Page 14 of Hat Trick
Emily
Ithought about it. For all of 5 seconds. I like the idea of working as a child therapist or social worker, but honestly, I don't know that I have the stomach. I don't know if I'd be able to sit there and listen to a child tell me about horrible things that had happened to them. I don't know if I'd have the stomach to go to a child's home and suspect they're being the victims of abuse but not have a legal way to protect that child.
But caring for Annie? Helping Carter? Things I would do for free anyway? And getting paid and my degree paid for? Yeah, that sounds perfect to me. Gabe and I will just have to figure something out.
I put together the classes I want to enroll in in the Fall and send them to Carter. It's only two. I should be able to manage two online classes while taking care of Annie. Five minutes later I get an alert from my bank that a large deposit has been made. It's much more than I need for tuition and books and supplies, but it makes me smile. Carter's so generous about everything.
The week passes quickly, and Dad and Sammy are excited about the game. Luca got us amazing seats, right on the glass. We could have afforded tickets but more than likely in the nosebleeds.
Things with Annie and Carter and Luca are great. Carter and I fall into an easy friendship. It feels like we've known each other for years, not just days. Luca's funny and flirtatious, but I get the feeling that's his natural state. It's definitely helped me feel more comfortable being around them.
Gabe, however, is a different story. Every time I walk in the room he stops talking or frowns. He stares at me accusingly. Accusing me of what, I'm not sure, but I get the distinct impression he doesn't like me in his home.
Part of me wants to tell him to get over it. That Carter pays my paychecks and if he doesn't have a problem with me here, Gabe shouldn't either. But I understand they have this crazy teammate-brothers bond and the other part of me really doesn't want to disrupt it. I am a fan first, and the idea that our goalie is distracted or stressed or thinking about anything other than the game makes me uncomfortable.
I start taking my dinner to my room and only popping back out to see if Carter needs help with Annie's bedtime routine or not. He's gotten the hang of it, but I can still see some hesitation in his eyes. He really wants to do everything right and warms my heart to see a big, bad hockey player look nervous and vulnerable. I've seen Carter get into fights on the ice. He has the potential for violence. But seeing him in his home, barefoot, with a tiny blonde toddler on his lap is breathtaking. He's a gorgeous man to begin with, an incredibly talented player. And I think it's the dichotomy of Carter that I love the most. He's violent but vulnerable. Strong but gentle. Graceful but brutal. Handsome but humble. Aggressive but calm. He's everything a man should be.
Tonight, though, something gives. Carter insists on me joining them at the dining room table for dinner. I know he's trying to protect me and force Gabe to accept me, but I feel like this isn't the way to do it.
But, I do as I'm told. I keep my head down and simply listen to the boys as they chat. I love their easy comradery. I've never really hadfriendships like that. I had a few close friends in High School, but my ex isolated me from everyone, and they weren't willing to stick around and watch him be terrible to me. I can't blame them for that.
But I like that for the boys. I'm happy they have each other. I've gathered they've known each other and played together for over a decade. They're a second family to each other - bonded over their love of hockey.
I've just about finished up when Gabe turns his attention to me.
"You know, we don't usually have dinner with our puck bunnies."
I slam my glass down and shoot to my feet while Luca and Carter shout their outrage at him on my behalf. Gabe is completely unphased, with a wicked grin on his face.
Taking a deep breath I calm my voice. "Gabe, can I speak to you outside? Please?" He grunts and nods and follows me outside on the back porch.
He closes the sliding glass door behind himself to give us privacy, before folding his arms across his broad chest and scowling.
"Look, you clearly don't want me here. But Carter does. So, I need to know why you don't like me. What can I do to make it better? I hate the idea that you're uncomfortable in your own home and honestly, your attitude doesn't make me all that comfortable either."
"Look, I don't know what your end game is here," he says, stepping into my space. I take a half a step back before I realize I'd showed weakness and I needed to push back against a guy like this. He wouldn't respect me if I showed I'd let him intimidate me.
"Do you know what those boys in there have to manage on a daily basis as NHL players? Workouts, physical therapy, game play footage, drills, press, scrimmages, travel, PR events. They're walkinga fine line between burn out and success and if they falter for a second, that's the end of their entire careers. Careers they've dedicated decades to. They don't need some thirsty puck bunny dressed up like a nanny distracting them."
SLAP!
"Oh shit," I whisper, holding my stinging hand against my chest with my other. I had slapped him. I'd slapped Gabriel Karlsson - the leading goalie of the NHL and our team. I'm equal parts surprised, scared and indignant. Calling a girl a puck bunny is the equivalent of calling her a slut. And the fact that he thinks that's why I'm living here - that I want to sleep my way into a hockey player's bank account offends and pisses me off.
Gabe's dark, handsome face spreads into a wicked grin. He steps forward again, caging me in against the side of the house.
"Which part of that pissed you off? Calling you a puck bunny, or calling you out for what you are?"
Energy crackles between us. In for a penny, in for a pound. I'm not about to back down now - that would only prove I have ulterior motives.
"I have no interest in you or any of your friends. I make my own money, thank you very much, and have no interest in getting shacked up with a hockey player. Carter needed someone, and that someone was me. I'm not going to distract them, and I've done nothing but be helpful and supportive of you AND them. So, get it through your thick skull," I step forward and poke a finger into his hard chest. "I'm not going anywhere, and until you can show me some respect, I will make your life a living hell. We're roomies, now, remember? I cook your food, wash your socks, I'm home forhourswhile you're at practice.Imagine the damage I could do." I turn around and walk back into the house. I don't know if threatening him was the right move. In fact, I'm pretty sure it wasn't. But I can't show weakness. I have to demand and then earn his respect. I can do that, as long as he doesn't put me at a disadvantage right off the bat because of my gender.
I stop just before the door. "But show me some respect and I'll do the same for you. I can be your greatest ally or the greatest pain in your ass. You decide." And with that I go back inside and lock myself in my room, shaking.
Chapter eight
Carter
The doorbell rings and before I can move, Emily's jumped up off the floor of the living room and opening the front door.
