Page 18

TOM

C rew picked out his book and left it in the living room, where we went to the bathroom to brush our teeth.

Calliope followed behind and listened as Crew showed off his new electric toothbrush, something we had tried to incentivize him to take an interest in dental health. It was one of the small wins.

Once we finished, we settled on the couch and sent a group FaceTime to Kelsey and Sam.

When Sam answered, he was still on the bus on the way to the stadium, but he could say good night.

I let Crew have time to say goodnight without interrupting.

A routine all of us were far too used to and would not end anytime soon.

After they wrapped up the call and hung up the phone, Crew patted the couch next to me, demanding that Kelsey sit with us. We read his story, Crew forcing us to alternate between characters and letting us know when we weren’t animated enough.

“Whew,” Calliope said as Crew walked ahead of us to his bedroom, “I’ve listened to duet audiobooks that were less professional than our performance.” We laughed hysterically by the end of the book, especially after Calliope finally mastered the whinny of a horse to Crew’s satisfaction.

“He’s a good director.”

“He knows what he wants,” she said.

Calliope watched while I tucked Crew into bed.

I was anxious to know if she’d thought more about what I had proposed at lunchtime.

The way she looked at me when I’d rushed out of my bedroom shirtless, fake dating wouldn’t be that much of a stretch, but it could be playing with fire.

I mean, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed the way her t-shirt stretched across her perfect tits or the shape of her nipples poking through it.

Crew had always been adaptable, but he’d taken to Calliope easily, and she was already following him around and answering his directions.

We tucked him in and said goodnight. He performed his typical delay tactics, asking for water, extra hugs, and every stuffed animal he owned before eventually giving up the fight.

“How about a song?” Calliope asked him.

“Des, pweas!”

Calliope sang Beautiful Boy by John Lennon.

Holy hell, her voice soothed like honey.

Crew’s eyes were starting to close, and as she ended the song, he’d given up the battle.

We both tiptoed out of the room, careful not to wake him.

I was used to doing this alone, but it had been nice to have someone else to help and even just to talk to.

Typically, I would look forward to a night of watching whatever Netflix show I had left off on and doomscrolling on my phone.

“Have you ever thought about music professionally?” I asked.

“Outside of open mic nights and my little TikTok account, I haven’t. My family is supportive, but my dad sees it as a hobby, not a livelihood. But then again, he also thought my mom’s writing was a hobby, and then her income tripled his.”

“It’s the best when you can make money doing something you love.” There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t show gratitude for my life. Every time I laced up my skates, I mentally thanked my mother for making the thousands of sacrifices that provided me with the opportunity to play hockey.

“Well, I had loved putting together that marketing proposal, put everything I had into it, and it was stolen by someone I trusted.”

“My mother always said when something like that happens, it’s a sign you weren’t on the right path,” I said, our eyes locking from across the kitchen island.

Was a nanny position with a hockey player who wanted her to fake date him the correct path?

Probably not, but it seemed like we were all committed to the arrangement for now.

“Oh, I guess I jumped that track and took the first train in the opposite direction. Only time will tell if that was the right choice,” she sighed heavily.

“What’s your gut telling you?”

“That little boy has my heart. And when I disappointed him by suggesting he wear a diaper? I never want to do that again.” She shook her head and looked down at where her hands clasped on the counter.

“Join the club. He doesn’t throw too many fits, but he can be a lot of work when he does. It’s why Kelsey is flying out with us for his first trip to Denver, so you don’t end up quitting on us if anything goes wrong.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t handle that on my own.”

“You couldn’t know that he had recently started to refuse diapers in favor of pull-ups or where I kept them. But this could be a good lesson for him on patience.”

She laughed, “I’m not wasting my breath waiting for a toddler to develop patience.”

The dishwasher was still running, so I rinsed and stacked the ice cream bowls in the sink. When I turned back around to face her, her gaze quickly darted up toward my face, a flush appearing across her freckled cheeks. Huh, interesting. I was almost positive I’d just caught her checking out my ass.

“Speaking of no patience, have you thought any more about my proposal this afternoon?” I asked.

Her eyes darted away quickly and then back, fully meeting my gaze. “What would it entail? I mean, if we’re dating and living together, there will be certain expectations.”

Yeah. I forgot about that end of the deal. It wouldn’t be hard to pretend that I was attracted to her. Shit, it would be harder to pretend I wasn’t attracted to her. “In public and around my teammates, we could hold hands; I can put my arm around you; it could be casual.”

“And what about a night out with couples?” she asked.

Her eyes dropped to my mouth, my brain, and my body finally on the same page, encouraging me to lean in and suck that plump bottom lip into my mouth.

Would she yield to me, or would she match my desire?

I shook away that urge. How the fuck did I expect to convince her to fake date me and then lean in for a very real kiss.

“Again, you’re the boss. I won’t do anything that you say is off-limits. No one will expect PDA.”

Her eyes flashed with something when I suggested she be the boss.

Was that a flash of interest? Desire? Lust?

Did she like to take control? Blood rushed to my groin with the image of her restraining me and doing whatever her heart desired.

Stop it, Tom; crossing the line mentally was just as bad as crossing the line physically.

“OK.”

“OK?” I asked.

“Yeah, I think we can make it work. But I’ll only do it if we can keep Monica out of it. I don’t want her risking her job,” she said. “You also mentioned that a couple of your teammates already know I’m your nanny, so I’m assuming we won’t need to pretend around them?”

“Correct. Bendik and Amari. Also known as Gumby and D-Bag.”

“What’s with the nicknames?” she asked.

“We all have one or two,” I answered.

“What’s yours?”

“Soupy or Thor.”

She burst out laughing. “Thor?”

“Yeah, because I put the hammer down.”

“Whelp, I guess we have Norse mythology and Greek mythology covered. And by hammer, does this mean I’ll be chatting with Crew about how he can’t go around hitting people while we’re watching your games?”

I swallowed hard, “I’d prefer if you told him that, yes.

” At the end of the season, Crew barely watched the game, and it was unlikely that he would catch a hit, but he was paying more attention now, and fist fights and penalties would call for a conversation after the game.

“Let him know it’s only allowed on the ice. ”

“MmHmm, don’t worry. I think we’ll figure out a way for you to take your punishment at home. I don’t want him to think you get away with that.”

Oh fuck, why did my mind go immediately to an image of her spanking me? And why did that turn me on? From the fire in her eyes, I don’t think her thoughts were that far from mine.

“Whelp, I should probably get going. I have an entire apartment to pack up, and it has me reassessing how badly I want to keep everything I own.”

“I know you heard Denver is cold all winter, but there are occasionally some springlike days in the dead of winter. So, unfortunately, you need to be prepared for all weather. And sunscreen, too; the sun is much stronger than in Boston.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” she said as she gathered her purse to leave. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah,” I swallowed hard. Was it normal to have such easy conversations with your son’s nanny? Our conversations flowed easily from one subject to the next without any hint of awkward silence.

Me to Amari and Bendik: Heads up, only you two know Calliope is the nanny. We’re telling everyone else we’re dating.

Amari: Oh boy, let the fireworks begin

Bendik: LOL

Me: Come on, it’s the only way I can get everyone’s hands off

Amari: And your hands on…

Me: It’s not like that.

Bendik: Yet. She’s hot, right? Otherwise, you wouldn’t give a shit.

Fuck.

Me: Yeah…

Amari: Oh man, I can’t fucking wait. This season is going to be so much fun.