Page 59 of A Little Crush (The Little Things #6)

RORY

“ W oo-hoo!” I shout, cupping my hands around my mouth as Griffin slams one of the Tornados into the glass while one of his teammates swoops in to steal the puck.

“Go! Go! Go!” My mom’s cheer mingles with the rest of her friends’ from the suite. My dad has the box reserved for every home game, and it gets plenty of use. But this time? This time, it’s packed to the brim.

Scooting her glasses along the bridge of her nose, Dylan screams beside me, “Come on, Ollie! You got this! Get over there!”

“Hold me, hold me!” Parker, her youngest, chants.

Without tearing her focus from her husband on the ice, Dylan bends down and scoops up her child, balancing him on her hip before pointing to the flash of black and gold near the blue line while the rest of the kids run around the suite like they own it. “Say, ‘go, Daddy, go!” she tells him.

“Go, Daddy, go! Go, Daddy, go!” the little boy chants.

“Go, Lions, go,” I mumble under my breath.

My attention drags to Jaxon at the bench.

He’s yelling something to the team, his hands waving through the air and his hair a disheveled mess as if he’s been running his fingers through it for the past hour.

I don’t blame him. This game has definitely been a nail-biter.

The score is two to three—Lions down by one—with three minutes to go in the second period.

One of the Lions’ defenders slaps the puck across the blue line to Crowther, who chips the puck off the board before taking a brutal hit from an opponent.

My cringe only lasts two seconds until I’m distracted by Reeves deking left, then darting right around another player as he races for the puck and slaps it toward a waiting Everett, who passes it right back.

Around the net Reeves moves, his skates cutting through the ice as my focus slips back to Jaxon.

I can’t help it. Hell, I’ve been doing it the whole game.

To be fair, even before we started sleeping together, I was more fascinated by Jaxon’s reactions than anyone else’s on the ice.

He’s always been more interesting than the players.

More intense. More invested. And that was before.

When he actually played instead of coached.

Now that he’s the one making decisions and commanding his team, it’s even hotter.

Not sure how it’s possible, but it is. My lips part as he paces the bench below, drawing a large circle with his index finger through the air as if to say, wrap it up, wrap it up! Let’s go!

After a quick pass to Everett, Reeves twists around, racing around a defender to the opposite side of the net where Everett passes it back.

The black biscuit cuts across the glassy surface so fast it’s hard to keep an eye on it.

Hell, it’s like a bullet. Winding up, Reeves slaps it toward the corner of the net, and Dylan squeals in excitement.

I don’t look to see if he makes the shot, though.

I’m too distracted by Jaxon’s intensity as he watches from the sidelines.

Seriously. What is it about men commanding a group like this?

I fight the urge to fan myself while the red siren blares, and my family goes wild.

It must’ve gone in.

“Woo-hoo!” my mom calls. “That’s how the Lions do it!”

“PS, amazing assist,” Aunt Kate adds as Jaxon wrangles in the team, urging them back to the bench so he can go over the next play.

“What can I say? My husband’s hot,” Raine quips beside her. “And so is yours, Dylan. Reeves is killing it tonight.”

“I know, huh.” She shifts Parker to her opposite hip. “Daddy did so good.”

“Go, Daddy, go!”

With a grin, Dylan rests her forehead against her little boy’s and joins in on his chanting. “Go, Daddy, go. Go, Daddy, go!”

My mom bumps her shoulder with mine. “See how much fun this is?”

I peer up at her and smile. “I think you forget I travel with the team every other week.”

“Good point.” She loops her arm around my waist and tugs me into her side. “Still. I’ve missed this. Having you here. Watching you cheer on your team. You used to come to every game.”

She’s right, I did. We all did. Thanks to my dad owning the Lions, and Mav’s and Archer’s obsession with hockey, it was an almost daily event.

Whether it was peewee or professional, there was always a game, and I was always dragged along to watch.

I didn’t mind it, though. Actually, I loved it.

The cool air. The face paint. The cow bells. The brawls. The memories.

“I’ve missed it, too,” I tell her. “It’s been fun coming to more games this season.”

“It has,” she agrees. “Seems like Jaxon’s finally settling into his role, too. ”

“Mm-hmm.” I fight the urge to check him out for the thousandth time, afraid my mom will see right through me. Or maybe she already has. Is that why she’s bringing him up? Because she caught me staring like I used to when I was a kid and Jaxon was playing instead of coaching?

“Don’t you think, Ash?” my mom prods.

I peek up, finding Aunt Ashlyn on my mom’s opposite side.

I should be grateful she’s here to distract my mom from digging too much, but her presence only adds fuel to the fire.

Quietly dating someone’s son is one thing.

Quietly dating someone’s son when they’ve known you forever and can read you almost as easily as your own mom can? Yeah…that’s a bigger issue.

Act. Normal, I silently remind myself. Seriously, with how many times I’ve had to remind myself of those two simple words since I started sleeping with Jaxon, I might as well have them stamped on my forehead.

Aunt Ash nods. “Yeah, I think Jaxon’s finally finding a rhythm with the team.” She presses her hand to her heart. “That first game killed me, though.”

“Me, too,” my mom agrees. “It was rough.”

“Right?” Leaning around my mom, Aunt Ash asks, “What do you think, Rore?”

“M-me?” I point to my chest, feeling like a floundering baby duckling.

What do I think? Why would Aunt Ash care what I think?

Am I that obvious? Did she see me staring at her son like a lovesick puppy?

Or am I jumping to conclusions, and I’ve been hiding it like a champ?

And why is she still looking at me like this?

Shouldn’t she be watching the game or something?

“Yeah,” Aunt Ash says. “You’re around Jax more than any of us. How do you think he’s doing?”

How does she know I’m around Jax more than any of them? Oh, wait. Because it’s my job. Right .

Unsure what to say, I tuck my hair behind my ear and try to, you know, act normal. “I think he’s…good?”

She glances toward her son below us on the bench. “I hope so. He seems happier.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” my mom chimes in. “And I mean like, outside of his career. He’s finally smiling again.” She sighs. “He used to only smile when he was with Pops or after a win.”

“Mm-hmm,” Aunt Ash agrees. “Now, it’s a lot more often, which is great.”

“I wonder if he’s seeing someone?” my mom muses. “Have you noticed anything, Squeaks?”

“Seeing someone?” I squeak, earning the nickname all over again.

“Yeah.” My mom’s smile proves she’s thinking the same thing before she sobers a bit, explaining, “You know like, is he texting someone or having you stay late to watch Pops so he can go out? Anything like that?”

“N-no, I don’t think so.”

My mom waves me off. “You’re probably right. He must just be happier because he’s figuring out work and finding a new rhythm with Iris and Poppy.”

“That makes sense,” Aunt Ash says. “Speaking of work and Poppy, how’s my grandbaby, Rore?”

“She’s good,” I answer, grateful for the subject change. “Adorable as always.”

Her mouth lifts. “She is adorable, isn’t she? And when you earn one of her smiles, it makes you feel like a million bucks.”

“I’m jealous,” my mom interjects. “I’ve yet to earn one so far.”

“You’ll get there,” Aunt Ash teases before turning back to me. “How’s the nanny hunt going, anyway?”

“Nanny hunt?” I choke out.

“Yeah.” She frowns, clearly too distracted by our conversation to pay attention to the game unfolding beneath us. “I thought Jax said you were helping him find a long term replacement?”

“Oh. Uh, we actually decided I’m a pretty good fit for the time being, so.”

My mom tilts her head. “What?”

My brows crinkle as my eyes drift from one mom to the next. “What?”

“So, you’re staying?” Aunt Ash asks.

“I mean…yeah?” It comes out as a question, so I clear my throat and straighten my shoulders. “Yeah, I think I am.”

“In Lockwood Heights?” my mom pushes.

I nod, then shake my head, confused by her strange reaction. “Is that a problem?”

“Of course not,” she rushes out. “I’m just surprised, is all.” She yanks me into a hug before letting me go, giving me a look that makes me feel like I’ve grown a second head. “You’re really staying?”

I can’t decide if I’m offended or flattered by her reaction and utter disbelief. “For the time being, yeah.”

“Really?” she repeats.

“Unless you don’t want me to,” I quip.

She rolls her eyes. “You know I want you to. So much so I’m having a hard time believing it’s actually happening.

We’ve been wanting you home and in Lockwood Heights since you left.

Is that why you’ve been gone so much? You’ve been looking for places to stay or something?

” My mom turns to Aunt Ash, explaining, “Even when Rory’s in town, we barely see her.

She’s been staying at Maverick’s and Ophelia’s while they’re traveling, but…

” She pulls me into another hug. “Ah, I’m so excited.

Have you told your dad yet?” Her grip on me tightens.

“He’s going to be so happy! You have no idea. ”

“So is Jax, I’m sure,” Aunt Ash says. “You’re the only person he trusts Poppy with.”

Wiggling out of my mom’s hold, I ask, “What makes you say that?”

“Because he told us,” she answers. “Maybe that’s why he’s seemed so happy lately.

” Stealing me from my mom, she gives me a quick squeeze and lets me go.

“Being a parent and trusting someone with your child is hard. Especially when you’re divorced and there’s tension there, you know?

He doesn’t even have Poppy’s mom to rely on.

Not really. Add in Poppy’s affinity for only liking particular people, and he was a mess.

Trying to be a good father and do what’s best for his daughter, while also being the breadwinner and building and maintaining the career he wants.

” She shrugs. “Honestly, I think you coming back to Lockwood Heights has been the best thing for him. And the fact that you’re staying?

” Her voice fills with awe. “I don’t know.

It’s like you’re the missing puzzle piece in Jaxon’s life.

So, thank you. For looking out for my baby boy. ”

Aaaand why do I suddenly feel like crying?

With the sleeve of my oversized Lions jersey, I pat the corner of my eye while biting the inside of my cheek to keep the tears at bay, but it’s really hard.

Like, really hard. Because Jaxon has always felt like the missing puzzle piece in my life.

The idea of me being the same for him is…

it’s a lot. More than I’d ever hoped for.

And yeah, it’s not like Jaxon has officially told me this, but coming from his mom?

Someone who knows him better than most? It means a lot to me. I just hope she’s right.

“Rory’s always looked out for Jax,” my mom points out.

“Very true,” Aunt Ash agrees. “Same way he’s always looked out for you. Speaking of which.” She brightens. “How was your miniature golf date with Crowther a few weeks ago? Were you able to use what Jax showed you? ”

My eyes widen. “Oh. Uh, it didn’t end up happening after Eric got the news about his mom, but, uh,” I frown, “we decided we’re better off as friends, anyway, so…”

“You and Crowther?” Aunt Ash asks.

Ignoring the golfball lodged in my throat, I force myself to nod. “Mm-hmm.”

“Mmm, gotcha.” She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Probably for the best. I’m still rooting for you, though. You’re a catch. You’ll find someone awesome.”

“Mm-hmm,” I repeat as my fingers find the denim of my jeans.

One, two, three. Pause. One, two, three. Pause. One, two, three .

“Did you see that?” Raine shouts, her nose practically pressed to the glass. “They scored again!”

And just like that, everyone’s attention is back on the game, and I can finally breathe again.

For now, anyway.