Page 114 of Ice Princess

“Why was your teacher asking for me?” Renthrow asks, as clueless as a newb on his first play. “Did you get in trouble at school, pumpkin?”

“No.” She giggles. “Miss Candice always asks about you. I think she likes you, daddy.”

Ooohsbreak out next.

Twin circles of red flush across Renthrow’s face and he mumbles, “I should have used the stupid headphones.”

“Gordie!” Someone calls from the background.

“Gotta go, daddy. We’re baking brownies.”

“Save one for me!” Theilan yells.

“I’ll see you soon, pumpkin,” Renthrow says and then he ends the call.

A wolf whistle erupts from the back of the bus.

Theilan’s voice rings with mischief. “Candice Pott? What does she see in the likes of you, Renthrow?”

“Maybe it’s like Beauty and the Beast?” Watson teases.

“Must be,” Theilan agrees, laughing loudly.

I think of the slim, cheerful kindergarten teacher. She’s the polar opposite of Renthrow who’s on the gruff, quiet side. However, what matters is that Candice is good with kids.

Renthrow ignores the commotion about his love life, and eventually, the bus quiets down. Theilan, especially, only pokes at people who give him a response and Renthrow’s perfected the art of acting like he doesn’t care.

The bus chugs to a stop in front of the arena.

Bobby swings around from the driver’s seat, a smile etched into his dark face. “Alright, fellas. This is your stop. Make sure to swing by The Tipsy Tuna sometime today. Mauve’s got a welcome home drink, courtesy of us.”

The team cheers.

I smile and nod my thanks.

Max gets up next. He claps his hands together to bring us to attention. “Alright, guys. We got some decent momentum going, but we’re still a few points short. This last game will determine whether we make it to the finals. So there will be no slacking off. I expect everyone…”

“…at morning practice five am tomorrow,” the team finishes for him.

Max’s mouth flicks up in a grin. “Exactly.”

We dismount the bus.

Renthrow takes off to his truck, speeding to see his little girl.

Theilan and Watson head straight to the Tuna to soak in the local praise and grab some drinks.

“You want a ride?” Max offers me, pointing to his truck.

Chance passes us at that moment, his phone glued to his ear. “I’m back, Tink. Are you at the garage? I’m coming over.” He sees me watching and lifts a hand. “See you later, guys.”

Is Chance going to the garage?

I picture Rebel working in her pink jumper, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and her blue eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Gunner?” Max says. “Car’s this way.”

“We’re not going in the same direction,” I mumble to Max and then I take off after Chance.

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