Page 23 of One Pucking Life

On the drive, I can’t stop thinking about Delaney—how, in less than twenty-four hours, she’s somehow taken charge of my house and my kid with more confidence than I’ve had in weeks.

I should probably feel annoyed by the way she told me what to do.

But I don’t.

In fact, I kind of loved it.

There’s something about her—her steadiness, her calm, her confidence—that makes me feel like, maybe for the first time, Caroline and I are actually going to be okay.

And yeah... that bossy side of her is sexy as hell.

CHAPTER

TEN

MAX

By the time I step through the front door, the house is quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes you instinctively lower your voice and tread softly.

I toe off my sneakers and shrug out of my jacket. Glancing around, I spot a blue sticky note on the foyer mirror that says:

Fire Station.

Furrowing my brow, I take in the words again, Fire Station written in neat, bubbly cursive letters.

Pulling the note from the mirror, I head toward the living room. The lights are low and warm, and the space is almost silent.

I’m dead on my feet. My legs ache, my back’s tight, and the pain in my shoulders is the kind of deep soreness that lets me know I left everything on the ice. Coach didn’t take it easy on me today, and I hadn’t expected him to. I showed up late, after all. With my starting position on the line, every second counts.Every drill, every shot on goal, every hit—I pushed harder than I have in weeks. I stayed later than the others, trying to make up for the practices I missed, hitting the weights afterward.

Trying to prove I still want this.

But even as I gave it everything I had, there was this tight coil in my chest—because I knew the longer I stayed, the more likely I would miss bedtime. And now, here I am. Too late.

Delaney is on the couch, curled up with a blanket over her legs and a mug in her hands. Her hair’s still in a messy bun. She’s wearing an oversized gray sweatshirt.

She looks up when she hears me and offers a warm, sleepy smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I say back, my voice low. “Sorry I’m late.”

She sets the mug on the coffee table and tugs the blanket aside. “You look exhausted.”

I cross the room and sink down on the other end of the sofa, letting out a long sigh as I melt into the cushions. “That obvious, huh?”

“A little,” she says, grinning. “Rough day?”

I nod. “I stayed late. Needed to show Coach I’m back and serious.”

She doesn’t say anything for a second, just looks at me in that way she does—like she actually sees me. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think it’s admirable. Wanting to show up for both things, even when it’s hard.”

Her gaze drops to my hand, reminding me of the note. I hold it up and shake it. “Heading out to go drinking or what?” I grin.

Her eyebrows squish together. “Um, no.”

“So what’s with the note?”

“It’s just a reminder to sneak out sometime when you’re here tomorrow to get the new car seat checked. Oh, I used your card to buy a new car seat, by the way. I hope that’s okay. Irealized after you left today that you didn’t leave one. In case of emergency, I really should have one in my car, too, you know.”

I shake my head. “Wait. What? How did you get my credit card?”

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