Page 14 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie (Second Chance Hockey Players #2)

"Ow - okay, okay!" He holds up his hands in surrender, laughing. "Whit, relax."

I sit back, crossing my arms. "What possessed you to even say that?"

"I don’t know." He shrugs. "It just came out."

I roll my eyes. "You’re an idiot."

"Well, you’re my idiot sister, so."

I throw another pillow at him.

Keith laughs but quickly turns serious. "Look, I get why you’re mad. But honestly, Whit…, if you can help him out, it’d be great. I mean, it’s Blake."

“Seriously, what’s up with the ‘it’s Blake thingy’ today?” I shoot him an incredulous look. "Besides, do I look like someone qualified to be a nanny?" I gesture at myself. "I can barely keep a cactus alive!"

"I know. Which is sad for you."

Without hesitation, I grab the nearest pillow and hurl it at his face. " You’re impossible! "

He catches it last second, laughing. “Jeez, okay, okay, don’t kill me.”

I exhale, rubbing my temples. “This is ridiculous.”

Keith watches me for a second, and then his expression shifts, turning serious. “Look, Whit…, if you can help him out, it’d be great. Blake doesn’t say it - not even to me, his best friend - but he’s struggling. He’s been on edge these past few weeks.”

I glance away, my fingers curling into my sweater.

“He’s got a lot on his plate,” Keith continues. “And yeah, he’s a good dad, but he can’t do everything.”

Silence lingers between us for a moment. I hate that I feel…, something. A twinge of sympathy, maybe.

Keith leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Look, baby sis, no pressure. You can decide not to do it, and no one would hold it against you. But before you say no…” His voice softens. “I’m asking you to think about it. Please.”

I press my lips together, staring at him.

Think about it.

Yeah, like it’s that easy.

****

Three days have passed since Blake’s proposition, and somehow, it has been taking up way too much space in my head.

No matter how hard I try to push it aside - whether while making and editing my videos or helping out with wedding planning, it lingers in the background, looping over and over like a song I can’t turn off.

And honestly? It’s annoying.

I don’t want to blur the lines between our present and our past - whatever it is we had. Or didn’t have. Or almost had. The point is that there are complications, and this would just add another layer to it.

But then…, I can’t shake the image of his face from my mind.

The desperation in his eyes. The resignation in his posture. The vulnerability in his voice when he asked me to think about it.

I roll onto my back on the bed, arms flung out wide as I stare at the ceiling. " Seriously, " I groan aloud, " this is hard. "

“But then…,” I sit up abruptly, running a hand through my hair. "I’m not really doing it for Blake," I mutter, trying to convince myself. "If I do decide to do this, it’s for the kids, right? After all, what’s so wrong in taking care of them for just a few weeks?"

I pause. Then groan.

“Oh, I don’t know, Whitney. Maybe the part where you’d have to see him every day? Be around him, be in his space, and pretend like your history doesn’t exist?”

I fall back onto the bed, covering my face.

But then, another voice - stupidly reasonable - whispers, "and maybe the part where you’d actually be helping two kids who need stability?"

I squeeze my eyes shut.

"This has disaster written all over it."

I exhale sharply, grabbing my phone off the nightstand. Before I know it, my fingers are dialing his number like they’ve got a mind of their own.

It rings once.

Twice.

"Hello?" His voice is low, familiar, and annoyingly warm.

"Hi," I say, clearing my throat. "It’s me. Whitney."

"Yeah, I know." I can hear the smile in his voice, followed by a soft chuckle. "You have one of the sweetest voices."

My cheeks heat instantly, and I roll my eyes at myself. Get a grip. I shake my head and clear my throat again, this time with more purpose. "Are you free at four? If yes, then let’s meet at the Sweet Bean Café."

“All right,” there’s a pause. "Is everything okay?"

I smirk, leaning back against my pillows. "Oh, you’ll definitely find out when you get there."

And with that, I hang up.

****

At exactly four, Blake walks into the café, the twins, Mia, and Nico, holding his hands, looking ridiculously adorable.

Mia is dressed in a soft pink sweater tucked into a denim skirt, paired with white tights and tiny ankle boots. Sitting perfectly atop her dark curls is the real star of her outfit – a baby-pink beret.

Nico, on the other hand, is a mini-back-in-the-day-Blake on a very casual day in black jogger pants, a matching hoodie, and crisp white sneakers.

I wave them over, and I swear, their eyes light up at the same time, in the same way. My heart does this weird little flip, and before I know it, I’m fighting not to grin like an idiot.

Then my gaze shifts to Blake.

And…, wow!

Fitted black turtleneck. Sleek leather jacket. Dark pants that fit way too well. His effortless confidence only makes the look more striking.

I take a slow sip of my drink to keep my face neutral.

As soon as they reach my table, I break into a smile, looking at the kids. "Oh, my goodness, you two are just…, so beautiful and handsome! Honestly, I’ve missed you guys."

Mia grins. "I missed you too! And I think Nico missed you more because he kept asking Dadda about you."

Nico glares at his sister, looking shy. “Mia!”

I chuckle. "Well, thanks for missing me."

After chatting with the kids a bit more, I finally look at Blake.

"Hi."

"Hey," he says, his voice low and warm, "I had to get these two ready. Did you wait long?"

I shake my head. "Not at all. You got here on time."

We order hot chocolates and cookies for the kids, making sure they’re settled before turning our attention to each other.

"All right," I say, leaning in slightly. "I’m gonna cut straight to the chase."

Blake nods. "Okay."

I look at Mia and Nico, a soft smile tugging at my lips. Mia’s talking a mile a minute, her hands waving animatedly, while Nico sits quietly beside her, nodding along like her biggest fan. Then, without a word, he reaches over and gently wipes a smear of cocoa from her mouth.

My heart tugs at the simple, unspoken care between them. Sweet and so…, irresistible.

And before I know it, I sigh. “Fine.”

Blake blinks. “Fine?”

I shake my head, feeling like I’m being pulled into something I’ll regret later. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

His brows lift slightly like he wasn’t expecting me to actually say yes. “Just like that?”

I exhale, feeling the weight of my decision settle in. “Don’t make me say it again.”

He blinks, then leans forward slightly. “What made you change your mind?”

I don’t even bother explaining. Instead, I just lift a finger and point at the two little humans in front of me.

Mia and Nico, completely unaware of the shift in conversation, are busy giggling over something, their faces lighting up with pure joy.

Mia whispers something to Nico, and he immediately bursts into laughter, his small shoulders shaking as he leans into her.

Blake follows my gaze, his expression softening.

I shrug. “It’s for them. I have a soft spot for adorable kids.” Then, my gaze flicks back to him, unimpressed. “Unfortunately, that soft spot doesn’t extend to their infuriating father.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, chuckling and a slow, relieved smile spreads across his face. He reaches across the table, his warm, strong hand covering mine.

I look down at our hands before gently pulling mine back. “It’s no biggie,” I say lightly, “after all, it’s just business.”

Strictly business. No nostalgia. No reminiscing pleasure. No…, anything else.