Page 29 of Skate the Line

Winding back, I shoot a puck toward Emory and wait for him to snap angrily at me, considering he wasn’t even paying attention.

To my surprise, he catches it at the last second and drops it to the ice.

“What the fuck was that for?” he asks, pulling his mask down.

I send another puck flying toward him and then another.

When I run out of pucks, he skates toward me in all his gear and angrily whips his mask up. “Feel better?”

“No!” I shout. “Kane pissed me off.”

Emory chuckles. “He pisses everyone off.”

I stare out into the empty stands, and before I can stop myself, I’m asking Emory for advice.

“Is it wrong of me to require my nanny to sign something that says she won't engage in any sexual relationships with anyone on the team?”

Emory blinks at me.

I blink back and wait for his answer.

There isn’t an ounce of amusement on his face when he squints. “I’m sorry. Are you asking me for righteous advice? Do you recall my…fake marriage?”

He has a point. What the fuck am I doing asking for advice? I don’t ask for advice.

He elbows me with his thick pad and nods past my shoulder. Coach walks onto the rink, which means we’re about to start running plays.

Before we split, Emory pulls his mask down and answers me. “Maybe get to know her and see if she’s the type that would fuckyour teammates before you start assuming.” He sighs. “Take it from me…never assume.”

I turn and skate toward center ice.

It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get to know her a little.

After all, she’s taking care of my daughter.

Thirteen

SUNNY

Ellie is hard to crack.

She doesn’t demand my attention but doesn’t discourage it either. I’ve been her nanny for one week, and although I’ve gotten her to laugh and smile multiple times, she isn’t openly comfortable around me yet.

I suspect there is a lot of pent-up anger inside of her. Or fear? Abandonment? Maybe all of the above.

She watches me closely. If I leave the room, her green eyes follow me, like she thinks I might disappear, but she never asks where I’m going.

“This is a record, you know.” A deep voice says.

I spring away from leaning against the kitchen island and spin to meet my new boss, whom I’ve really hardly spoken to since being hired.

How can someone so large be so quiet?

Like always, he smells decadent. Each time he comes home from his second practice of the day, he’s freshly showered with damp hair and a clean, manly scent lingering behind him. It’s hard not to notice.

“What’s a record?” I ask, gathering my things.

Rhodes leans against the cabinets and crosses his arms over his black hoodie. He stares past me at Ellie, who's putting birdseed into the new feeder that Marco gifted to her.

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