Page 26

26

gio

I ’ve been traveling for the past two games, both back-to-back WINS.

The guys are hyped, Coach is finally not up my asshole every five minutes, and our backup goalie stopped crying in the locker room after practice. Life is good.

Or it should be.

I’m crammed into the middle seat of the plane—because apparently, being hockey players doesn’t warrant first-class treatment unless you’re the Coach—which is fine because I’m preoccupied anyway.

I can’t stop thinking about Austin.

The teammate next to me has been snoring like a chainsaw, and the guy on the other side keeps elbowing me for clues because he’s working on a Wordle but all I can focus on is her last text.

Austin: Just need some time to myself.

Time to herself?

We only see one another a few times a week!

Tops !

In fact, I would kill to see her everyday.

I’m totally hard for her, twenty-three hours of the day.

Don’t know if it’s something I did or she’s just being stubborn, but she’s been dodging my FaceTime calls. Not to mention, her messages have been lacking those cute little emojis she sneaks into her messages.

Something is definitely up .

The plane lands, and I practically sprint to baggage claim, which is pointless because my bag is always the last one off the carousel. I stand watching my teammates grab their duffles and leave, while I’m stuck waiting for my poor, beat-up bag to tumble out like a drunk toddler.

By the time I get to my car, it’s late, and I’m starving.

I contemplate hitting up a drive-thru but decide against it. My nutritionist would strangle me if I showed up to practice tomorrow smelling like a bacon cheeseburger and large fries, so instead, I scrounge around my center console and unearth a protein bar.

Gnaw on it as if it’s the best meal I’ve had all week.

I debate going home.

I should.

I’m beat.

Sore.

Tired.

Glance at the clock in my truck: ten after ten PM.

Just need some time to myself .

Her message plays on a loop in my brain and before I can think better of it, I’m hanging a right instead of turning onto my street. Within a few short minutes I’m pulling into the parking garage in Austin's complex. Search for a spot—one where my truck will fit—and cut the engine.

Dropping by unannounced has never been my thing, but I’m feeling neglected and for all that talk she’s done about good communication, hers sucks right now .

Something is wrong and I want to know what that something is.

The elevator dings as I step inside, and I hit the button for her floor. The ride up feels longer than it should, and I spend the entire time rehearing in my head what I’ll say. Hey, passing by… thought I’d check in… totally not because I’m spiraling and imagining every worst-case scenario possible.

Are you breaking up with me?

By the time the doors slide open, my palms are sweating.

I wipe them on my jeans and make my way down the hall, stopping in front of her door.

I hesitate a moment, wondering if this is a terrible idea. But then I hear her voice in my head: I love the way you communicate. More men should be like you…

Yeah, well—that works both ways, doesn’t it?

I knock twice and step back.

Stuff my hands in my pockets.

Bounce on the balls of my feet, anxious.

The dog barks; it’s a sharp bark erupting on the other side of the door—one of those small-dog yaps that sounds more like an alarm system than a greeting.

There’s a pause, followed by shuffling on the other side of the door. Her hair’s up in a messy bun, and she’s clutching Gio, the dog, in one arm like he’s her tiny bodyguard.

His ridiculous fur mohawk bristles, and he stares me down with his wide, slightly unhinged eyes.

“Gio?” Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

I shift on my feet, suddenly overcome with the urge to wrap her in a hug and squish her.

“I was on my way home from the airport and I’m hungry, so…” I say, holding up my protein bar wrapper. “I thought I’d stop by.”

“You stopped by because you’re hungry?”

“No. I stopped by because I’m worried about you,” I say, stepping inside the apartment. It’s warm, cozy, and the last time I was here we played strip Connect Four and I gave her a lap dance .

Good times I’d love to repeat.

“So?” I say, tossing the protein bar wrapper into the trash. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or are we going to play another round of ‘Austin avoids my questions while your dog waits for an opportunity to strike.’”

Austin laughs. “He’s not going to bite you.”

I’m not so sure about that.

I follow her into the living room, taking a seat on the couch.

She joins me—and instead of sitting on the other side like I expect her to—she lays, her head resting in my lap.

My hands go to her hair.

Her hair is soft under my fingers, and I start running them through it without thinking. It’s a habit by now—something I do when she’s stressed, even if she pretends she doesn’t need it. Gio trots over, leaps up onto the armrest, beady eyes locking on me.

Fine.

Whatever.

Austin sighs, and for a second, it feels like the whole world slows down.

She doesn’t say anything, just stares up at me with those wide, tired eyes. It’s enough to make me forget how much my left shoulder still aches from getting slammed into the boards last night and how hungry I am.

I ignore the growling in my stomach.

“How do you feel?” she asks, resting her head against the back of the couch.

“Glad we won. Glad to be back.” Her long lashes flutter at me. “Couple of highlight saves. No big deal.”

Her lips twitch. “No big deal? That’s the most humble thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Don’t get used to it,” I say with a shrug. “I’m just saying, it’s not every day you stonewall their best shooter in a breakaway with five seconds left on the clock. ”

“Ah, there it is,” she teases, smirking. “The humility was fun while it lasted.”

“Come on, admit it—you’re impressed.”

She rolls her eyes, but her smirk softens into a smile. “I’m always impressed. I’d be more impressed if you weren’t still scared of my dog.”

“That’s different,” I argue, pointing at Gio, who yaps in protest. “He wants to bite me, I can see it in his eyes.”

The dog’s ears twitch.

She shakes her head, a small, tired smile on her face.

I brush a few loose strands out of her face, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“What about you? Did the students survive today, Professor?”

“Barely.” She sighs, rubbing her temples. “I had to explain to two different students why Wikipedia isn’t a credible source of information. One of them argued that if it’s on the internet, it’s basically fact.”

“It’s not?” I tease.

Her lips twitch, but she narrows her eyes at me. “Don’t you start. I get enough of that from my students.”

I hold up my hands in surrender, grinning. “Hey, all I’m saying is— if Wikipedia says I’m the best goalie in the league, would you argue?”

She rolls her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitches like she’s trying not to smile. “You’re ridiculous. Wikipedia would probably say you’re a unicorn if the right someone edited the page.”

“I’d take that as a compliment.”

For a moment, the conversation pauses, the room settling into an easy quiet. Gio, the dog, gets up. Stretches. Without missing a beat, he crawls onto her lap and curls into a skinny ball, glaring at me like he’s daring me to even think about petting him.

She strokes his body absentmindedly, her gaze drifting to the window. Her fingers move in slow, comforting circles, and I can tell she’s lost in her thoughts.

“Thanks for coming over,” she says softly.

“Want to order food and watch a movie?” I ask, keeping my tone light, worried she’s going to reject my offer.

Austin sighs, leaning back into the couch. “I was watching one of those housewife shows before you showed up.”

I nod. No surprise there—she loves reality TV, especially the messy kind that involves arguments over champagne and passive-aggressive party invites.

“Sounds good to me.”

Her head tilts, her lips quirking into a small smile. “You hate those shows.”

“I don’t hate them,” I say. “I just don’t understand how they’re always fighting. But hey—if you’re into it, I’m into it.”

The smile grows, and for a second, I feel like I’ve won the Stanley Cup.

“That was easy.” She’s happy so I’m happy.

“True,” I admit, leaning back and crossing my arms. “I seriously couldn’t care less what we watch. I just want to be here with you.”

She looks at me then, really looks at me, and something shifts in her expression. The tenderness in her eyes is enough to make my chest tighten, and for a brief moment, I forget about the game, the travel, and even the dog’s continued silent loathing.

“Okay,” she says, her voice quiet but steady. “Let’s order food.”

And just like that, the world feels a little bit lighter.

“What are you in the mood for?” I ask, pulling out my phone to scroll through the delivery apps. “Pizza? Thai? Or do we just go all in and order burgers with fries and milkshakes?”

Silently, I apologize to my nutritionist for pre-smelling like bacon burger, tapping away at my screen while Austin continues to stroke Gio’s naked body .

“Burgers sound good,” she says. “Can we get sweet potato fries?”

“On it,” I reply, pulling up the menu for our favorite burger place.

“Oh. And extra pickles,” she says, giving me a playful nudge with her foot. “And lots of secret sauce packets.”

“Got it.”

After placing the order, I set the phone down on the coffee table and lean back into the couch. “Food’s on the way.” I sigh, looking forward to our late night snack. “Have you seen Nova lately?”

Austin’s face lights up at the mention of my sister. “I ran into her at the coffee shop yesterday. She was bitching about the date she was on Tuesday night.”

“Sounds about right,” I say, grinning.

Austin’s eyes widen. “Did she tell you he spent half the night talking about his ‘crypto empire.’ I thought she was going to lose it.”

“She told me the same thing. I have no idea why she’s going to dinner with these dudes.” I shake my head. “Apparently, he called her ‘babe’ within five minutes of sitting down. Who does that?”

“It’s called Love Bombing and it’s a thing,” Austin informs me, fingers plucking at the tufts on Gio’s head.

I frown, shaking my head. “So basically, it’s manipulation with extra steps?”

“Pretty much,” she says, nodding. “Classic red flag behavior. Nova probably realized that right after he called her ‘babe.’”

“She did,” I say, chuckling. “She told me she almost walked out when he tried signing her up for his multi-level marketing scheme.”

“People are still signing up for those?”

Dang.

Austin’s laugh is warm and soft, her shoulders shaking just enough to make Gio lift his head and glare at me for disrupting his peace.

Austin nods. “I don’t think Nova falls for it because she’s naive. I think she’s just looking for someone to love her.”

That hits me square in the chest. I sit there, processing her words as Gio shifts on Austin’s lap, curling into a ball. “Yeah,” I say finally, my voice quieter now. “I know.”

“She told me a little about that,” Austin says gently. “How hard it’s been since your mom passed. How it feels like she’s been trying to fill a void.”

I glance away, my jaw tightening. “She doesn’t talk to me about that stuff. She just jokes around, acts like she’s fine.”

“She doesn’t want to worry you. You’re busy and she looks up to you even though you’re the same age,” Austin says softly, her fingers still stroking Gio. “But she’s trying, Gio. She’s putting herself out there, even if she picks the wrong guys sometimes. She just... wants to feel wanted.”

The knot in my chest tightens. “I hate that she feels like she has to do that. Like she has to chase after these idiots who don’t deserve her.”

“I think she’ll figure it out,” Austin says, her voice steady. “She’s smart. She’s just learning what she deserves—and that takes time.”

“She’s been through enough already. I just want her to be happy.”

Austin smiles at me, a warm, understanding look that makes me feel like I’m doing at least one thing right. For a moment, we sit there in the quiet, the weight of the conversation settling around us.

“Next time she goes on a date,” Austin snorts. “Maybe we should double-team it,” she says with a grin. “I’ll vet him, and you can glare at him from across the room.”

That is a great fucking idea. “I love it. In fact, we should take her phone and do the swiping for her.”

Austin bursts out laughing, shaking her head. “You think Nova’s going to hand over her phone and let us play matchmaker? You’re bonkers.”

“No seriously. This is an amazing idea…”

“I have a question,” she says. “Why haven’t you ever set Nova up with one of your teammates? There are so many single guys on your team.”

I groan. “Now you sound like her.”

Austin’s eyes widen with delight. “Wait, she’s actually asked you to set her up with one of your teammates?”

“Teammates. Assistant coaches…” I admit, shaking my head humorously. “‘Gio, aren’t there any decent single guys on your team?’”

“And your answer is always no?” Austin asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” I say, shrugging.

“Why?”

“Have you met my teammates?” She hasn’t—but she will. “They’re great on the ice, but off? Half of them think microwaving ramen counts as cooking. Nova deserves better than a guy who forgets his laundry in the washer for three days and walks around smelling like mold.”

Austin laughs, leaning into the couch. “So, you’ve never even considered it? Not once?”

“No.”

She seems to give this some thought. “Question: if you had to choose one guy to set her up with, who would it be?”

I shake my head. “No one.”

“This is a game—you have to play.”

I shake my head again. “Don’t want to. The last thing I want to do is visualize her banging Jank or Tyler or whatever dipshit she dates.”

Not happening.

She pretends to think this over, tapping her chin. “What about your captain, Wes? He’s got that whole ‘strong and silent leader’ thing going on. Girls love a broody guy. ”

I glare at her. “Wes? He drinks pickle juice straight from the jar.”

“So? I drink pickle juice straight from the jar.” She tilts her head, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Ooh, I’ve got it! The manager, Fitz. He’s tall. Cute.”

“He’s allergic to peanut butter,” I deadpan.

“Oh my God, so?”

“ So. Nova loves peanut butter. That’s a deal breaker.”

Austin stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You are seriously a cock blocker. These are the dumbest reasons not to date someone I’ve ever heard.” Pause. “Give me one guy.”

I have to think long and hard about this.

Austin stops petting Gio to nudge me. “Well? I’m waiting. One guy. Give me one .”

I exhale slowly, racking my brain. “Fine. If I had to pick someone…” I pause for dramatic effect. “Luca.”

“Luca?” Austin’s eyes widen. “The backup goalie?”

“Sure, why not?” I shrug, trying to sound casual. “He’s decent.”

She bursts out laughing so hard she startles Gio into jumping off her lap and onto the floor.

“Decent? Luca is a human golden retriever. Your sister would eat him alive.”

Fun Fact: I love that Austin knows so much about hockey…until she knows too much about the players and who may or may not make a good match for my sister.

“At least he’s polite,” I argue. “He says thank you to his elders, aka, me. Which is more than I can say for half the idiots she’s dated.”

Austin calls the dog back up to her lap. “Do we honestly think Nova would get a lady boner for a guy who apologizes every time someone bumps into him ?”

I roll my eyes. “You asked for a name—I gave you one. Take it or leave it.”

“You’re right. This is great,” she says, grinning like she’s just figured something out. “However, I personally think you picked Luca because he’s harmless. Nova would never, in a million years, go for him.”

“That’s not true,” I lie.

He’s not her type.

My sister enjoys an Alpha male—like me, kind of—and Luca Babineaux is not one.

“You can’t stand the idea of her dating anyone, can you? Admit it—you’re the ultimate overprotective brother.”

“I’m not overprotective,” I grumble. “I just don’t want her with some moron.”

“Right.” Her eyes roll. “So, basically everyone you’ve ever met.”

“Exactly.”

She laughs again, shaking her head. “Poor Nova. Good thing she doesn’t let you vet her boyfriends, or she’d be single forever.”

I shake my head to argue. “I don’t want her to be single forever. I want her to be happy, the same way we are.”

“You know, if these guys knew you were talking about them this way, they would die. Luca would die…”

She’s not wrong.

Luca would shit his pants.

“I just hope,” Austin reaches up to stroke the bottom of my chin, “your plan isn’t to gatekeep every guy on the team until Nova gives up and focuses on her knitting career?”

“She doesn’t knit,” I snap, and Austin dissolves into laughter again.

“Relax, I’m kidding,” she says, grinning as she wipes a tear from her eye. “But seriously, if Luca’s just a hypothetical and the rest are idiots, what kind of guy do we want her to date?”

I hesitate, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t know. Someone… decent. Dependable. Kind. Someone who treats her right.”

Austin softens, her teasing grin fading into something more thoughtful. “You know, for all your big brother bear energy, that’s very sweet.”

I shrug, avoiding her gaze and fixating on the TV. “She deserves the best. That’s all.”

Austin smiles, tickling my neck. “Don’t worry. Nova’s got a good head on her shoulders. She can handle herself. Probably better than you give her credit for.”

I sigh, knowing she’s right but still unable to shake the instinct to protect. “Yeah, well, I’m still keeping an eye on her.”

I lean down, kissing the tip of her nose.

There’s a knock at the door and Gio scrambles toward the door, barking like he’s auditioning for a guard dog gig. “Guess dinner’s here,” she says, untangling herself from the couch.

I follow, pulling Gio back by his collar before he can launch himself at the delivery guy and to both of our surprise, he lets me.

“Relax, buddy. It’s just food.”

Opening the door, I’m greeted by a guy holding a takeout bag and wearing the world’s most unimpressed expression as he holds it toward me, blue ball cap pulled low over his eyes.

“Thanks, man.” It smells so fucking delicious and my stomach agrees. “Tip is in the app.”

“Sure,” the delivery guy mutters, barely sparing me a glance as he turns and goes to stride back down the hall.

Stops in his tracks.

Looks over his shoulder.

“Are you…” His head gives a shake. “Montagalo?”

I grin, hand still curled around little Gio’s collar as he does his best to break free and tear the man to shreds, all false bravado and posturing.

Meanwhile, the delivery guy drops his act completely, replacing it with a wide grin that looks out of place under the shadow of his cap. He takes a half step back, looking me up and down like he’s trying to match the face in front of him with the one he’s seen on game highlights or the roster page .

He can’t believe it.

“Damn, man, I knew it,” he says, pointing a finger at me like I’ve just won a game in overtime. “Man, you have no idea how much I love you, holy shit,” he continues, vibrating with excitement. “That double save in OT last night? The glove snag, and then the pad stack? I rewound that three times.”

“Well it’s good to meet you.”

“I’ve delivered here before,” he says. “Never seen you.”

“I’m new here,” I laugh.

Gio barks sharply, trying once again to launch himself at the guy’s legs, his tiny frame full of unnecessary aggression. I tighten my grip on his collar and hold him back. “Dude, chill. He’s a fan.”

The delivery guy laughs, stepping back again like Gio might actually take him down—all ten pounds of him. “I mean, I’d probably be barking too if I got to live with you!”

“Thanks man, I appreciate it.”

The guy hesitates. “Could I…I hate to ask. Can I get a picture?”

“Yeah—sure, no problem.” Austin sneaks up behind me and takes her dog, carrying him out of the doorway and into the living room while the young fan takes a selfie.

“Man, my buddies are gonna freak when they see this,” he says, holding up his phone like it’s a trophy. “You’re their favorite player. Hell, you’re my favorite player.”

I laugh, rubbing the back of my neck.

My stomach protests. “Thanks, that means a lot. Glad I could make your day.”

The guy laughs again nervously, clearly not wanting to leave but aware he’s pushing his luck. “Alright, I’ll let you eat. Thanks again, man. Seriously. Highlight of my week.”

“No problem,” I say, giving him a wave as he finally turns to head back down the hallway. His footsteps echo away, but his excitement lingers in the air like static.

I close the door .

Austin lets Gio loose.

He scampers into the kitchen. Sits.

Stares up at me expectantly, whip of a tail wagging.

“That’s a first,” I say to him, rummaging through the food to unearth a fry. “Is this all it takes to win you over?” He’s been growling at me nonstop!

Unreal.

I toss him a sweet potato fry, and bend over.

Behind me, I hear Austin’s soft footsteps, and then her arms slide around my waist, warm and steady. Her chin comes to rest lightly against my shoulder as she leans into me, her body fitting perfectly against my back.

“Looks like you’ve won him over,” she murmurs, her voice low and teasing. Her breath brushes my ear, sending a faint, pleasant shiver down my spine. “Guess you’re not so bad with small, feisty creatures after all.”

I smirk, tossing another fry into my mouth. “Feisty creatures like you?”

“Ha ha,” she says dryly, but I can feel her smile against my shoulder. “But yes.”