Page 158 of The Overtime Kiss

And fuck, it’s hard.

They’ve only ever known me with their mom. Since the divorce, I’ve been decidedly single. They’ve been introduced to exactly no one.

Do we just skip ahead and say,Hey, we live together now?And then I move her upstairs?

I really need to talk to Sabrina. Tomorrow, I’ve got morning skate, and then a game in the afternoon. Maybe we’ll have the talk tonight, after the kids go to bed.

Yeah. That’s a good plan. Because all thesealmostsare getting hard to manage. Pretty soon, I’ll loop an arm aroundher in front of them without thinking—and that’s not the way for them to find out.

But Corbin’s words keep pressing on my brain.“Have you thought about what that looks like for you?”

I need to figure out what this looks like for all of us.

I put those thoughts aside when we swing by Little Friends and pick up our newest foster—a calico named Olive. Sabrina holds the carrier in her lap the rest of the way home, peeking inside as the kitten lets out a soft meow.

“She’s perfect,” Luna whispers from the backseat.

Parker nods solemnly. “I think she likes us already.”

Sabrina laughs. “I bet she does.”

By the time we pull into the driveway, the kids are plotting how to introduce Olive to her new temporary home and debating when she’ll use Drama’s cat tower. They race ahead as I grab the bag of kitten supplies from the backseat.

Once inside, Sabrina heads for her apartment and unlocks the door. “Oh my god. Maybe I didn’t leave the heater on,” Sabrina gasps, her teeth chattering. “It’s freezing in here.” Sabrina hugs herself.

“The cat can’t stay there then,” Luna announces.

“Sabrina can’t either,” Parker points out.

“Obviously,” Luna says dryly.

“It’s notdangerouslyfreezing. Just, like, fifty degrees,” Sabrina says.

Which is stillwaytoo cold for a home.

I check the thermostat. Adjust it. Check it again. Fiddle with the Nest.

Twenty minutes later, her place is still an icebox. I call the repair place, and they say they’ll come in the morning.

“Sabrina, you’ll have to sleep upstairs with Olive,” Luna announces, then wiggles her brows. “Slumber party in the living room!”

“Can we?” Parker asks, clearly already planning the movieand popcorn situation like he did the last time we had one. We’ve got a massive couch with ottomans that slide into the middle, turning it into an even bigger bed.

“Does that work for you and Olive?” I ask Sabrina.

She grins. “All I have to say is…we’d better get in jammies now!”

So, nobig talktonight.

Instead, we’re all bundled under blankets in the living room, with a new foster cat exploring the home, watchingFrozenfor what has to be the fiftieth time.

And as Anna arrives at the ice palace, I decide I’ll talk to my mom, my sister and my brother as soon as possible. Yeah. That’s it. They can help me figure this out.

I send them a text, and somewhere between Kristoff grumbling about ice sales and Olaf singing about summer, I drift off under the covers, with my kids sandwiched between me and Sabrina.

In the morning, I wake up to—what the hell?

Is that a carrot hanging around my neck?

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