Page 186 of Breaking the Pucking Rules
Fuck. Does life get any better than that?
Yes, you asshole. She could be naked and falling asleep in your arms.
I shake my head as I pull the door open and step outside.
If I were a real asshole, I’d make this call in the room and wake him up, but while he might deserve it, I don’t want to deal with his tired, moody ass as we get on a plane and head toward our next location later.
“Daddy,” Sutton squeals the second the call connects.
“Hey, Peanut,” I say, resting my forearms on the railing and staring out across the city before me. “How was school yesterday?”
“Meh, that’s not important,” she says. “Let’s talk about yourgame. Daddy, it was incredible. You couldn’t have had a better start to the season.”
“It was a really great game.”
“I wish I was there,” she complains.
“I know. I wish you were there too. So, how was school? Everything okay with Adrian?”
“Ugh,” she complains, and I smirk as I picture her rolling her eyes. “He was…you know, his usual self.”
“But no fighting?”
“Nope. I held myself back from knocking some sense into him.”
“Well done,” I say, trying desperately not to laugh.
“Oh my gosh, you’ll never guess what,” she suddenly says.
“What?” I ask, having learned a long time ago that she doesn’t actually want me to guess. Not that I’d be able to even if I tried. Sutton is nothing but random with her exciting news.
“I got a new coach.”
“Oh yeah? Any good?”
“Yes. She’s amazing. I can’t wait to see what she can teach us.”
“That’s awesome, Peanut. Are you guys ready for your game on Sunday?”
“I hope so. But we lost against them last year, so the pressure is on.”
“You’ve got this. Gran is going to video call me so I can watch.”
“Yesss,” she squeals. “I hope I play as well as you did last night.”
“Nah, you’ll play better.”
We chat for a few more minutes before Mom calls out that she needs to leave for school.
“Call me tonight?” Sutton asks.
“Of course. Have a good day—try to stay out of trouble.”
It doesn’t escape my attention that that is a phrase I seem to be saying a lot recently.
“You too,” she giggles. “Send me pictures.”
“You got it.” It doesn’t matter where I am, or how similar thehotel rooms we stay in are, Sutton always wants photographs of everything so she can experience it with me. “Have a good day. I love you.”
