Page 11 of Resist

Given the bulges in Slade’s jacket, Coulton guessed the boy had taken some of those free treats for the road.

“I appreciate you keeping an eye on him.” Coulton placed his hand on Slade’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him down, because the kid was hopping around like he had snakes in his pants. “We’ve been trying to get Slade to a game for ages, but we never found a way to make it work with his aunt or cousin’s schedules.”

“We had a lot of fun,” McKenna said. “And we got some awesome shots to use on our socials. Slade is a natural in front of the camera.”

Slade grinned over his shoulder at Coulton, delighted by her compliment. “Anaaatural,” the kid repeated, drawing the word out for effect. Coulton laughed.

“Thanks again, McKenna,” Coulton said, giving Slade a pointed look that he understood.

“Yeah, thank you, Mac,” the boy added. Apparently, he’d given McKenna a nickname. “I had a lot of fun. And I can come to another game if you need more pictures.”

McKenna laughed. “I’ll let you know.”

“You ready to head out?” Coulton asked the boy.

Slade groaned. “Do we have to go home? I’m not tired.”

Coulton ruffled the boy’s hair. “Youmight not be, but I just played hockey for sixty minutes, then tacked on a postgame workout. I’m looking forward to chilling.” He figured it wasn’t lying if he did his chilling over a cold one at Mick’s Tavern.

“Okay,” Slade said sadly, shoulders slouching.

“Besides, tomorrow is a school day, and your aunt said you still had some homework to do.”

Slade grimaced. “Yeah, but that’s not fun.”

Coulton swung his arm over Slade’s shoulders as they walked out of the arena. “I think you’ve had plenty of fun today.” Then he poked one of Slade’s pockets, the crinkle proving his suspicions. “You going to share those treats with your cousins?”

“Do I have to?”

Coulton chuckled. “Might be a nice thing to do, since they didn’t get to come.” Coulton was bound and determined to get Slade’s whole family to a game, but given how many hours Barbara and Jerome worked, it was tough.

“Okay,” Slade groused, in a tone that said he wasn’t happy about sharing his booty.

They climbed into Coulton’s truck, the conversation on the trip from the arena to Cherry Hill one-sided as Slade replayed every single second of the day for him. Coulton had hoped the effects of the sugar would start to wear off by the time they reached Slade’s apartment building, but no such luck. The boy was still wired for sound.

“You coming up?” Slade asked, as they climbed out of the truck and trudged up the stairs to the family’s apartment.

“Yeah, but I’m not coming in. Just going to knock on the door and then run like hell, because your aunt isn’t going to be happy with either of us when she hears how much junk food you ate.”

Slade cracked up. “Run like hell,” he repeated.

Coulton shot him a look for cussing—not that it would do any good. Slade’s colorful vocabulary was something they’d talked about a lot in the first couple of months they were together. Mainly because the then ten-year-old was dropping the F-bomb into every sentence like a damn comma.

“We’re home,” Slade announced as he walked inside.

Jerome was standing near the door, sliding on a jacket. “Hey, little man. How was the game?”

“Great! We won,” Slade proclaimed in such a way it sounded as if he’d been on the ice with the team. He took a few minutes to catch Jerome and his other cousins up on the day’s events. Then he reached into his pockets and withdrew a candy store’s worth of sweets.

Jesus, Coulton thought. He might have to slip into the team box at some point this week to replenish.

He grinned as Slade and his cousins divvied up the goods, acting like Halloween had come early this year.

“Mom is getting a quick shower,” Jerome said. “I was just about to head out to hang with some buddies.”

“I’ll walk down with you.” Coulton said goodbye to Slade, then he and Jerome trudged down the three flights of stairs, stepping outside into the chilly fall evening. The sun was setting low over the horizon.

“Gonna play video games at my friend Malcolm’s place,” Jerome said. “If you wanna come.”

---