Page 72 of Daddies on Ice

She’s my best friend’s sister, off-limits in every way that matters.

The hallway feels suffocating suddenly. The twinkling lights on the garland blur as I force myself to keep walking, each step heavier than the last.

My room key card trembles in my hand as I slide it into the lock. The green light blinks, and I push inside, letting the door slam behind me.

The room is decorated with the same holiday touches as the rest of the hotel.

A small Christmas tree in the corner, red and gold ribbons tied around the curtain rods, a bowl of peppermint candies on the nightstand. It all feels like a cruel joke.

Sleep doesn’t come easy. Every time I close my eyes, images flood my mind – Tish’s laugh as Jake whispered something in her ear at the club earlier, the way she looked up at him with those dark eyes, the graceful way she moved in that dress.

The rational part of my brain keeps reminding me it’s all an act, but the jealous, possessive part doesn’t care about logic.

The sheets tangle around my legs as I toss and turn. The digital clock on the nightstand mocks me with its slow progression through the night. Each minute crawls by like an hour.

By the time pale winter sunlight filters through the heavy curtains, exhaustion weighs on me like a lead blanket.

The Christmas tree lights in the corner have been blinking all night, casting dancing shadows on the walls that did nothing to help my restless mind.

Coffee. That’s what I need.

And maybe I need to check on Tish.

Make sure she’s okay.

The protective instinct that’s been part of me since the day Trent first brought her around kicks into overdrive.

It doesn’t matter that she’s a grown woman perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

It doesn’t matter that Jake would never hurt her.

The need to see her, to make sure she’s safe, overrides everything else.

The hotel hallway looks different in the morning light streaming through the windows at each end.

The Christmas decorations seem cheerier somehow, less ominous than they did in the dim lighting last night. My feet carry me to her door before I can second-guess myself.

Three soft knocks. That’s all it takes.

When the door opens, every protective instinct I possess roars to life. Tish stands there in an oversized sweater and leggings, her hair pulled back in a messy bun, but it’s her eyes that stop me cold.

They’re wide, almost startled, and there’s something there. Fear? Anxiety? Whatever it is, it sets every nerve on high alert.

“Ash?” Her voice comes out smaller than usual, and that’s all the confirmation I need that something’s wrong.

“What happened?” The words come out rougher than I intended, but the sight of her looking so shaken has my jaw clenched tight. “Did Jake—I swear to God, if he took advantage of you, I’ll kill him.”

“No!” She shakes her head quickly, stepping back to let me into the room. “It’s nothing like that. Jake was…he was perfect. A complete gentleman.”

The relief that floods through me is almost embarrassing in its intensity, but it’s quickly replaced by concern.

If it wasn’t Jake, then what has her looking like she’s seen a ghost?

“Then what’s wrong? And don’t tell me nothing, because I can see it written all over your face.”

She glances toward the adjoining door that connects the main room to the one where Becky’s sleeping. “I can’t talk about it now. Not with Becky so close. She might hear.”

The protective mama bear instinct kicks in, and I nod. “Okay. Let’s get her to the childcare, then we’ll talk.”