Page 56 of Faking it with the Billionaire
With one hand gripping her hand, my other covers her eyes with the shirt.
“This smells like Daddy,” Bristol says as we waltz inside the men’s locker room. The guys are mostly geared up and ready to go back on the ice.
A few of them are lacing their skates and putting on the final touches to their gear. I’m not sure why he insisted that I cover her eyes until we get to the bathroom with urinals and the shower is running. One of the players has his back to us, and there’s not a lot hidden from view.
I usher her quickly into one of the bathroom stalls and slam the door behind her.
“Someone couldn’t wait for the restroom upstairs,” I say when the water shuts off for the shower, as if I’m trying to explain why I’m in the men’s locker room with a kid.
I stand with my back to the showers, doing my best to give Owen privacy. At least, that’s who it looked like from the quick glimpse I got while ushering Bristol inside.
“Where’s the boyfriend?” Owen asks, his footsteps thudding over the floor as he approaches.
I’m grateful, when I glance warily in his direction, that he’s wearing a towel around his waist. “I haven’t seen him,” I say. But I also wasn’t looking for Kyler. My focus has been on Bristol and getting her to the bathroom without getting an eyeful.
“He’s here,” Grayson says, coming up from behind. “And why the hell are you still wearing that damn jersey?”
“Another dollar in the swear jar!” Bristol chirps from behind the closed bathroom stall.
“I swear, kid,” he sighs and shakes his head. “Change shirts. Now,” he growls, his eyes pinning me, making my stomach flutter.
“Umm, okay.” I shuffle into an empty stall, not wanting any of his teammates to get an eyeful when I change. I’m quick, shucking the jersey in a matter of seconds. I pull on the white shirt and take a deep breath. Bristol was right; it does smell uniquely of Kyler.
It certainly beats the smell of the locker room, which isn’t ideal.
Stepping out from the stall, Kyler grabs the jersey from my hands. “Did you think wearing this was funny?” he asks, flipping it around for me to see the back and all the scribbles and crude caricature drawings in thick black permanent marker.
“Oh my gosh,” I gasp. “Bristol!” I can’t believe Bristol and Lia let me wear that jersey out.
Bristol flushes the toilet and steps out to wash her hands. “What? It was funny. There’s a penis on the back of the jersey!” Bristol giggles like it was the funniest joke in the world.
“I don’t know how you even know what that is.” Kyler shoots Bristol a pointed stare.
“You gave me a book about the birds and the bees, Dad. I’m six. I’m not a baby.”
“Right,” Kyler mutters under his breath. “Well, six-year-olds still need plenty of sleep.” He glances at the clock on the nearby wall. “Where’s Lia?”
“Upstairs, in line for the bathroom,” I say.
“She should probably take Bristol home and tuck her into bed.”
“Daddy, no!” Bristol wails, and I swear the entire stadium can hear her outburst. “I don’t want to go home. I want to watch you play. Can’t I stay for the whole game this time? Please?” She bats her eyes up at her father. They’re wide and soulful, and I swear he’s going to cave any second.
“No.”
I’m surprised she doesn’t have him wrapped around her little finger. “You can watch for a few more minutes, but before the next intermission, you ought to be on your way home.”
We shuffle out of the bathroom, and the team is on their way back out. I escort Bristol out of the locker room, and the security guard stands outside the door, waiting for us.
“Thank you,” I say.
We head back to our seats, and Lia is already waiting for us. “I take it you managed to use the bathroom?” she asks.
Bristol beams with excitement. “Daddy let us use his in the locker room.”
“Oh, is that so?” Lia asks with a laugh. She glances over at the new shirt I’m wearing. “I see you’ve changed.”
I glare at Lia. “Yes, thanks a lot for letting me wear that jersey out in public!”
