Page 31 of Rookie Season
But not anymore.
Paige, Laini and Harlow gasp and smile, looking at Ally and me.
“Miss Ally, is my Uncle Noah one of your roommates?” Paige asks, clearly excited about this.
Ally nods. “The loft has four rooms, and I rent one of them.”
“Have you used the hot tub?” Harlow asks.
Ally smiles. “I haven’t yet; is it nice?”
“So nice!” Laini breaks in. “Fishy let me use my arm floaties.”
“Fisher,” I gently correct.
Mitch snickers. “Fishy. I’m going to start calling him that. Kid needs to bring his ego down a notch.”
Ally laughs at that. “You have no idea,” she says. “But he’s got a good heart.”
Swiveling my head, I study her. I still don’t understand the dynamic between her and Fisher, but the comment makes my chest feel tight. It’s probably just curiosity.Definitelynot jealousy.
“What’s it like living with three smelly hockey players?” Andie asks before taking a bite of her burger.
“Well, two of them are really friendly, but one of them ignores me most of the time,” Ally replies with a smirk.
Andie narrows her eyes at me, and I don’t bother holding back my eye roll this time.
Ally chuckles. “But as much as I like my roommates, sometimes I prefer to hang out in my room with Harry Styles.”
Paige’s jaw drops. “You know Harry Styles?”
Ally winks at her, and it does something weird to my stomach. “Harry Styles—officially Harry Styles the third—is my cat.”
My nieces go wild.
Harlow’s little hands fist in the air. “Oh my gosh! A kitty! I want to meet him!”
“I get to meet him first; I’m older,” Laini tells her.
“Only one year older!” Harlow defends herself.
“Calm down girls,” Mitch says in his gruff, dad voice. These little girls have him wrapped around their fingers, but he tries not to let it show. “I’m sure you can all meet the cat sometime.”
Ally leans in, cupping her hands over her mouth like she’s telling a secret. My nieces instantly quiet down to listen, all three of them enamored by her. “Harry Styles sleeps with your Uncle Noah every night.”
My sister’s head falls back as she’s overcome with laughter. Mitch chokes on his burger and pounds at his chest, coughing a few times before taking a gulp of his water.
Paige eyes me. “Really?”
“He won’t stay out of my room,” I admit, then bite a large chunk out of my burger so I don’t have to partake in this conversation any longer.
After Ally answers a million more questions from the girls about Harry Styles, we’re all finished eating, and I’m ready to get home. If Ally is here, I’ll go home and lock myself in my room. I help clear the table, and notice Ally jumps in to assist. I admire that she’s always willing to lend a helping hand. She’s clearly not a spoiled brat, even though her dad has won three Oscars. As I load the dinner plates into the dishwasher, I wonder if Ally has ever been treated differently because of who her father is.
Has she ever been called a nepo baby?
When I’m finished with the dishes, I stride back into the living room where the girls are seated and watching a movie about princesses. Mitch is in the center, with Paige and Laini nestled into his sides and Harlow on his lap. One of the girls has placed a tiara atop his head.
I don’t laugh. He’s still my coach, and I’m not about to piss him off and end up with extra drills during practice tomorrow.
