I made my way to the gym, just as all the guys arrived. I led them through the first set of strength-training exercises as they belted out the lyrics to “Mr. Brightside” by The Killers as it piped through the speakers.

“Is it just me, or is it much more pleasant having Doc here instead of the grump?” Weston said, and laughter erupted around the gym.

Clark’s gaze found mine, and he smiled, and my stomach fluttered in response.

This man affected me in ways I couldn’t explain.

“I couldn’t have said it better,” Lefty said, tossing me a wink before clapping Clark on the shoulder as they switched machines with one another.

“Stay focused on the workout, please,” I said, trying to appear serious when I was fighting back a laugh.

“Doc is all business!” Wizz said. “I dig it.”

They took a break to drink some water between sets, and Weston was the first to start the questions. “What was Coach like as a dad? Was he a hardass?”

“Nope. He was kind of a softy with me, aside from expecting me to work hard at school.”

“Are you serious?” Adams bellowed. “That dude scares the shit out of me when I’m on the ice. He shows no mercy.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “He’s supposed to be that way when he’s at work. But at home, he was just—a really good dad.”

Lefty scratched at his scruffy beard. “Damn. I’m going to stop talking shit behind his back. I never pictured him at home. The man haunts my dreams when he’s shooting me those daggers to get my head in the game.”

More laughter.

“Well, anyone who can scare the shit out of Lefty should win coach of the year. It’s his job to get your ass moving,” Clark said as he motioned toward the machines. “We need to get one moreset in before we get out on the ice. Beefcake is expecting a good showing, so let’s get this done.”

I sat there with my notebook, writing down the workout they completed to upload into the portal later for Randall.

Once they finished their last set, they went to grab some lunch that Talia had brought in for them before they headed out to the ice.

Clark and I were in the back of the group, and after they turned one way, he pulled me down a little hallway in the opposite direction and pushed me up against the wall and kissed me. When he pulled back, he stroked the hair away from my face.

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