A Secret for a Secret (All In #3)(16)

“It’s actually a great idea,” Kingston chimes in. I’m not sure if he’s trying to save my ass, or he really thinks it’s a great idea, but I appreciate the support.

“I’m sure Lou-Ellen was a great assistant, and I know she was lovely, but you’re still stuck in 1999, and the rest of the world is two decades ahead of you. I know it seems like a lot, but honestly, I’m about to make your life a hell of a lot easier.”

“Okay.” My dad blows out a breath and nods. “If you think this is going to make things easier, then I’m game, as long as it doesn’t interfere with any of your other duties.”

“It won’t. I promise.”

He looks to Kingston. “Did you need to see me?”

“Oh, no, sir. I was helping Queenie. I should head out.” He thumbs over his shoulder and takes a step toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. At practice. Have a nice night. Bye, Queenie.” He awkward waves, his face having turned bright red once again, and darts down the hall.

My dad cocks a brow. “He seems smitten with you.”

I snort laugh; it’s a horrible sound. “He’s like a poster boy for the Boy Scouts of America. I think a Girl Scout leader would be more his type.”

“Opposites attract.” He shrugs, maybe trying to come across as nonchalant, but I know my dad, and I can tell he’s fishing.

“Are you saying I couldn’t be a Girl Scout leader?”

“You’re more suited to the rebel faction, I think.” He grins and I laugh.

He’s not wrong. “Well, he seems like a rule follower, and you made it pretty clear that I’m off limits, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about with Kingston.” It’s me he should be concerned about, because as much as we might be mutually off limits, there’s clearly an attraction we’re both fighting. Kingston seems a lot more capable of keeping himself in check than I am.





CHAPTER 7





DODGE AND WEAVE


Queenie

Over the next couple of weeks I settle into a routine. In the morning I make eggs and avocado toast for me and my dad, which we eat while we review the schedule for the day.

I write a lot of memos, arrange meetings, answer emails, and study team statistics whenever I have a little downtime. Having completed almost all the required courses for a psych degree, I’ve taken stats, and it’s something I actually enjoy and excel at, so analyzing numbers is fun for me.

And it’s so much easier now that I’ve moved everything over to digital. I still make my dad paper copies, but at least we’re only killing a few trees and not an entire forest. He was reluctant at first, but when he realized how much more streamlined everything became, he finally relented. It’s made my job so much easier, and it means I can focus on something other than endless paperwork.

Since I’m fully immersed in the world of hockey and everything that entails, I’ve also observed preseason training camp several times. Watching those guys in action gives me a renewed respect for how hard they push themselves physically. It explains Kingston’s exceptional stamina and flexibility.

And so far we’ve got the awkward platonic thing down. He’s always polite, always appropriate, and always red faced when I run into him.

I’d like to say I give him a wide berth as a result, but that would be untrue. In fact, I derive perverse enjoyment from watching him flounder and splutter every time we cross paths, because it’s so very different from how he was that night we spent together. I can’t figure out which version is authentic, or if it’s both.

Today the team has on-ice practice, so I pack up my laptop and the notes for a memo I’m drafting, as well as the schedule of events for the next month. We’ll be heading into exhibition games soon. I also get to watch Kingston tend goal without being obvious about it. It’s a win all the way around.

The patter of little feet and the high-pitched excited voice of my favorite toddler grabs my attention. I glance over at the bench and smile as Rook smothers his son’s face in sweaty kisses. Bowman’s sister, Stevie, has stopped by a bunch of times over the past two weeks. She’s hard to miss with her pale-blue hair. She’s always been friendly and chatty with me, and she’s easy to talk to.

“Daddy! No!” Kody pushes on his father’s cheeks, but he’s giggling.

Stevie, who also happens to be Bishop Winslow’s wife—there are some interesting dynamics with these players—gives her attention to Bishop. He pulls her in for a kiss that isn’t quite PG. She does the same thing Kody did to Bowman, pushing away while laughing.

“Stop mauling my sister, Winslow!” Bowman gripes.

“I’m not mauling her. I’m saying hi to my wife.” Bishop smirks and winks at Stevie.

Bowman sets Kody down, and the moment the kid sees me, his eyes light up. Kody bounces up the stairs and clomp-run-hops excitedly over to me.

Kingston, who’s been a silent observer thus far, glances over his shoulder, watching Kody bumble toward me. Our gazes meet briefly, and the corner of his mouth quirks up before he turns away. And like every other time we make eye contact, a flush creeps up the back of his neck and travels to the tip of his ears.

“Keenie!” Kody climbs into the chair beside mine and stands on the seat so he can hug me. He really is the cutest kid. He has his mother’s dark hair but his father’s eyes and the signature Bowman dimple. It’s impossible not to fall completely in love with his adorableness.