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Sixty-Two

RHODES

“Apparently, that nanny of yours is our good luck charm.” Kane sighs, throwing his glove to the ground from the loss.

He took a hard hit to the face, but unfortunately, it didn’t knock any sort of restraint into his system, because shortly after, he found himself in the penalty box, and he’s still bound with aggression.

“That’s what you guys think you need? A good luck charm?”

I glance at Nicholas Tarvo, irritated by the sound of his voice.

He was awfully fucking quiet during the game, half the time searching in the stands more than looking for ways to tighten our offense.

I’m antsy and irritated.

Sometimes we lose. It’s hard to accept, but it happens.

I stand up, ignoring our new coach because I’m not a fucking fan of him.

“It seems like you all have forgotten what it feels like to lose. It happens.” I glance at Kane and his flexing jaw. “Get the anger out of your system, however that may be, and get back here in the morning to review tapes. The only way forward is to fix our mistakes and keep going.”

Coach Jacobs takes over, talking about our next game and how we need to come together and figure out the best way to beat them instead of finding ourselves in another situation like this one.

I’m dressed and ready to go before he’s even done talking, worried about Sunny and eager to grab Ellie.

It makes sense why the ones in relationships are always the first to leave the locker room. I now know what it’s like to have someone waiting for you at home, despite a loss or win.

Emory and I walk out together, knowing Scottie is going to meet us in the parking lot with Ellie. Crew Hart, the new guy who only dressed for the game instead of playing, bumps fists with Emory, walking in stride with us.

“You guys played hard,” he says. “I’m impressed. I can’t wait to get on the ice for the next game.”

Unable to keep quiet about our new coach, I scoff. “You know what I’m not impressed with? Tarvo.”

Emory is the goalie, so he doesn’t have to deal with anyone but his own line of coaches, but even he noticed. “Yeah, what was up with that? Is he a silent participant and will go heavier during practice tomorrow?”

Crew seems level-headed, and I know he’s played against Tarvo’s past line of offense. I lean forward and raise a brow. Got anything to add?

He shrugs and slings his bag up onto his shoulder. “I’ve heard some weird shit about him through the chatter.”

“Like?” Emory pokes.

“Well, I heard that Washington was forced to fire him because of some legal obligation. He and his wife got divorced, and I’m pretty sure she put a restraining order on him.”

Interesting.

Doesn’t have anything to do with his coaching ability, though.

I’m curious to see how he acts during tomorrow’s practice. It’s unlikely that I’ll like him, but here’s to hoping he has some pointers to help us get to the playoffs.

The scent of Sunny’s body wash fills the upstairs, and just like that, my stress is gone.

Ellie cuddles in my arms, fast asleep from the drive home, per usual after a game. Her little voice was raspy from shouting during the game, and I’ve never been prouder to have such a super-fan.

After placing her into bed and kissing her head, I head toward Sunny.

She said she was sick, and Scottie seemed concerned when I met her and Ellie at the truck. Apparently, Sunny was pale and clammy.

It worries me because of her recent concussion.

I push on her door and hear the shower running.

My dick pulls to attention, and I stare down at it. Stop.

The glow from the bathroom shines into her room, and coconut fills my senses. I inhale and walk farther inside, prepared to ask if she’s feeling better.

Slowly creeping past her bed, I catch a glimpse of her laptop.

I do a double-take when I see two tabs open and on full display.

Why is she on the nanny website? The same one I used to find her.

Skipping my gaze over to the other tab, I catch the first line and lose my footing.

I’m writing to inform you of my immediate resignation. I have found several replacement nannies that I know would be a great fit for Rhodes Volkova and his daughter…

My stomach falls to the floor.

I blink through my blurry vision and refocus on the screen.

I reread the email three times before I hear the shower turn off and watch her step out of the tub with a towel wrapped around her.

My pulse thrums angrily, and the scent of coconut instantly pisses me off.

What the hell is this?

I stand mere feet from her bed and wait.

The longer I watch her, the more I feel myself close off.

Like a trap door moving in front of my heart, I smooth the shock from my face and let the resentment replace the unbearable pain drowning me.

The cut digs in deep, and although I only feel it for a quick second, I'm not sure it’ll ever fully heal.

“Rhodes.” My name falls from her lips in a surprised whisper.

My nostrils flare.

Those dreamy brown eyes of hers widen.

My heart pounds in my chest with swift speed.

She shifts her gaze to the laptop resting on her bed, and I flex my jaw.

“What—” I clear my throat because she winces at my tone. “What is this?”

If I wasn’t so angry, I’d be impressed with her ability to remain calm. Months ago, fear would have been obvious as it worked over her features. But she is impressively composed at the moment. It makes me wonder if I made up this entire thing between us.

Was I the only one who believed that we were more than what we were?

How could I let myself get this sucked in?

“I…” She exhales.

I take a step back. I can’t even stand to look at her.

“You wanted to slip into our lives just to leave when things finally became normal?” My tone is anything but kind.

A flash of hurt moves over her face, but she quickly whisks it away. Her arms cross against her towel, and I’m so disoriented that I can’t think straight.

“Normal?” she whispers. “This isn’t normal.”

She’s referring to us.

It may make me less of a man to act desperate, but I make the move to do so anyway.

“You’re right,” I say. “You and I and…this thing between us…we can put a stop to it.”

Anything to make you stay.

A soft, sarcastic breath fills my ears, and I hate that I love the sound of it.

“Do you really believe that, Rhodes?”

“If it makes you delete that email, yes.”

Stay. Please.

I don’t know if I want her to stay for Ellie’s sake or mine.

I think it may be both.

“I can’t.” She won’t meet my eye. “But I have a list of great nannies that will be able to replace me. I know each of them personally and?—”

“I don’t want another fucking nanny!” I shout.

I want you.

She jumps, and her gaze falls to the floor.

I spin and put my back to her.

In the worst way, I want to stalk over to her, grab her by the waist, and press her onto the wall, demanding she explain herself.

It doesn’t make sense.

It’s so sudden.

I don’t understand, but with her proving to be like all the rest, I don’t even want to try to.

I’m not going to stand here in denial and beg her to stay when she clearly doesn’t want to.

She fooled me, and that’s my fault.

Not hers.

“I want you gone first thing in the morning.”

“Rhodes.”

Focusing on the door, I walk over to it like it’s my lifeline . Get me the fuck out of here.

“Can I at least say bye to Ellie? Explain it to her?” she asks.

I turn and glare at her over her shoulder. “Explain what? How you broke your promise?”

Her face falls. “My promise?”

“You promised me you wouldn’t leave her.” I shake my head with disappointment. “And look at you… leaving. ”

That hurt her.

She winces.

It says something that her hurting hurts me, but I pretend it doesn’t.

“I promised you I wouldn’t fall in love with you.” I dig the knife in a little further because it’s the only way I’ll let her go. “Looks like I’m the only one who knows how to keep a promise these days.”

A line of hurt appears in between her eyebrows. I clench my teeth together to keep myself from telling her the truth, because let’s face it. Not loving her is the biggest lie I’ve ever told.

I don’t even want to speak.

Sunny was gone the next morning, her belongings all fitting into the two bags she showed up with. I deleted the footage from the cameras, not trusting myself to keep from watching them over and over again.

Ellie is pretending to be fine, but she’s back to being quiet and reserved.

I hate it.

I hate it because I’m partly to blame.

We got too invested. I trusted myself to let Sunny into our lives. I even allowed her to move in, knowing damn well that she was hard to resist.

I skated the line, crossed the line, and then erased the entire thing altogether.

Now look at me.

Angry, resentful, hurt, and full of guilt.

“I meet the new nanny in a few days, Printsessa. But Marco is going to stay with you until I get back from my games, okay?”

Two away games, back to back. What shitty timing.

Marco is still a little sore from the crash, but he insisted he stay with Ellie to help me out.

Ellie glances at me from her bowl of cereal but says nothing. I see her fiddling with something in her lap. When she goes back to eating, I slowly walk around the island and glance to see what’s in her hand.

My stomach falls.

Shit.

It’s the little clay Pascal figurine that Sunny made her. The little clay trinkets were all over the house, and I quickly threw them into a box and hid them on a top shelf in the garage the day she left. I should have thrown them out, but I didn’t have it in me to do so, and I clearly forgot to get the ones out of Ellie’s room.

“What’s that?” I nod to Ellie’s lap, already knowing what it is.

Her fingers clamp onto it, like she’s afraid I’ll take it.

I hide my emotions and lean against the counter. “Sunny make that for you?”

Ellie lowers her head with a tiny nod.

She’s hurting, and I hate myself for fucking everything up.

I place a tender kiss on top of her head and say nothing. I head upstairs to get our things ready for the next few days.

We’re going through the motions at this point.

Cereal for breakfast, messy house, school drop-offs, rushing to the arena, and a stomach full of stress over the thought of being away from Ellie.

That’s not the only issue either.

I can’t stop thinking about the hurt I saw on Sunny’s face when she decided to leave—like she didn’t want to at all.

But if she didn’t want to, then why did she?