Page 16 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie (Second Chance Hockey Players #2)

Chapter eleven

Whitney

T oo soft.

That’s my first thought as I stir awake, shifting against the ridiculously plush mattress. No way this is mine. My mattress at home is firm, a little lumpy, and doesn’t feel like I’m sinking into a cloud.

Sunlight spills through the windows, warming my face. My eyes blink open, and the sight above me makes me freeze. A chandelier. A big, fancy one.

I bolt upright, heart thudding as I take in the unfamiliar room - spacious, modern, huge windows, plush furniture, and a walk-in closet slightly ajar, not my tiny bedroom back home.

This isn’t my room.

“Where am I?” I blurt, my voice rough from sleep.

Then I hear it.

A giggle.

Then another.

The fog in my brain clears just as two little voices whisper outside the door.

And just like that, it hits me.

Blake’s house. I moved in yesterday.

I let out a breath, dragging a hand through my hair. Right. I agreed to this. Live-in nanny. Temporary.

Just thinking about yesterday makes my stomach knot.

Telling my family - it had been a whole thing - I was prepared for arguments, for my mom to clutch her chest and gasp as I’d just told her I was moving to Mars.

Instead, she barely batted an eye. My dad nodded.

My sister even muttered something about how I was “finally doing something interesting.”

But the real shock? Mom helped me pack.

No lectures. No guilt trips. Just her folding my clothes, slipping in a few extra sweaters, and telling me to “be good.” It was…, weird. Weirdly easy.

Maybe it’s too easy.

But before I can dwell on that, the giggling outside my door turns into a full-on whisper battle.

“You do it.”

“No, you do it!”

“Okay, on three.”

I barely have time to fully process that thought before two tiny figures burst into my room, practically vibrating with excitement.

“You’re awake!” Mia squeals, jumping onto the bed.

Nico follows, rubbing one sleepy eye. He stops at the edge of the bed, tilting his head at me. “Why were you sleeping so long?”

I blink at them. “Why are you up so early?”

Mia giggles, crawling closer. “Cause, it’s morning, silly!”

I glance at the clock on the nightstand. 6:42 a.m.

I groan, flopping back against the pillows. “No. It is too early. Go back to sleep. Or at least pretend. Come back in…, five hours,” (obviously, knowing that’s not happening).

Mia pokes my cheek. “But we’re awake already.”

Nico nods solemnly. “Yes, we can’t go back to sleep.”

I let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “So, you’re telling me you broke into my room because you guys are up?”

Mia grins. “Yes.”

“What about your dad?”

Nico climbs onto the bed, pressing a finger to his lips. “Shhh. Don’t tell Daddy we came in here.”

I raise a brow. “Oh? So, you do know what you’re doing is wrong?”

They both giggle like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

I exhale dramatically, sitting up. “All right, fine. But next time, maybe knock instead of ambushing me in my sleep?”

Mia gasps. “We should have knocked, Nico!”

Nico shrugs. “Maybe next time.”

I snort. I’m so outnumbered.

With an exaggerated sigh, I throw off the covers and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. The twins immediately grab my hands, dragging me toward the door with surprising strength for two little humans.

“All right, all right, I’m coming!” I laugh, letting them pull me along.

As soon as we step into the hallway, the smell of coffee hits me. The house is quiet except for the soft hum of the morning - birds outside, the faint sound of the coffee machine, and the patter of four-year-old feet on the hardwood floor.

I notice the pictures lining the walls.

Large, framed photographs - most of them of the twins.

In one, Mia and Nico sit on a picnic blanket, chubby hands clutching dripping ice cream cones, their faces smeared with chocolate and strawberry swirls.

In another, they’re bundled up in winter coats, standing in front of a half-built snowman, Mia’s mittens covered in snow while Nico grins with a missing front tooth.

There are older ones too. A baby picture of them in matching onesies, Nico drooling on Mia’s shoulder. Another of Blake holding both of them at once, looking utterly exhausted but smiling.

And then - one I don’t expect. One that makes me pause.

It is a picture of Blake and a woman.

Her.

She is beautiful, with dark hair and kind eyes, holding both babies in her arms. Blake stands beside her, one hand on her back, the other on Nico’s tiny leg, his expression unreadable.

Their mother.

I swallow, suddenly feeling like I’m intruding. But before I can dwell on it, Mia tugs my hand again, her little voice breaking through my thoughts.

“Come on!” She urges. “Let’s go!”

I shake off the heaviness and let her drag me forward, leaving the memories hanging on the walls behind us.

But the second I step into the living room, all thoughts evaporate.

Because there, standing in the middle of the space as some Greek sculpture comes to life, is Blake.

And he’s shirtless.

Track pants hang low on his hips, revealing the sharp cut of his abs - the kind of defined muscle that looks almost unfair.

His broad chest is all lean strength, his biceps flexing slightly as he runs a hand through his already messy hair.

A light dusting of stubble shadows his jaw, making him look even more rugged than usual.

Oh.

It’s been years since I last saw him like this, and he’s gotten more built. The Blake I knew was fit, sure, but this? This is a whole different level of unfairness.

His abs? There are six. Maybe eight. Who is counting?

Oh, for the love of God.

“PUT ON A SHIRT!” I blurt, throwing my hands over my eyes like some Victorian maiden about to faint.

Blake drops his arms, lips twitching as he glances down at himself. “Good morning to you too.”

I peek through my fingers, glaring. “Seriously. Some of us weren’t prepared for a full-on Magic Mike moment before coffee.”

“What’s a Magic Mike?” Mia asks.

I drop my hands. “Nothing! Forget I said that. Seriously, this is a violation. There are children present!”

Mia tilts her head. “What’s wrong?”

I gesture wildly at Blake, while Nico answers Mia, “Daddy has no shirt.”

“But Daddy has no shirt every morning.”

“Glad we’re all observant.” Blake chuckles, crossing his arms over his very, very distracting chest. “Relax. It’s just a body, Whit.”

I hear the amusement in his tone and groan. Smug ass.

“Did you at least sleep well?” He asks, sounding way too casual for someone half-naked in front of company.

I cross my arms, still facing away from him. “I did.”

“Daddy, we made her wake up!” Mia announces proudly.

Beside her, Nico lets out a dramatic sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose like a tiny, exasperated adult. “Mia,” he groans, “I thought we weren’t gonna tell, Daddy.”

Mia gasps, slapping both hands over her mouth like she just spilled a government secret. Then, ever so slowly, she turns to Blake, eyes wide, lips pressing into a wobbly pout.

"Daddy," she says sweetly, tilting her head, blinking up at him with the biggest, most innocent puppy-dog eyes - "can you forget I told you that?"

“Oh? You want me to forget?”

Mia nods furiously. “Yes, please.”

Nico sighs, rubbing his forehead like he has been dealing with her antics for years. “You’re so bad at secrets.”

Mia sticks her tongue out at him.

Blake chuckles, setting his mug down. “Alright, kiddo. I will forget about it.”

Mia beams. “Yay!” Then she leans toward Nico and whispers (not very quietly), “See? He won’t remember.”

Blake smirks over the rim of his mug. “I was wondering why you guys were up this early. You usually wake up at 7:30 a.m.”

The twins look at each other, then shrug in perfect unison.

“Daddy!” Mia tugs on his hand. “We’re hungry.”

Nico nods solemnly. “Starving.”

Blake sighs but ruffles their hair. “All right. What do you guys want for breakfast?”

“Scrambled eggs!” They chime in unison.

“And toast!” Mia adds.

“With ketchup,” Nico says.

I wrinkle my nose. “Ketchup on eggs?”

Nico gasps. “You don’t like ketchup on eggs?”

“No, because I have taste buds.”

Mia giggles, and Blake shakes his head, already moving toward the kitchen.

But I stop him.

“Dude, seriously. Shirt.”

Blake smirks, turning back to me. “Why? You can’t handle this?”

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Oh, please.”

His smirk deepens. “I don’t know, Whit. You were staring pretty hard.”

“Excuse you? I was horrified.”

“Sure, you were.”

I scowl, scanning the room until I spot a hoodie draped over the couch. Snatching it up, I toss it at his face.

Blake catches it with one hand, chuckling as he pulls it on. “Better?”

I sigh dramatically. “Much.”

He grins, shaking his head as he heads to the kitchen.

And just like that, my first day here begins.

While Blake busies himself with breakfast, I take charge of the twins, ushering them toward the bathroom.

“All right, you two, let’s get those teeth brushed.

” Mia groans dramatically, while Nico drags his feet, but eventually, I manage to get them freshened up, faces washed, and dressed for the day.

By the time we return, the scent of scrambled eggs fills the air. We all settle at the table, and breakfast goes surprisingly smoothly. When we’re done, Blake pushes back his chair, grabbing his keys. He crouches to kiss the twins. “Be good for Whitney, okay?”

“Yes, Daddy!” They chime in unison.

Then, he turns to me. “Their tutor won’t be coming in today - she is down with the flu. Take care of them for me.”

I nod. “Got it.”

With one last glance at the twins, he heads for the door. And just like that, it’s just me and them.

The day passes in a blur of games, snack breaks, and endless questions.

They have an energy level that should be studied by scientists, bouncing from one activity to the next with barely a pause.

I keep them busy with coloring, a puzzle that quickly turns into a contest, and an impromptu dance session in the living room.

Taking care of them is easier than I thought it would be - exhausting, yes, but surprisingly fun.

And just like that, one day turns into two. Then three. Then four.

I find a rhythm with them faster than I expected.

They are mischievous but sweet, constantly testing my patience yet making me laugh in the next breath.

Nico likes to act serious but is secretly the biggest cuddler.

Mia, on the other hand, is a whirlwind of excitement, always ready with a wild idea.

They have completely grown on me.

I don’t even fight it anymore.

But what I do fight - desperately - is the attraction I feel toward Blake.

Despite my best efforts to keep things platonic, there’s an undeniable shift between Blake and me.

It’s subtle at first, and easy to ignore.

A lingering glance here, a casual brush of his hand, the way his voice deepens when he calls my name, or how my pulse picks up when he’s near.

As the days pass, it becomes impossible to push aside.

Because memories creep in.

The way he used to look at me. The way he used to kiss me. The way I used to love him.

I tell myself it’s nothing, just nostalgia.

I keep reminding myself that things are different now. That we’re different. But are we?

Because every time our eyes meet for a second too long or he smirks at something I say, leaving me to wonder…

Am I really over him?

Or am I just fooling myself?

I don’t have the answers. But one thing is clear - ignoring it is getting harder by the day, and I fear I just might break and give in to him, again - if it comes to it.