Page 39 of Sleepless Nights and Hockey Fights

“Matthew!” I rush his way and pull him into a hug. “Are you okay?” I sift my fingers through his hair and scan him from head to toe. He looks exactly the same as he did when he boarded the bus this morning, except there’s an orange stain on his T-shirt.Since it matches the one on his lips, I use my remedial detective skills to conclude Bobby bought him a Fanta, his favorite.

“Yeah. I’m good. I also know I’m probably in trouble.” He has the good grace to look sheepish.

“Why did you come down here?” It’s one of the things my eavesdropping didn’t answer.

“Ramona was fussing over me and asking me questions and I was afraid I was going to lose my temper. So, I lied and said I was going to Tyler’s. I just needed a minute to figure some things out, so I came down here.” His eyes drop to his sneakered feet. “I know Bobby called you.”

“Thank goodness he did. I would have been worried sick if I came home and there was no sign of you. Rules are there to keep you safe.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Bobby emerges from an aisle and steps closer. Now that I have more than an obstructed view, I can’t help but take him in. He’s clearly been running his fingers through his hair, leaving it a tousled and very sexy mess. Pair that with the light dusting of scruff on his chin and the form-fitting athletic shirt showcasing his pecs in glorious detail and I find myself a bit breathless.

“All right,” I mutter to my son. “We’ll talk more about this at home. Go hop in the car. I need to talk to Mr. Rhodes for a minute.”

“He says we can call him Bobby.”

“Mr. Rhodes is my dad,” Bobby interjects. “If you met him, you’d understand.”

I decide to leave that one for later and give Matty a gentle nudge. “Okay. Scoot.” As soon as the doors close behind him, I turn back to Bobby and take a deep breath to steady myself. I barely even notice the stale hot dog scent filling the air. “I don’t really know what to say. Thank you for. ..calling me.” I don’twant to let on that I eavesdropped, or I’d certainly thank him for a whole lot more than a phone call.

“No problem. He’s a good kid. And he’s got a decent head on his shoulders. I’ll let him tell you what was going on today.”

I nod, hoping to god he’s right.

“So, uh, I’m headed out of town for the next five days so I’ll be out of your hair.” Bobby rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I figured I should probably let some of your other clients get their fair share of time with you.” His sheepish expression mirrors my son’s so closely I want to laugh.

“Well, if I’m being honest, most of them aren’t quite as fun as you.”

“Oh yeah?” The dimples hit me with a one-two punch.

“Yeah.” My responding smile is impossible to suppress. He’s just so...tempting.

Bobby narrows his eyes and cocks his head to the side. “Interesting.” When he starts stroking his chin between a thumb and forefinger, I roll my eyes. I also start backing away while I’m still ahead.

“Thanks again. I’ll talk to you soon, Bobby.” I turn to the doors, throwing a wave over my shoulder.

“Is that a promise, Sparkle?”

Of course, I don’t respond, but I can hear his laugh all the way to my car and my son.

Chapter Seventeen

Bobby

“What the fuck are you reading?” Alexi “Barzee” Barinov fires at me, kicking my feet where they’re propped on my backpack.

My muffin almost rolls right out of my hand from the impact. I snatch it back, only losing a few crumbs to the floor. “Chill, bro. You almost made me drop my once-a-day sugary treat.”

I snagged the last one from the tray of muffins when I joined the team for breakfast in a private banquet room at our hotel. I was late getting downstairs, mostly because I stayed up after our win last night, texting Molly until my phone hit me in the face and I had to admit defeat to the fatigue in the wee hours of the morning. Made me feel bad for Molly, who seemed to always be awake in those early morning hours. I make a mental note to ask the team trainer about that. Maybe there’s something I can do to help her sleep better.

“Leave him alone. He’s busy sexting some bunny again,” Danny “Dan-O” Bright interjects as he walks by with his trash. Somehow Coach talked him into being my babysitter for the trip and made him room with me like I’m some kind of juvenile thatneeds supervision. I thought he was asleep when I was texting Molly last night.

“Not some bunny,” I snarl at his back.

“Ohhh, boy. Roadie’s angry!” Pete “Forns” Fornier mocks me. He uses his uneaten banana as a gun, keeping it trained on me.

“Fuck off with that thing.” I snap my book shut, convinced I’ll never get back to it with these clowns around. And contrary to what everyone thinks of me, my anger management sessions with Ashley have been going well. I don’t even have the urge to punch Forns in his ugly mug. “I’ll have you know I’m messaging with a very respectable woman. Not a bunny.” I glare at Dan-O as he comes back with napkins for all of us. He’s such a dad.

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