Page 116 of Moms of Mayhem
Shannon blinked. “What about my school schedule? I can still do that?”
“Absolutely,” I said quickly. “And work at the studio if you want. We just need someone consistent. Someone she trusts. And you clearly already have that.”
Mom beamed at this new idea, wrinkles framing her big smile.
Shannon still looked wary. “What’s the stipend?”
I hesitated for just a second. “$700 a week.”
Her jaw dropped. “That’s—what? Almost three grand a month.”
“Three thousand,” I confirmed. “Flat. Plus, no rent, no utilities, and you can buy your groceries on my card when you get hers. I’ll give you another couple grand as a signing bonus to get whatever you want for your room. New clothes, or whatever you need for the next semester. However you want to spend it.”
She sat back, looking like she’d just been hit in the face with a cinnamon roll.
Mikko shifted beside her, watching her reaction like a hawk. Logan was wide-eyed, halfway through a second roll and looking like he’d take the job himself if she didn’t.
Shannon blinked down at her lap. “I mean, yeah. Yeah, okay. I could do that. If you’re sure.”
Mom lit up like Christmas morning, grabbing Shannon’s hand again. “Oh, I’m very sure. Can you move in today? I need some girl power in this house of boys.”
Shannon swallowed hard, and for a second, I thought she might cry. But she just nodded and squeezed Mom’s hand back.
I leaned back in my chair, satisfaction settling in deep. Two problems solved and a safe home for both of them.
Mikko met my eyes, giving me the briefest nod of approval.
We finished the meal, topic shifting to tonight’s Mayhem practice and how excited the guys were to meet the team.
My first time out on the Linwood Rink ice was more exciting than I had anticipated. The cold hit me the second I stepped onto the ice, familiar and comforting. I’d spent the afternoon sneaking in as much ice time as I could on the pond, out of sight in case I embarrassed myself. The ache in my hip was barely a murmur, drowned out by the thrill of movement as I glided toward center.
Ty was already out there stretching, his stick tapping lightly against the boards. He gave me a lazy grin. “Took you long enough. I thought you young folk were supposed to be spry.”
I shot him a look. “You’re four months older than me.”
“Which makes you the baby.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to know about your diaper rash though. That’s a you problem.”
Before I could come up with a good comeback, the doors at the far end of the rink opened, and a wave of noise came pouring out—sticks clattering, voices yelling, laughter echoing through the arena.
“Conway!” Molly was the first one on the ice, helmet unclipped, braid swinging. “Are the rumors true? You’re not just here to stand around looking pretty today?”
Delgado followed, adjusting his elbow pads. “You cleared to skate or just ignoring doctor’s orders?”
“Can’t be both?” I called, grinning as I started toward them.
Jace was right behind them, eyes flicking to my stride like he was assessing me. “How’s the hip?”
“Good enough,” I said. “You going to take it easy on me, Juice?”
“Nope.”
“Didn’t think so.”
Miles skated out last, his helmet tucked under one arm. “I was told there’d be blood today.”
“Relax, psycho,” Ty called. “It’s a skills skate, not the Octagon.”
Jace skated a slow lap around me, then stopped, eyebrows raised. “You sure you’re not going to embarrass yourself?”
