Page 33 of Cross-Checked

“Ronan, please,” I say.

“Okay,” Nicholas says with a slight laugh as he drops my hand. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“McCabe is a hockey thing.” In the hockey world, everyone calls me by my last name as if it were my first name, so it’s always weird to hear someone call me Mr. McCabe. And honestly, I prefer it when people use my first name...I don’t even know how it happened that I became just “McCabe,” but I never fought it, so it’s just kind of stuck.

“Noted,” he says, and the clip of his voice reminds me of AJ’s all-business tone.

“Come on in.” I invite them into the entryway, shutting the door behind them. “Living room’s that way.” I gesture past the kitchen, and both he and AJ laugh.

“We know,” she says. “Your place is a mirror image of mine.”

“Good to know,” I say, following them into my condo and trying to convince myself to stop staring at the way her ass looks in those leggings. The last thing I need is a hard-on while talking to her brother about watching my daughter.

I’m starting to wonder why I can’t control the way my body reacts to hers. I’ve always been attracted to her, but it was never like this—the physical pull toward her whenever she’s around, this fuckingyearning. It’s like long-buried feelings are resurfacing. Now that she’s no longer married and my reasonsfor hating her are mostly invalidated, it’s harder to resist her than it ever was before.

I sit across from AJ, far enough that I hope my body will stop reacting to hers. But watching her play with Abby, bouncing her up and down on her knees while holding her hands and quietly singing a nursery rhyme, is doing something entirely different to me. I don’t even know how to explain what exactly it is, but it has my heart feeling like it’s turning to goo right inside my rib cage.

Fuck, no.She’s my boss—a fact I’ve had to keep reminding myself of over the last twenty-four hours, but I just can’t seem to make that fact matter as much as it should.

Nicholas and I chat for a while about his experience with kids, what he’s studying in college, whether he can really commit to this position for the next week or month, depending on how we do. He’s easy to get along with and seems just as reliable as AJ said he’d be.

Most importantly, Abby seems drawn to him in a way she never was with Lucy. His voice is soothing, and eventually Abby crawls from AJ’s lap over to Nicholas’s. I’m shocked at how easily he can carry on a conversation with me while also playing with her, making her feel comfortable and cared for. It’s a skill I don’t think I’ve mastered. I never feel like I can do anything else when I’m with Abby, and I feel guilty if I give her anything less than my full attention. But he’s a natural at balancing everything, much like his sister yesterday in her office after Abby’s record-breaking diaper change.

“Has AJ already shared with you the schedule for this round of playoffs?” I ask.

“Yes, and the morning skate schedule for the home games. There’s nothing that I couldn’t cover, except for tonight’s game. My girlfriend Nicole has a tenuous relationship with her mom, and she’s in town right now...staying with us. We’re taking her down to Newport for dinner tonight as soon as Nic’s off work,and I can’t cancel on her—both because she doesn’t drive, and also because I just can’t leave her and her mom alone together for that long without some sort of huge relationship-ending fight,” he tells me, and I can’t imagine why she’d want to have a relationship with her mom if things are actually that bad. “But her mom will be gone by the time you leave for your away games in a few days, and if you have anything you need to do before you leave, I can be around to watch Abby for whatever times you need during the day.”

“Okay.” I explain my commitments coming up over the next few days, and then sit back in my chair, looking over at AJ. “I still don’t know what I’m going to do about tonight. Tammy can’t watch her, and Walsh has a call in to his nanny to see if she knows anyone who could babysit, but if she doesn’t, I’m fresh out of options.”

AJ glances down at her phone. “It’s fine, I can take her.”

“I wasn’t asking you to do that,” I say, even though I know I probably don’t have any other options.

“It’s fine. Lauren can help me out if I need it, and Abby will probably just sleep on me most of the game anyway.”

“AJ, you can’t do that again. Once was enough...The optics are just not?—”

“I don’t give a shit what the optics are, McCabe. I need you to play. In exchange for me watching Abby, feel free to score a hat trick tonight.” Her lips curve up at the edges as she nods her chin at me. “It’s been a while.”

Part of me is tempted to tell her I’d be more inclined to score if she’d renew my fucking contract, but the other part of me knows that kind of sarcastic remark is both uncalled for, and just not true.

Plus, I don’t want her to renew my contract. I want to become a free agent so that Nashville can pick me up and I can move closer to my sister and nieces. Don’t I?

There are only two minutes left in the third period when I score my second goal of the night, and before my teammates surround me in celebration, my eyes fly up to exactly where I know AJ is sitting, right next to Lauren, six rows behind the bench.

She’s got one arm wrapped protectively around Abby as she stands up from her seat in excitement, and her other arm in the air, her fist curled triumphantly. Her smile is wide as we lock eyes, and she mouths, “Good job!” before Lauren takes her hand mid-air and AJ turns toward her.

Walsh is the first one to crash into me where I’ve come to a stop at the boards near our bench, but he’s followed closely behind by Drew—our line is on fire tonight and we’re completely dominating this game against Philadelphia.

Some angry shouts in the stands quickly drown out the noise from the cheering, and all three of us turn our heads toward the ruckus. From the ice, I can see that a few Boston fans in the row behind AJ, and Philly fans in the row in front of her, are hurling insults at each other. AJ keeps her arm wrapped around Abby as she turns and looks up, shouting something at the Boston fans behind her while Jameson moves down the row, trying to position himself between the two groups and protect AJ and Lauren. But he doesn’t get there in time, and I watch in horror as one of the Boston fans leans down to push one of the Philly fans, but his shoulder connects with AJ, and she goes toppling over backward with my daughter attached to her.

My stomach drops and I don’t think, I just react. I skate to the glass in front of them as quickly as I can, banging on the glass to get their attention. “Hey!” I yell, my voice so loud the fans inthe first few rows go silent. “Fucking stop this shit right now!” The security guards moving down the aisle toward them catch my eye, and I flag them down. “Help AJ first,” I call out. “She has my daughter!”

I watch helplessly from the other side of the glass as three security guards reach the row, one of them holding the Boston fans back and the two others helping AJ up. It looks like she fell backward, landing on the seats two rows down, and as the security guards get her back up on her feet, it’s clear she’s injured. Abby is screaming, but it’s impossible to tell if she’s in pain or if it’s because she was jolted awake while falling.

I rush over to the bench, hopping the boards and striding straight down the row. “I’m out for the rest of the game,” I tell Wilcott as I move past him. “And if AJ or Abby got hurt just now, heads are gonna fucking roll.”

With my heart racing, I don’t stop to listen to his response. I just run into the tunnel, trying to figure out where security will take them. They’re probably on the next level up, so I step into the elevator, and as I ride it up to the Club Level, I glance down at my stick still in my hand and my skates still on my feet.

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