Page 148 of Never In My Wildest Dreams

With everyone watching the competition, Booker was surprised when Cole, Declan, and Jaime closed in on him.

“All right, what’s going on?” Cole, the former forward for the Brawlers and now team owner, crossed his arms over his chest and gave him a challenging look.

“What’re you talking about?” Booker wanted to watch his Hellcat.

“You’ve obviously got a thing for her.” Jaime said, without a trace of residual anger.

Booker appreciated that his old friend was so willing to let it go. He felt bad about the misunderstanding. He should’ve known better. He did know them, and they wouldn’t have blown him off like that. And to find out the three of them hadn’t reconnected until recently…it just made him sad. And, he supposed, this was their chance to fully reconcile.

To do that, he’d need to let them in. “Yeah. I do. We met a couple years ago but only found our way back to each other now.”

“You’re together?” Declan asked.

“You’re with Lorelei Calloway?” Cole sounded surprised.

Jaime laughed. “Fuckin’ Golden Boy. Of course, you’d wind up with a pop superstar.”

He’d forgotten about the nickname they’d given him. They’d thought everything had come easily to him, and maybe back then they were right. It sure didn’t feel that way now. “We have a kid.”

Their smiles flatlined.

“You have akid?” Cole asked.

“Do you mean Stevie?” Declan asked. “She’s yours?”

“Yeah. She’s my daughter.” He didn’t think the guys did it consciously, but they shifted into a semi-circle, shielding him from the others.

“I’m confused,” Declan said. “Stevie’s almost two, and you just found each other again.”

He let them do the math.

Cole’s eyebrows shot up. “You just found out? Holy shit.” He cut Hellcat a look. “She didn’t tell you?”

“We didn’t exchange numbers.”

“But it’s Lorelei Calloway,” Cole said.

“I don’t listen to pop music, and she’d dyed her hair?—”

“She’s a good kid,” Declan interrupted, getting back to the point. “You got this.”

“I’ve got to make some changes, though.” Confiding in them, seeking their advice, came easily, naturally. Like old times. “I can’t work in New York and be a father to a child in Calamity.”

“No, you really can’t,” Jaime said. “It’s the little moments that matter the most. It’s not the big-ass birthday parties I throw for Kinny that make us tight. It’s all the times she gets into bed with me when she has a nightmare. It’s being home after school so she can tell me someone hurt her feelings. You live in New York, you’re not going to get those moments.”

“I’m trying to get my partners to let me work remotely, but so far, they’re not willing to change the terms of our contract.”

“Take over the team, man,” Cole said. “I’m a shit owner.”

“You’re not a shit owner,” Jaime said. “You’re just not as good as I was.”

Cole faked a punch, and Jaime blocked it. “Fucker.”

“We could use the help,” Declan said. “We’ve got deep pockets, but we can’t fill the stadium.”

They all must’ve thought of Kurt, their former coach and owner of the team, at the same moment, because their gazes dropped to the floor. They’d met him when they were kids trespassing on his massive acreage. Thinking they’d never get caught, they’d made a dirt bike course. What harm could it cause? But they didn’t know Kurt walked his property regularly. He kept tabs on every corner.

Instead of calling the police, though, he’d formed a Juniors Hockey team for them. He’d even formed the Renegades in the hopes they’d all play together.

---