Page 9 of The Nanny Goal

Mom forgot to mention that Forrest has an intensely hot new best friend who doesn’t speak a lot of English, but is fluent in eye-fucking.

The hot goalie is off-limits, Emery Granger. He isnotsex on a stick for you to lick.

Would my family notice if I snuck off to the bathroom and gave my V-card to my brother’s teammate?

Coming from a family of pro-hockey players and playing at an elite level myself, I have to say that athletic bodies don’t usually impress me.

But the Calgary backup goalie is stunning. Taller than everyone in my family, and broad but not thick. His wingspan is incredible, like his arms go on forever, and his shoulders…

A girl could sit on those shoulders with ease. Maybe rub myself against his face…

I look up at the ceiling, my cheeks heating up. I have never in my entire life had an explicit face-sitting fantasy about anyone, let alone a stranger sitting across from me while my family discusses the wild card spots for the playoffs.

Our food arrives, which helps me re-centre myself and regain control over my body. In the hierarchy of things I care about, hockey is at the top, followed by food, family, school, music, working out in general, fashion, andwayat the bottom, sex. So it should be easier than it is to ignore my reaction to Alexei.

I threw a bit of a tantrum until my mom let me pick the restaurant, which is more foodie than my brothers usually like, but the steak here is well-rated. They got their steaks, and I have a really amazing scallop dish with asparagus done four ways—foamed, gelled, pickled…and frozen in an unexpected sorbet, which I’m instructed to eat first, to set the stage for the rest of this course.

If the hockey thing doesn’t work out for me, and women’s hockey has a way of not working out, I might go to culinary school so I can learn how to make asparagus ice cream thatdelightson the palette.

“Mmmm,” I say, savouring the bright, grassy flavour. “Oh, wow.”

“It’s good?” From across the table, Alexei is staring at my mouth intently. A ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lush, elegant mouth. “It sounds good.”

I lick my lips and wink at him. “It’s delicious. You have to like asparagus, probably, but it’s fun.”

“Fun?” He waves down the waiter and points at my plate. “I want that, too.”

Beside him, Forrest chokes on his first bite of steak. “Man, no,” he tries to intervene. “It’sasparagus.” He gestures at the pickled slices draped perfectly over my scallops. “Look. Green shit. You don’t like green shit.”

Alexei frowns. “I don’t likesalad. She says it’s good. You heard her.”

Forrest narrows his eyes at me. “Oh, I heard her. She’s a shit disturber.”

“What doesshit disturbermean?”

“She’s tricking you.” My brother changes his voice to sound like Admiral Ackbar from Star Wars. “It's a trap.”

“Oooh.” Alexei looks back at me. “You try to trick me?”

“No trick,” I say with a straight face. “But yes, vegetable.”

He shrugs. “I still try. I like the way you sound when you eat it.”

Someone really should tell him it’s indecent to say things like that out loud. But I’m not going to, because I’m enjoying how uncomfortable my brothers are right now. When you’re the youngest of five and your four older brothers are all pro hockey players, it’s not that often you get to shock them.

I let my gaze linger on Alexei’s interestingly stoic face as I lazily say, “Yeah, Forrest. He likes the way I sound when I eat it.”

“Emery Granger,” my mother says.

Connor coughs and changes the subject to the hotel his team is staying in ahead of tomorrow’s game. Not the same place we’re staying at, and he’s wondering how the amenities compare. Mindless bullshit I couldn’t care less about.

Alexei watches me lick a bit of asparagus foam off my spoon, something flickering deep in his otherwise serious gaze, and I smile.

* * *

“Emery! Wait!”

I turn around just short of the entrance to the hotel I’m staying at with my parents.

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