Page 63 of Chips & Checks
I press my hand to my face. “At a bar. We kinda hooked up…”
“Did you really?” Dad beams. “Like father, like son. Did I ever tell you about the time your mother and I—”
Mom snatches the phone from his hand. “Give me that right now, or youwillbe on the couch.”
I gag a little. I’m not even faking. “While you two wrestle over the phone, I’m just going to add bleach for my ears to the shopping list. That was TMI.”
Mom moves to the other side of the room, to a part of the basement I recognize. “Bowen, we have to get ahead of this. What steps have you two taken to protect this young lady?” Ah, there it is. Mom’s corporate side is coming out.
“For starters, we went to the front office.”
She nods. “That’s good. Of course, these organizations are notorious for turning a blind eye. What happened next?”
I rub the back of my neck. “Internal investigation. No word yet. And Chad whined to the team doctor, so Violet had to go work with him now.”
“I take it Chad is the problem?” Mom asks.
I nod.
Dad squeezes back into the camera frame. “Tell me more about Violet!”
Mom elbows him out of her space. “Let me think this over. This is complicated. Our first priority is Violet’s safety, but to handle this without risking her joborwaiting for this dickhead Chad to escalate things will take some planning. I’ll reach out soon, okay?”
In spite of everything, I smile. Chad the dickhead. She’s got that right. “Okay, Mom. Thank you.”
“I want more details about Violet!” Dad whines. “What are her hobbies? What do you like about her? Have you taken her on a date yet, Bowie?”
Mom blows me a kiss. “Bye, baby.” The phone cuts out, leaving my father’s numerous questions unanswered.
Chapter Fifteen
Violet
The guys are warming up before the big game. In theory, I’m hanging around in case anyone gets injured tonight. In practice? I may or may not be watching Bowen’s ass. And his shoulders. And his… everything. Fuck, I’m thirsty. Even when I drag my eyes away from him, my body remembers the sensation of being drawn against him the other night as he slid into me from behind—
In my attempt to stop ogling my situationship, I accidentally make eye contact with my dad. I die a little on the inside as he grins and waves at me. If crushing on my hot coworker wasn’t bad enough, I’m having aggressively sexy feelings in front of my dad. The resulting sensation is comparable to having a bucket of ice water dumped over my head.
It’s not just my dad, either. Noah is here. Coach Metcalfe is here. My little brother is within spitting distance. Pretty much every male friend I had growing up is within spitting distance. Heat climbs my neck, no doubt making me suspiciously red. Damn my Northern European heritage. I’ve never been able to hide when I’m embarrassed, and it’s a dead giveaway.
I give Dad a weak wave in return and try to find something other than Lenyx’s face or Bowen’s ass to stare at.
And, of fucking course, I end up making eye contact with Chad.
Chad lifts two fingers in a cheeky wave. I avert my eyes even as my stomach drops. Why can’t he just leave me alone? Since everywhere I look is a landmine, I decide it’s better just to keep my eyes on my shoes.
Only a few minutes pass before the guys shout, and I raise my head to see that Chad is lying splayed out on the ice.
“Ow,” he groans. “My head…”
I see right through his bullshit but telling him to fuck off and stop messing around isn’t worth my job. Ever since he texted me from my front door, I’ve been on edge and wary. It feels like the only time I can relax is when I’m with Bowen, but even he can’t protect me from Chad’s companyallthe time. At the very least, I’m surrounded by witnesses here. Having Eric around earlier during our private session helped, but I still had to touch Chad, who was visibly annoyed by Eric’s presence. What did he think was going to happen, anyway?
I’m not sure that I really want to know the answer.
I head over to Chad. Viktor is trying to help him up, but Chad waves him away with one hand and cradles his head with the other. I crouch down to examine him. There is, of course, nothing to see. Chad isfine.
“Looks like you should be good to go,” I tell him after a cursory examination. “I think you’re just rattled.”
“Thanks, Vi.” Chad’s use of my nickname bugs the hell out of me, and I’m so taken aback by it that I don’t realize what’s happening until he reaches up, cups my face, and slides his hand along my skin to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.
