Page 6

CHAPTER 6

Just Be Nice

KELLEN

“ A tticus’s poor sister.” Harley stops next to me with his hands shoved in his pockets.

I’m still lingering in the doorframe, a grin on my face, a chuckle in my throat.

Harley’s always the one who thinks about other people’s feelings. Which is probably why he’s been in such a stable long-term relationship, even if his girlfriend is back in his Maine hometown.

I let out the laugh. Poor girl? Yeah, okay, I can see that. But she’s the amusement I need in my life right now.

“Did you see her face? That was the funniest thing I’ve witnessed in a long time.” Lachlan says in his Aussie accent. There aren’t many Aussie NHL players—just one other in the league.

“It really was.” I head to my locker, dropping my towel to step into boxers. “She was especially horrified to see your hairy ass.”

“My ass is not hairy, mate. It’s smooth as a baby’s bottom. That’s what waxing is for.”

“Christ.” I shake my head and pull on jogging pants.

“Want to see? Maybe you should take care of your hairy ass.”

“My ass isn’t—” I stop. “You know what? Fuck off.”

Lachlan laughs and reaches for his hoodie. “I can’ t wait to tell Atticus.” He runs his hand through his long, blond curls, securing them back into the man bun we mercilessly make fun of him for.

Doesn’t seem to stop him from getting women.

Being a professional hockey player plus that damn Australian accent gets them every time. The tattoos and beard haven’t hurt him either.

“Tell me what?” Atticus emerges from the showers in a towel.

“You missed your sister, Atter.”

“Lucy?” He furrows his brow. “In here?”

“Yeah.” I answer Atticus because Lachlan is laughing too hard. “She walked right into the locker room.”

“Why the actual fuck would she do that?” Atticus groans.

“Apparently she has—had?—a meeting with Coach.”

“Oh, shit.” Atticus glances back over his shoulder through the glass, where Coach Jackson is typing something painfully slowly with two fingers.

“Yeah.”

“Was everyone dressed?” With a slight panic in his voice, Atticus scans the room, where there are no asses or dicks on display.

At least not anymore.

“Absolutely not,” another player calls out.

“It could’ve been worse,” I say helpfully. “I think it was only Lachlan’s ass that was visible.”

“And my dick,” Lachlan adds, now that his laughing has died down. “But I don’t think she saw.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Atticus rubs his hands on his face. “Alright. Listen up, assholes!” he yells to the room. The side conversations die down.

I turn to him and cross my arms, biting back a smirk. This should be good.

Atticus turns in a circle, looking each of our teammates in the eye. Trying to look intimidating? Which normally I could see happening, given his height and bulk. But it’s not quite working right now. Probably because when I look at him with his red curly hair, I think of his sister’s expression when she realized she was in the same room as a half-naked hockey team.

“My sister Lucy is working for the team for just one season to cover Fiona’s maternity leave.” He pauses. “Please be nice.”

The room bursts into laughter.

“Seriously. She’s had a rough time recently and could use some friendly faces.”

“You’re not going to tell us she’s off-limits?” Lachlan raises his eyebrows.

“I don’t think I have to as we’re not supposed to date team staff.” Atticus glares at Lachlan.

Of course he thinks Lachlan is the most likely to cross that line. He usually is. But this time, I wonder if I’m the one more interested in the pretty new staffer. Not that I’ll do a thing about it. I don’t need woman drama in my life. More woman drama, anyway.

“She just broke off her engagement and is figuring out her life. Don’t mess with her.”

The laughter fades away.

“We’ll be nice,” I say. Lachlan nods in agreement.

I pull on my gray t-shirt, tugging down the hem.

I don’t date because it makes my life too complicated. I’m always on the road during hockey season—which is most of the year—and when I’m here, I like to focus on Ava.

And the one recent time I took a chance on someone, it backfired.

Last fall, I’d gotten involved with a woman who worked for one of the craft breweries in town. I’d met her on a night out with the boys. She and her two friends had sung “Like a Prayer” by Madonna, then Lachlan and Atticus sang that 500 miles song by the Proclaimers.

Sam seemed sweet, but she was twenty-five, more than five years younger than I am, which is usually not my jam. She got attached quickly. But after she came with me to the fall festival last October—most of the team volunteers at the event—and couldn’t figure out how to interact with Ava or Bri, I broke it off. I wasn’t feeling it anyway.

But she sold me out.

Literally sold pictures of me and Ava to the same sleazy hockey tabloid that has the photograph of me and Savannah. NHL Tea. What’s worse is she told the tabloid about how I’d recently taken Ava down to Denver Children’s Hospital for her annual oncology checkup. Ava’s one hundred percent healthy these days, but we still do annual visits to make sure she stays that way. I’ve always kept that out of the press.

As if I don’t have enough PTSD about Ava’s treatment and long-term care. Bri does too. I don’t need to see it in the press.

The team had my back.

They turned the publicity into a fundraiser for childhood cancer research and raised a shit ton of money.

It was another lesson in how I can’t let anyone near my family. I need to protect my daughter in every way I can. And that includes not dating women who could get close to Ava and hurt us somehow.

So just because I have the tiniest little crush on the new PR person doesn’t mean anything will happen.

It’ll stay just that—a secret crush that never sees the light of day.

“Hey.” Atticus is now dressed and steps next to my locker, which I’m staring into blankly. “I know I can count on you to be friendly to Lucy.”

Christ. I’m such a non-threat to women that Atticus is asking me to watch out for his sister. My image is too soft.

“Sure, I guess.”

“And listen—” Atticus slaps his hand on my shoulder. “I was thinking about Ava’s soccer coach situation.”

I chuckle. “Yeah? Why? You have time to coach?” Clearly, I overshare with my teammates. They’re my extended family, especially Atticus, Lachlan, and Harley.

“No, but my sister coached little kids when she was living in D.C. She loved doing it. I bet she’d be happy to help you out.”

“What? Oh.” There’s no way I’d let someone I don’t know around my daughter. I shake my head. “That’s an idea, but?—”

“Kellen.” Atticus removes his hand from my shoulder and stands up straight. “She’s not some stranger. She’s my sister. You can trust her. I promise.” Atticus walks away.

Past experience and being a professional athlete have taught me to be overly cautious about who I trust with myself and, even more so, my daughter. Ava’s face pops into my head, begging me to be her soccer coach. I know she’s only in kindergarten, but I want to give her everything in life. I’ll have to find another way to help her. Maybe I’ll hire a background-checked professional soccer coach to come in to train her team.

Throwing money at problems doesn’t always solve them, but maybe in this case, it would.