Page 124 of A Little Crush
“Go, Daddy, go! Go, Daddy, go!” the little boy chants.
“Go, Lions, go,” I mumble under my breath. My attention drags to Jaxon at the bench. He’s yelling something to theteam, his hands waving through the air and his hair a disheveled mess as if he’s been running his fingers through it for the past hour. I don’t blame him. This game has definitely been a nail-biter.
The score is two to three—Lions down by one—with three minutes to go in the second period.
One of the Lions’ defenders slaps the puck across the blue line to Crowther, who chips the puck off the board before taking a brutal hit from an opponent. My cringe only lasts two seconds until I’m distracted by Reeves deking left, then darting right around another player as he races for the puck and slaps it toward a waiting Everett, who passes it right back. Around the net Reeves moves, his skates cutting through the ice as my focus slips back to Jaxon. I can’t help it. Hell, I’ve been doing it the whole game.
To be fair, even before we started sleeping together, I was more fascinated by Jaxon’s reactions than anyone else’s on the ice. He’s always been more interesting than the players. More intense. More invested. And that was before. When he actually played instead of coached. Now that he’s the one making decisions and commanding his team, it’s even hotter. Not sure how it’s possible, but it is. My lips part as he paces the bench below, drawing a large circle with his index finger through the air as if to say,wrap it up, wrap it up! Let’s go!
After a quick pass to Everett, Reeves twists around, racing around a defender to the opposite side of the net where Everett passes it back. The black biscuit cuts across the glassy surface so fast it’s hard to keep an eye on it. Hell, it’s like a bullet. Winding up, Reeves slaps it toward the corner of the net, and Dylan squeals in excitement. I don’t look to see if he makes the shot, though. I’m too distracted by Jaxon’s intensity as he watches from the sidelines. Seriously. What is it about men commanding a group like this? I fight the urge tofan myself while the red siren blares, and my family goes wild.
It must’ve gone in.
“Woo-hoo!” my mom calls. “That’s how the Lions do it!”
“PS, amazing assist,” Aunt Kate adds as Jaxon wrangles in the team, urging them back to the bench so he can go over the next play.
“What can I say? My husband’s hot,” Raine quips beside her. “And so is yours, Dylan. Reeves is killing it tonight.”
“I know, huh.” She shifts Parker to her opposite hip. “Daddy did so good.”
“Go, Daddy, go!”
With a grin, Dylan rests her forehead against her little boy’s and joins in on his chanting. “Go, Daddy, go. Go, Daddy, go!”
My mom bumps her shoulder with mine. “See how much fun this is?”
I peer up at her and smile. “I think you forget I travel with the team every other week.”
“Good point.” She loops her arm around my waist and tugs me into her side. “Still. I’ve missed this. Having you here. Watching you cheer on your team. You used to come to every game.”
She’s right, I did. We all did. Thanks to my dad owning the Lions, and Mav’s and Archer’s obsession with hockey, it was an almost daily event. Whether it was peewee or professional, there was always a game, and I was always dragged along to watch. I didn’t mind it, though. Actually, I loved it. The cool air. The face paint. The cow bells. The brawls. The memories.
“I’ve missed it, too,” I tell her. “It’s been fun coming to more games this season.”
“It has,” she agrees. “Seems like Jaxon’s finally settling into his role, too.”
“Mm-hmm.” I fight the urge to check him out for the thousandth time, afraid my mom will see right through me. Or maybe she already has. Is that why she’s bringing him up? Because she caught me staring like I used to when I was a kid and Jaxon was playing instead of coaching?
“Don’t you think, Ash?” my mom prods.
I peek up, finding Aunt Ashlyn on my mom’s opposite side. I should be grateful she’s here to distract my mom from digging too much, but her presence only adds fuel to the fire. Quietly dating someone’s son is one thing. Quietly dating someone’s son when they’ve known you forever and can read you almost as easily as your own mom can? Yeah…that’s a bigger issue.
Act. Normal,I silently remind myself. Seriously, with how many times I’ve had to remind myself of those two simple words since I started sleeping with Jaxon, I might as well have them stamped on my forehead.
Aunt Ash nods. “Yeah, I think Jaxon’s finally finding a rhythm with the team.” She presses her hand to her heart. “That first game killed me, though.”
“Me, too,” my mom agrees. “It was rough.”
“Right?” Leaning around my mom, Aunt Ash asks, “What do you think, Rore?”
“M-me?” I point to my chest, feeling like a floundering baby duckling. What do I think? Why would Aunt Ash care what I think? Am I that obvious? Did she see me staring at her son like a lovesick puppy? Or am I jumping to conclusions, and I’ve been hiding it like a champ? And why is she still looking at me like this? Shouldn’t she be watching the game or something?
“Yeah,” Aunt Ash says. “You’re around Jax more than any of us. How do you think he’s doing?”
How does she know I’m around Jax more than any of them? Oh, wait. Because it’s my job. Right.
Unsure what to say, I tuck my hair behind my ear and try to, you know, act normal. “I think he’s…good?”
