Page 25 of Breakaway Daddies

When another puck zips past the goalie, striking the back of the net with a resounding ping, Walker’s patience snaps. He blows his whistle with a piercing shrillness that cuts through the rink’s chill.

“Enough!” his voice booms, echoing off the ice. “You call that a practice? That was a free shot, and you let it walk in!”

The players groan, their shoulders slumping as they shuffle back into their positions, their skates scraping reluctantly against the ice. I shake my head, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. It’s painfully clear the team is missing Rowan.

His commanding presence in the crease, his aggressive play style that inspired confidence, his uncanny ability to orchestrate the defense… Without him, the whole team feels like an incomplete puzzle, missing its key piece.

I’m so engrossed in the chaotic scene on the ice, where players stumble over pucks and misfire passes, that I don’t even notice Kenzie until she nudges my side with her elbow.

“Hey,” she greets, clutching a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, her eyes following the puck as it glides down the ice. “How’s Rowan doing?”

I let out a long sigh, raking a hand through my tangled hair. “Physically? He’s doing okay, just taking it slow. But mentally?” I shake my head. “Not great. He keeps talking about going back home to Montana. I think he’s ready to just quit.”

Kenzie frowns, her brow furrowed with concern. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious,” I reply, frustrated. “He’s convinced himself it’s not worth the fight. That his family was right, and he should just take over the ranch instead.”

Kenzie takes a thoughtful sip of her coffee, her gaze fixed on the ice as another goal slips past the backup goalie, who throws up his hands in exasperation. “Damn,” she mutters under her breath. “That’s… not what I expected from him.”

“Yeah, me neither,” I admit, staring at the ice where Rowan’s absence feels like a shadow.

For a guy as competitive and driven as Rowan, giving up isn’t something that should even be in his vocabulary. But injuries mess with a player’s head more than anything. If he doesn’t believe he’ll come back strong, he simply won’t.

Kenzie and I stand side by side, the chill of the arena nipping at our cheeks as we silently observe the skaters. They glide back and forth, jaws set in determination. Frustration is a palpable aura around them, each failed trick punctuated by a sharp intake of breath or a muttered curse.

The words tumble out of my mouth before I can reconsider. “I’m moving in with them.”

Kenzie swivels her head towards me, one eyebrow arching upward in surprise. “Wait, what?”

I inhale deeply, the crisp air filling my lungs. “Just for a while. To keep Rowan on track with his physical therapy.” My voice wavers slightly, betraying the uncertainty I feel.

Her gaze tests me as a teasing glimmer dances in her eyes. “Uh-huh. And that’s all you’re gonna be doing?”

My face flushes with warmth, and I roll my eyes, trying to dismiss the implication. “It’s not like that,” I lie, the memory of Rowan, Thomas and Bruno still sending a shiver down my spine.

Kenzie sips her coffee, the steam curling upwards, and hums with a knowing smile. “Mmhmm.”

I shift my weight from one foot to the other, the unease knotting in my stomach. Why did I even mention it?

Maybe I was hoping for some kind of cautionary tale or a disapproving shake of her head. But instead, she just watches me, her eyes expectant.

“I dunno,” I mutter, staring at the ground. “It’s just… I’ve never lived with guys before. Hockey guys. It’s probably gonna be chaos.”

Kenzie’s lips twist into a small smile as she nudges me playfully. “Yeah, but chaos can be fun.” She lowers her voice to a playful whisper. “So… Have you already, y’know… sampled the milk without buying the cow?”

I snort, a laugh escaping as I cover my face with my hand to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. “Maybe.”

Kenzie throws her head back and cackles, her laughter reverberating off the walls of the hallway we’ve stepped into. “Oh my god. Jinx!”

“What? Don’t look at me like that! It was just a thing, it’s not—” I protest, trying to sound nonchalant.

Kenzie waves her hand dismissively, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Save it. I know exactly how these things start.”

I roll my eyes, but the grin spreading across my face betrays my attempt at indifference.

Kenzie leans in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, all I’ll say is… make the most of the ‘opportunity.’”

I snicker, nodding. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

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