Page 32 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie (Second Chance Hockey Players #2)

Chapter twenty-one

Whitney

S ilence.

Thick, heavy silence stretches between us, the kind that fills the air with unspoken words and restrained emotions. I sit stiffly in the chair, staring at the woman across from me, mirroring my posture - her arms crossed, gaze locked, not a single muscle betraying a reaction.

Her!

Olivia!

Blake’s ex. Mia and Nico’s mother. Olivia.

What the heck is she doing here?

That’s a silly question, Whit. What if she’s here to see the kids??? Or take them away??? Or, or get back together with Blake???

Okay, calm down, Whit.

Her once-blinding blonde hair - the kind that made her look like she belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine is now a deep brunette.

A deep, glossy brown, pulled into a high ponytail so sleek it probably took an army of products to keep a single strand from falling out of place.

Typical Olivia - always polished, always perfect.

She was a girl who never had to try too hard because everything just worked for her.

The looks, charm, and ability to make people bend backward with nothing but a well-placed smile.

For a long time, she walked around like the world was hers for the taking. And to be fair? It kind of was.

And yeah, maybe I’m a little bitter. So what?

And now? Sitting across from me, arms crossed, face unreadable, she still holds herself as the world owes her something.

The kids are napping in their room. I don’t know why but I kind of feel relieved at that.

The house is quiet. The only sound is the slow tick of the clock on the wall.

And if you are wondering why two women are in the quiet house, not saying anything, it is because we are having a staring contest. One I intend to win, even though my eyes are stinging at the moment.

Blink. Blink. Or look away, Olivia. Do it, because I can feel my eyes twitching and would be out in.

Five, four, three, two….

Olivia exhales, clears her throat, and looks away.

Victory.

I resist the smirk threatening to curl my lips, but in my head, I’m pumping a fist in the air.

“So…,” Olivia finally says, her voice smooth, clipped. “You’re here.”

I tilt my head. “So are you.”

A flicker of irritation crosses her face. “Why are you here, though?”

I arch a brow. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Her lips curve, but it’s not a smile. It’s the kind of smirk that’s meant to cut. “I’m not surprised. You always did hover around Blake.”

I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Hover?”

She shrugs one shoulder, an infuriatingly casual motion. “That’s what it looked like from where I was standing.”

“Funny,” I say, tilting my head in mock thought. “I wouldn’t call it hovering since, one, I don’t hover. He hovered - oh, and still hovers, just so you know.”

Her fingers twitch where they rest on her knee.

Ha. Take that.

“And secondly,” I continue, voice dripping with syrupy sweetness, “if anyone’s an expert on hovering, it’s you. I mean, you practically had a permanent orbit around him back then.”

Olivia’s smirk falters, just a fraction, but I see it.

Bullseye.

She leans back, crossing her legs like we’re just two old friends catching up.

Oh, please...

“Oh?” Olivia hums, tilting her head like she’s amused. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

I flash her the sweetest, most innocent smile I can muster. “Oh, nothing. Just that you used to stick to Blake like gum on a hot sidewalk.” I tap my chin in fake thought. “No, wait, gum eventually gets scraped off. You were more like…, a leech. Yeah. That’s the one.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, but her tone remains smooth. “Well, can you blame me? When you have something good, you don’t just let it slip away.”

“But you did let it get away though. You let a lot get away, hm?”

That does it. Her eyes darken, her fingers gripping the edge of the couch like she’s debating whether clawing my face off is worth the assault charge.

I smile wider.

“You must think you’re so clever,” Olivia finally says, her voice as smooth as glass - but just as breakable.

“Oh, not at all,” I chirp. “I just think I’m right.”

She exhales a small, amused breath. “Right.” She uncrosses her legs, shifting forward slightly. “Tell me, Whitney, are you and Blake back together? Or are you just planning to secretly seduce him again?”

I blink, slowly. “Again?”

She scoffs. “Oh, don’t act clueless. You think I didn’t know? You two were something back then. Right?”

I let a slow, knowing smile spread across my lips. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Olivia narrows her eyes. “Cute.”

“I try,” I say breezily, leaning back against my chair. “But humor me - how exactly did you come to that conclusion?”

She opens her mouth, but before she can get a single word out, I hold up a hand.

I lower my voice, widening my eyes in fake wonder.

“It’s because you’re smart , right?” I nod, like I just cracked some grand mystery.

“That’s it. You’re just so perceptive, so incredibly intuitive , that you just knew. ”

She lifts her chin. “Exactly.”

I let a beat pass. Then, with the sweetest, most innocent voice I can manage, I say, “Smart, perceptive, and incredibly intuitive enough to leave your kids, I presume?”

The silence that follows is heavy. Thick. Charged.

For the first time since she walked in, Olivia loses that cool, detached front. Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to respond but didn’t know how.

Oh, Whitney, you’re so evil.

I know…. And perhaps for the first time, I enjoy being this evil.

Before she can say anything, the front door opens.

Both of our heads turn at the same time.

Blake steps inside, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, expression neutral as he takes in the scene. His gaze flicks between me and Olivia, lingering just a second longer on me, reading the tension like a seasoned referee about to call a foul.

Olivia stands, smooth and graceful, moving toward him with an ease that makes my stomach twist.

And then - subtle but unmistakable - he moves. Just a slight shift to the side, like he’s adjusting his bag. It’s not obvious, not rude, but clear enough. The hug never lands.

Her hands drop.

She recovers quickly, plastering a smile on her face. “Blake.”

His face remains unreadable. “Olivia.”

“How are you?” She asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s been a while.”

“I’m good,” he says simply. “How are you?”

She smiles, too sweet. “I’m good, as you can see.”

He nods and gives me a ‘what’s going on’ look and I shrug in response.

Her eyes flick over him, then me, and back to him, something unreadable in her expression. “Um…, I was actually in town, just got in today. So, I thought…”

Blake exhales, looking at his wristwatch. "If you’re here for the kids, they’re napping right now, so…?"

"Oh, I know," Olivia cuts in, waving a hand. "Well, yes, I did come to see them, but…!" She steps closer. "I wanted to see you, too." Her voice softens. "I just got back in town, and I thought maybe we could…, catch up."

My eyes roll before I can stop them.

I push myself up from the chair. "Well, now that you're here, I’ll leave you both to…, catch up."

Blake’s head snaps toward me, his brows pulling together. He steps forward, reaching for my hand. "Whit…"

"It’s fine," I say smoothly, slipping my hand from his grasp. Then, I glance at Olivia, offering to give her a sweet, not-so-sweet smile. "It was interesting meeting you."

She smirks. "Likewise. Thanks for keeping me company. It was fun."

“I bet it was.” I turn toward my room but pause, glancing back at her with a saccharine smile.

“Oh, and just so you know - Blake and I? Very much back together. And he still hovers. A lot. Drives me insane, honestly…, in all the best ways.” I let my voice drop into something softer, more suggestive. “ All the best ways.”

I tilt my head, letting the words settle. “Figured you’d want to update that little theory of yours.” I watch her smirk falter - just for a second. Then I give her a little wave and turn around. Just before I disappear into the hall, I hear it…

"I’ve missed you, Blake."

My steps falter for just a second.

And then, I keep walking.

****

It’s been an hour.

Sixty long, agonizing minutes of me sitting, standing, pacing, sitting again, and then pacing some more.

What the heck are they even talking about?

Is she trying to come back into the kids’ lives? Would Blake let her? Of course, he would. She’s their mother. The kids need their mother. But what about me? What about us?

Will history repeat itself?

Will he choose her again?

Ugh. I drop onto the bed, only to spring up again three seconds later. I can’t sit still. My mind is a storm of questions, and the only thing worse than the questions is the waiting.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I tiptoe down the hallway, stopping just short of the living room. If I lean in just a little, I might be able to hear…

“Whitney Marie Langford, you better not be eavesdropping!”

My mother’s voice practically slaps me from inside my head, and I flinch, whipping around and bolting back to my room like I just got caught committing a crime.

Ten minutes later, meaning an hour and ten minutes later, I hear footsteps approaching my door.

My heart leaps into my throat, and before I can even think, I fling myself onto the bed, grab my phone in one hand and a book in the other, and put on my best I am totally unbothered and super invested in this book face.

Blake steps in, takes one look at me, and…, chuckles.

His arms cross over his chest as he leans against the doorframe, smirking. “What are you doing, shortcake?”

I lift my chin, forcing the most natural look on my face. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

He raises a brow, his lips twitching in amusement.

I wave both the phone and book slightly. “Can’t you see? I’m reading. And handling my phone. It’s called multitasking.”

Blake pushes off the frame, strolling toward me with that stupid, knowing look on his face. “Uh-huh. Okay, multitasker, that’s great,” he says, amusement dripping from his voice. Then, he stops beside the bed, glancing down at my book. “But since when did you learn to read a book upside down?”

I blink.

My gaze drops to the book.

Oh.

Oh.

My eyes widen as I frantically flip it the right way up, then look back at him, clearing my throat. “It’s, um…, a skill I just discovered.”

Blake chuckles, sitting beside me. He plucks the phone and book from my hands, tossing them aside. Then, taking my hands, he turns me to face him.

“So…, this skill was awakened because of Olivia’s presence?” His voice is teasing, knowing. “You weren’t jealous or worried about anything?”

I scoff. “Me? Jealous? Definitely not.”

His lips twitch.

“And worried?” I continue. “Why would I be?”

Blake hums, tilting his head. “Oh…, so, that means the person I saw trying to eavesdrop earlier wasn’t you, yeah?”

“Absolutely not.”

He just laughs, shaking his head before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead…, then my lips. The warmth of it sends a shiver down my spine.

When he pulls back, his voice is gentle. “Olivia isn’t here to stay. She just wanted to talk about the kids.” His thumb strokes over my knuckles. “She also asked to meet tomorrow at a restaurant - says she has something to tell me.”

My stomach twists.

He lifts my chin. “No one is going to take your place again, Whit.” His voice is firm. Steady. “And I’m not telling you to go anywhere. You’re not going anywhere because I’m not letting you go.”

I swallow and nod.

Blake pulls me against his chest, his lips capturing mine in another deep kiss before wrapping his arms around me.

I want to believe him. I really do.

But the fear of history repeating itself still lingers.