Page 57 of Daddies on Ice
“Yes, Trent. It is.” My voice steadies, low but sharp. “That’s literally why Carl hired me. To protect the Thunderwolves. To keep fans from turning on us. To keep sponsors from pulling money. If I have to stand next to Jake and smile while he plays pretend, I’ll do it. Because I can.”
The silence stretches.
For a second, I think he’s going to slam the phone down in my ear. Instead, his voice drops, softer. “You’ve always been too damn selfless for your own good.”
“I’d call it practical.”
He exhales hard, frustration bleeding through the line. “Just…be careful, Tish. Please. Don’t let Jake drag you down with him.”
“I can handle Jake,” I say, even though I don’t believe that myself.
The call ends with a reluctant goodbye.
The hotel childcare smells faintly of crayons and disinfectants. The noise is a happy hum with the kids laughing, toys clattering, and the faint lull of cartoons on a wall-mounted TV.
Becky spots me first.
She bolts across the room, sparkly shoes flashing, her arms open wide. I scoop her up, her little body wiggling with excitement. “Pool?” she chirps.
“Pool,” I confirm, smiling despite the weight in my chest.
Krystal comes slower, a book clutched in her hands. She’s quieter, more reserved, but her smile when she reaches me is soft and sweet. “I’m ready,” she says simply.
The three of us head upstairs.
In my room, I help them into bathing suits, a pink glittery one-piece for Becky, and blue dolphins for Krystal. I pull on my own navy two-piece suit, tugging a cover-up over it.
The indoor pool glows under white lights with steam curling faintly off the heated water. Chlorine hangs thick in the air.
The girls squeal as they hurry to the shallow end, jumping in with splashes that echo against the tile.
I sink into a lounge chair, pulling the cover-up around me. The girls giggle and kick, water sparkling around them. My heart warms watching them, but my mind doesn’t stay in the pool.
It drifts back to the hotel room. To Ash’s voice, low and rough in my ear.Tell me to stop.The way I hadn’t said no. The way I’d whispered “don’t stop” instead.
Shame curls low in my stomach. I shouldn’t want him.
Not when Jake is already draped across my shoulders like a second shadow.
Not when Trent is furious and Carl is expecting me to play the part of perfect PR girlfriend.
But god, the memory of his mouth on mine refuses to leave.
I press my legs tighter together, shifting in the chair.
My cover-up feels too thin, my skin too hot. I focus on Becky’s splashing, on Krystal’s careful paddling, but the distraction barely holds.
The girls’ laughter echoes across the pool, splashes bouncing off the tiled walls.
I lean back in the lounge chair, cover-up pulled tight around me, and let my mind wander where I know it shouldn’t as I keep an eye on the girls.
Jake’s kiss lingers like a spark I can’t put out. It was calculated, practiced, meant to prove a point.
He knew exactly what he was doing, and god help me, it worked. Heat, confidence, arrogance all wrapped into one. With him, it’s about the show, about who’s watching. Even when no one is.
Ash is different. His kiss wasn’t a performance.
It was raw, messy, full of pent-up emotion.
