Page 7 of Rookie Season
She’s stunning. Maybe I should’ve taken dance as a kid instead of hockey.
I snort a laugh to myself at the thought. Dance? I’m definitely not graceful enough for that. Although, arguably, neither are my nieces. Mitch keeps trying, and failing, to convince Andie to put the three girls in youth hockey instead of dance.
Paige looks up and spots me. Her face is the much cuter version of my brother-in-law’s as she gives me a glare to tell me she’s not pleased with me being late. “There you are!” she exclaims.
Paige has her father’s features with hazel eyes and dark hair. She also has more of his personality than her two younger sisters, Laini and Harlow. She’s intense and focused. But she’s much less grouchy than Mitch Anderson is.
She stands and runs toward me, hugging me around the legs as tightly as a seven-year-old can. I grin at her, flipping her ponytail with my hand.
The blonde woman walks toward us, her expression miffed. Even with her face scrunched up in annoyance, she’s cute. More than cute, actually. She’s one of the more attractive women I’ve seen in a long time.
She stops in front of me and crosses her arms. “Mr. Anderson, I’m not sure you’re aware, but we have a policyfor late pickups. If you could pick up more promptly next time, we’d really appreciate it.”
Oh yeah, she’s definitely annoyed.
“I’m really sorry it’s so late; but I’m not?—”
She waves a slender hand dismissively. “It’s fine,” she says in this brusque tone that suggests it's not fine at all. “But I need to get going.” The woman smiles at Paige. “See you next week, sweetheart.” She offers my niece a kind smile, then turns back to me. Her smile falls.
I try one more time to explain the situation. “This isn’t a usual occurrence. You see, my brother-in-law got stuck in traffic, so?—”
The woman sighs. “Mr. Anderson, there’s no need to explain. Just please be on time next week.”
She gives me a curt nod and spins on her heel, quickly crossing the room.
“What the hell was that?” I mutter to myself, watching as the tightly-wound dance teacher kneels in front of a gray crate. The angle affords me a very nice view of her very nice backside.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I remind myself I don't have time for women. Especially the ones who hate me for no reason. Women are just a distraction from hockey—and my one goal for this year is to have a flawless NHL rookie season…so I’m officially off the market until I hit that goal. No distractions. And actually, it doesn’t even matter in this particular case, because I will never see this woman again. With that reminder, I take one more peek at her ass.
It’s a free country.
“Are you staring at Miss Ally’s cat? Isn’t he cute?” Paige asks.
I clear my throat, glancing down at my niece whom I'd forgotten about. Uncle of the year over here.
“Um, yeah,” I answer, glad she’s too young to realize what I was actually looking at.
The woman, Ally, lifts up a giant crate, and that’s when I hear a cantankerousmeow.
Ugh, cats. Gross. I’m out of here.
I grab Paige’s hand and lead her out of the building and toward my practical Honda Accord. Thankfully, I still have Mitch and Andie’s spare booster seat from when I took the girls to the aquarium last week.
Once we’re on the road, I glance at Paige in my rearview mirror. “So, what time does your dance class end?”
“Eight,” she answers.
My eyes flit to the time on my dash. It’s eight thirty-five. No wonder the dance teacher was so annoyed.
“How come you picked me up, Uncle Noah?”
“Your mommy’s sick, and your daddy got stuck in traffic. We’ll wait for your dad at the loft, okay?”
“Okay!” she says, and there’s a smile in her voice. The girls think the loft is so cool. “Can I use the hot tub?"
I huff a laugh. “Not tonight.”
There’s a jacuzzi on the rooftop with LED lights and hydrotherapy jets. It’s perfect for massaging sore muscles after practices.
