Page 35

I wake up extra early and incredibly uncomfortable after spending the night on the couch. I can’t believe Oren actually sleeps out here for days on end. First thing on the agenda is to fix our sleeping arrangement issue before tonight. Because I’m not sleeping on this terrible couch again, but I’m also not going to tempt fate and try to trust myself to be in the same bed as him. I pry myself off the stiff cushions, my mind already spinning with everything that needs to be done today, completely unsure where to even begin.

In reality, I really know absolutely nothing about Oren Samuels besides what I learned between the bar and the bedroom. And that knowledge is not going to come into play while he is here, healing. For one thing, he is here for an entirely different reason, and I need to get it in my brain that he is here for healing and comfort. And not that type of comfort! Get. It. Together. Brain. The most time we’ve spent together has been eight days straight. A few months is a hell of a lot longer than what I’m used to. Lily won’t mind, of that I'm sure. How I feel about it is squarely still on the fence. Everything about this situation we’ve found ourselves in is so new, and that requires figuring out how the hell this is going to work.

I try to stretch out the kinks in my back from last night's torture, but it's a lost cause. I give up and shuffle into Lily’s room. Luckily, she’s still sleeping. I listen to her gentle snores for a few minutes. It’s amazing to me how quickly she’s growing and changing daily. Her squishy, newborn face is long gone, and she has started to look more and more like a toddler every day, but she still hasn't lost that child-like innocence. I hope that Oren and I can protect that sense of peaceful innocence for her as long as possible. I soak up one last moment of quiet time with her before tiptoeing to my bedroom door.

Well, technically, Oren’s room, until I can figure out the alternative. Reaching out for the doorknob, I hesitate for a moment. Is this considered invading his personal space? I literally gave a lecture about how necessary boundaries are last night and here I am already—probably—breaking one I set up. But what if he needs something? If I knock first, then it's not an invasion, right?

Right. So I knock softly and wait a beat, getting nothing but silence on the other side. I’m sure that means it's safe to enter. Not stopping to think through my logic, I slowly open the door and peek inside. Oren’s still asleep, bare chest, rippling muscles, and a showcase of tattoos covering his torso and arms, sprawled out on the bed. His tan skin is barely covered by the tangled sheets draped loosely over his waist. The real show starts with what is under the sheet…nope, we stop there, brain. But my brain has a sex-induced mind of its own, inappropriate thoughts flooding my thoughts. NO. Absolutely not, Rachel! He’s literally fresh out of surgery, not even 24 hours out from getting out of the hospital. He’s just here to get help after his injury, nothing more. I will not look at that man like a delicious piece of man meat. End of story. I shake my head, ridding myself of the naughty thoughts of Oren that turn me the fuck on. But damn, it's hard to look away.

I force my head out of the gutter and slip quietly into the bathroom for a quick shower. The scalding water on my skin helps me focus from one task to the next, but even as I rush to get cleaned up, my thoughts drift back to Oren. At least this time, they’re less imaginative but much more worrisome. It's the beginning of day one, and my innermost thoughts have turned against me, and it certainly escalated quickly.

After all of my morning impurities are washed away, I throw my hair into a messy bun and pull on a pair of jeans, a comfy sweater, and sneakers. I can tell from the baby monitor that Lily’s up and stirring now. I quietly head to her room to get her ready for the day. I scoop her up, kissing her forehead, before holding her so that her feet are touching the ground. Maybe today will be the day she takes her first step. She’s been crawling everywhere and recently started using any stationary object to pull up and balance with. According to the books, it’s only a matter of time before she is running, literally. She protests the whole walking or standing thing by curling her legs into her chest. I pull her back into my chest and head to the kitchen. As I settle her into her high chair and start making her a quick breakfast, my mind isn’t on what I'm doing. It's on the very difficult discussion I’m about to have with my boss.

Heidi’s here right on time, while Lily pretends to eat breakfast, happily smushing fruit into her plate. I greet Heidi with a relieved smile.

“I’m sorry about the mess Lily’s making, and Oren’s still asleep,” I tell her, gathering up my bag. “There’s overnight oats and a protein shake in the fridge for him when he wakes up. He might need some help getting around, but don’t let him make you wait on him. If he asks you for anything other than making sure he doesn’t fall on his ass for breakfast, tell him it can wait until I get back.”

Heidi raises an eyebrow, chuckling and she doesn’t argue. “We’ll all be fine. Go, do what you need to.”

“Thanks,” I reply, throwing my bag on my shoulder and grabbing my keys. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

By the time the drive to work is over, my nerves are splintered. Elliot is the only person at work who knows about Oren being Lily’s dad, and I know he hasn’t told anyone. I took the easy route by not saying a damn thing to anyone and sat comfortably living my secret. Because, you know, baby steps. But now that Oren’s living with me post-op, I’ll need more time off to help him around the house, to appointments, and who knows what else. Once he is in physical therapy, we are looking at him having three or more appointments a week, and there is no promise that he’ll be able to take himself.

Asking my boss for what I’m about to requires more honesty than I’m used to sharing about my personal life. It won’t take long before my honesty runs all through the office and I’ve got to be the one to control the narrative. I head straight to Steve’s office, knocking on the door.

“Come in,” he calls, looking up from his computer when I sit down in the chair in front of his desk. “Rachel. I was surprised to hear from you last night and that you wanted to meet on your day off. What’s going on?”

I take a deep breath, gathering the courage to put it all out there. “I need to discuss something with you. Something….personal.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, gesturing for me to continue. “Alright, let’s hear it.”

“It’s about Lily’s father. Well, actually, it’s about Oren Samuels.” I say, my heart racing.

His eyes widen, shock coloring his face. “Wait—Oren Samuels? Defenseman for the Red Wolves, currently out for the rest of the season? That Samuels?”

I nod slightly, the confession already starting to lift off the heavy weight I've been feeling. “Yeah. Very few people know, but he is Lily’s father. After the injury, he wanted to do the surgery here and needed somewhere to recover and someone to help him out. He’s going to be staying with me until he is cleared by his surgeon.”

My boss leans back in his chair, a bemused smile on his face. “Well, I can honestly say, I did not have that on my bingo card this year. Or ever, for that matter. I know you like a challenge, Rachel, but it’ll take a saint to put up with the wildest playboy in the league. I didn’t think taming someone like him would ever be on your list.”

I let out a barking laugh because I’ll take humor over anything else right now. There is still more of this conversation to get through. “It’s not like that. I assure you. Well, it's complicated, but definitely, no taming involved.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Fair enough, so tell me what you need from me?”

“I need to take some more time off work,” I admit. “Maybe a couple of weeks. I’ve got to figure all of this out. Balancing Oren and Lily’s schedule will be complicated enough. Trying to find the time to do it all will be impossible. If I could take enough time to get a better idea of what his appointment schedule will look like, I’ll be able to pre-arrange help for him, and I can get back to work. But for that to happen, I’m going to need some time.”

He studies me for a moment, “Well, from how I see it, you’ve got plenty of paid leave time that you haven’t used yet. Why not take it? How about three months, if you want.”

My jaw actually drops. “Wait, really ?”

“Sure, I’ll just make St. Germain work more,” he says, grinning. “You worked your ass off, you’ve earned the time off and more. Take the time you need, figure things out, and come back when you’re ready.”

I sit there, stunned for a moment. “Thank you. Truly.”

He waves me off. “Just don’t go running off with Fabio and leaving here for good. We need you here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” I laugh, shaking my head.

As I leave his office, I feel a strange sense of relief. Three months. Three months is plenty of time. By the time I go back, Oren will be more mobile and closer to fully recovered. Lily will be a little older. This might make everything a little bit easier.

Being back on extended leave is similar to being back on maternity leave, but this time feels different. There’s no sense of guilt like there was last time I went back to work early. I don’t have this fear of not being able to provide for my family anymore. I know I can, I’m confident in that. This time, it feels right; not only do I need to do this, but I want to. I’m ready to spend more time with Lily, to help Oren heal, and to figure out what comes next. The most surprising part of all is that I can’t wait to tell Oren about it.

I unlock the front door, a smile on my face, but it disappears quickly when what I’m confronted with is nothing short of absolute chaos. Oren’s sitting on the floor with Lily, playing together. His bandaged leg straight out in front of him, crutches just out of reach, with a stuffed duck toy in his hands. The duck looks suspiciously like a dog toy, but that doesn’t keep Lily from giggling, scooting around, and trying to reach for it. The could-be-a-dog-toy duck is the least of my worries because the rest of the apartment is a madhouse.

Ford and Coach Wilder have connected a tablet to my TV and have turned it into some sort of whiteboard, with plays drawn out on the screen. The two of them are arguing back and forth over something so technically hockey that it even goes over my head. As I shut and avoid locking the door behind me, so that Lily and I can make a quick get away from the scene if need be, Nolan hops off the couch, rushing the screen. He starts pointing wildly over the lines of the play, while Ford vehemently disagrees, shaking his head aggressively.

Meanwhile, Elliot is carefully tucking Oren’s luggage and hockey equipment into the corner of the living room. It's arranged in a manner that can only be described as, ‘let’s hope she doesn’t notice’ and that certainly was a fail.

“Hey,” I say, my voice cutting through the madness. “You okay?” I ask Oren, who’s still sitting on the floor with Lily.

He glances up at me, a sheepish grin on his face. “We’re fine. Well, she’s fine. I’m ready for a nap, but the three ring circus over here won’t leave.”

“I would say they are trying to help you but I’m not entirely sure I can categorize any of this as helpful.” I say with a snicker.

“That would be the standard Red Wolves experience off the ice,” Oren jokes with a smirk.

“Stop! That can’t be true,” I kneel down next to him. “Is that a dog toy?” I ask, motioning to the duck that is now safely clasped between Lily’s hands.

Oren leans his head back, groaning before starting to chuckle. “Yeah, Ford brought it for Lily since he was meeting her for the first time. He was so excited, I didn’t have the heart to tell him.”

Damn, now I feel like a dick. So I just go with it. “What a fun new toy you have, silly goose,” I say to Lily, her eyes lighting up as she babbles something that sounds like ‘uck’. I turn back to Oren, “Yeah, Ford will have to learn that kids and dogs have different toys another day.”

“Yeah, that's a problem for another day,” he says, his eyes crinkling as he smiles, which just makes me smile.

I eye Oren with a raised eyebrow. “So, how exactly do you plan on getting off the floor?”

Oren shrugs, shifting slightly, clearly wincing as he does. “Hadn’t thought that far ahead. My ass went numb about 30 minutes ago. I've just accepted my fate.”

I roll my eyes, letting the laughter escape. "Seriously, Oren, you can’t just sit here forever."

He chuckles, though it’s strained. "I don’t know why not.”

I stand up, turning to the couch, where Ford and Nolan are still arguing and have yet to notice my presence. I clap my hands together loudly, grabbing their attention. "Hey, can you guys help with Oren for a second?" I can hear Oren groan from his spot on the floor.

"He’s stuck. Apparently, his ass has gone numb." I say, snickering as I gesture to him.

Ford and Nolan share a devious look. Nolan pulls his lips tight, trying to hold back the laughter. They compose themselves slightly, before walking over to Oren like two bouncers. Ford cracks his knuckles, "Alright, let’s get your sorry ass up."

Oren protests, “This doesn’t need to be a team exercise,” but Ford ignores him and hooks his arm under Oren’s right armpit while Nolan takes the left.

With a grunt, they hoist him up, his feet not even hitting the ground. Which is a feat because Oren is tall. But for every tall hockey player, there is always a taller one. Oren winces as he’s pulled upright.

" Criss , tabarnak! Calme-toi maintenant," he complains, his voice thick with sarcasm, “Could you make this more painful?"

"Probably, not our fault you’re built like a tank." Nolan says with a straight face before dropping him onto the couch.

Oren sinks into the cushions, letting out a loud exhale. "You guys are enjoying this way too much."

“Damn right, we are,” Ford replies with a grin.

I shake my head and grab Oren’s crutches from the corner, bringing them over to him. "Next time, don’t sit on the floor like that or leave these so far away, big guy."

Oren takes them, still grumbling under his breath. "Yeah, yeah, thanks."

I grab the ice pack for Oren before leaving him on the couch.

I sigh, my shoulders relaxing some now that the conversation with Steve is behind me and enough of Oren’s stuff is here for him to make do until I can go shopping. “Thanks for bringing over Oren’s stuff. This was really helpful.”

“I’ll take my thank you in the form of everyone talking me up to Dr. Lyons,” Ford says from where he’s leaning against the wall. “I’m going to marry that woman.”

I laugh out loud at his outrageous confidence. "Did you even get her number?"

Ford sighs dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck, looking genuinely distraught. "No! She wouldn’t give it to me. I just need a reason to see her again. That’s all it will take.”

Elliot snorts from across the room. "Yeah, sure, man. Maybe try not hitting on her while she’s at work. Unlike you, she’s a professional.”

“Oh yeah, because you are such a good example,” Ford says, giving Elliot a pointed look.

Elliot starts laughing, doubling over. Nolan, who’s been quietly observing all of us from the side, finally speaks up. “Maybe instead of being a little shit about it, just try talking to her.” His voice is calm, but there’s an interesting look in his eyes.

Ford lets out a huff. "I practically begged for her number, and she shut me down without even blinking."

I smirk, folding my arms. “Maybe she’s not interested in you because you play hockey.”

Elliot, who had just stopped chuckling from his first laughing fit, starts laughing again, and Ford shoots me a wounded look. "Low blow, Rachel. Low blow."

I glance at Nolan, who's still quietly observing the banter, interjecting very infrequently. It’s strange talking to him in a capacity other than coach and reporter. He’s always been like a steel trap, closed off to outsiders, but right now, he seems more relaxed. “Coach,” I say, giving him a small smile. “Thanks for…well, everything. I know Oren appreciates it.”

Nolan nods, his expression softening. “No thanks needed. I should be thanking you. You’ve done a good job taking care of Oren. Being here with you and Lily is doing him some good. This year’s been tough on him.”

"Yeah," I reply, slightly surprised by the kindness in his tone. "We’re all just doing what we can."

There’s a brief moment of silence before Nolan adds with a crooked smile, “And if Ford causes any trouble trying to get Maria’s attention, I’ll take care of him.”

Ford groans. “You guys suck. You won’t be laughing while you watch me marry Dr. Maria Lyons.”

There’s no missing the gleam of determination in Ford’s eyes. Nolan chuckles, giving him a shove as they get their stuff to leave, both of them needing to catch their flight. “Good luck with that, lover boy. You’ll have plenty of time on the plane to daydream.”

And just like that, it’s instantly quieter as the door shuts on their departure, leaving me, Lily, Oren, Elliot, and Heidi behind. I turn to Heidi and give her a grateful smile. “Thank you so much for your help today. I’m sorry about how insane it was with visitors, but you really helped me out.”

She waves me off with a smile. “It’s no problem at all. I’m happy to help.”

It doesn’t take long for Heidi to head home, and as she does, Elliot shifts awkwardly, glancing between me and Oren. “So…uh, is it cool if I hang out here until Ziggy gets off work?”

Oren and I exchange knowing glances, both of us trying not to laugh at him. “Elliot, you’re always welcome here,” I say.

He grins, looking relieved. “Thanks.” Elliot settles on the floor with Lily.

Oren’s leaning back against the couch, his head heavy, watching Elliot chase Lily as she crawls around the room. Eventually, with a tired sigh, he hobbles into my room for a nap, leaving me and Elliot alone. As soon as Oren’s gone, Elliot looks at me, his face more serious.

"How do you think he's really doing?" he asks quietly.

“He seems…withdrawn,” I admit. “But it’s hard to tell. I’m still learning the real him, not the version that he shows the world.”

Elliot nods, a serious expression on his face. “It’ll take him some time. Everything’s so fresh still.”

Just as the conversation starts to get heavy, Elliot’s phone buzzes. He glances at it and then smirks. “Ziggy’s on her way home. And she’s feeling frisky. Gotta go.”

“Gross,” I laugh, shaking my head, watching Elliot hightail it out the door.