Parental Guidance (Ice Knights #1)(39)

“Yeah, well, he’s playing in tonight’s game,” Peppers said, then took a drink from the sugary concoction in his Harbor City Dental mug. “The front office has decided against trading him.”

All the air whooshed out of his chest in relief. “Good.”

“They’re not trading you, either, but we’re making a change to your jersey,” Blackburn said as he tossed a piece of fabric into Caleb’s lap.

He looked down at the blue A, picking it up with the reverence that the letter denoting the alternate captain deserved.

Brain still processing what this meant, he looked up at Blackburn and Peppers. “But I fucked up.”

“Are you gonna do that again?” Coach asked.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Then take the A,” Blackburn said.

“And don’t worry about the Bramble thing,” Peppers said. “I can talk to Lucy to get you out of it.”

In a heartbeat, everything slammed back into action: his heart started beating again, his mental abilities caught up with the situation, and he almost jumped out of his chair—stopping himself just in time.

“No,” Caleb said, the single word coming out like a curse. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’ll see it through.”

“Might as well finish up the last two dates, eh?” Coach steepled his fingers and tapped them against his chin. “I like it. Shows you finish what you start. The front office will appreciate that.”

That was nice but was not the reason Caleb was doing this—not that he was about to say it out loud. Still, the amused tilt of Blackburn’s smirk meant Caleb wasn’t entirely successful in keeping that information to himself. He glowered at his defensive partner, who just shrugged and flipped him off while Coach wasn’t watching.

Yeah, Blackburn could suck it. Caleb had had to watch the other man fall like a boulder through thin ice for Fallon Hartigan last year—the last thing Caleb needed was for Mr. I Know Everything About Relationships Now to think that’s what he wanted for himself. It wasn’t.

This thing with Zara? It was just fun. No strings. No feelings. No commitment. Those were the rules. That’s what they’d agreed to, and she was obviously sticking to it even if he had been starting to waver. He wouldn’t be that dumb again.





Chapter Eleven


Shoulder still aching a bit from the hit he’d taken during last night’s home game that had sent him crashing into the boards, Caleb eased his truck into the parallel parking spot on the busy Harbor City street near Zara’s building and took his phone out of the glove box. He’d meant to drive across the Harbor Bay bridge home to Waterbury after this afternoon’s practice. Instead, he’d driven in the exact opposite direction because he’d been driving with his dick—not literally but close enough. It was allowed, though, because this wasn’t about a relationship. This was just for fun so everyone got off.

Engine off and phone in hand, he fired off a quick message.

Caleb: You in?

He didn’t take his gaze off the screen. It remained stubbornly blank. He was an asshole—the kind who fucked around and ran off. Who could blame her for the past few days of emoji-only responses to his texts? She was sending a message, and he had to accept that. Then, three little text dots appeared on his screen and he whispered a “fuck yeah” in the empty cab of his truck.

Zara: Yes, but I’m not fit for public.

Caleb: Bad day?

Zara: The worst cramps ever.

His experience with that was all theoretical, but there were many benefits to growing up with sisters—one of which was knowing not to fuck with a woman dealing with period cramps.

Caleb: Sorry.

Zara: It’s okay. When I die, make sure someone comes and feeds Anchovy so he won’t eat my corpse.

Caleb: Only cats would do that. Anchovy is a good boy. Speaking of which, I have something for him. Can I stop up real quick?

Zara: Thought you were in Toronto.

If he looked in the rearview mirror about then, he had no doubt as to the goofy-ass grin he’d be wearing. His damn cheeks hurt. This was ridiculous. Thank God he was alone.

Caleb: Not until tomorrow but you’re following my games now?

Zara: Anchovy sat on the remote. I didn’t have a choice.

Caleb: Uh-huh. Whatever you say.

She only sent an eye roll emoji in response.

Caleb: I actually found a parking spot only three blocks down from your place. Can I swing by?

Okay, the truth of it was that he’d driven around her neighborhood for a solid fifteen minutes hunting for a parking spot, but she didn’t need to know that. He didn’t want her to think he was a total creeper.

Zara: All right, just know what you’re in for.

Caleb: I grew up in an all-girl family. You can’t scare me.

Instead of making the left to go to her apartment building once he got out of his truck, he turned right so he could hit the corner store, where he grabbed a bottle of red with a pair of high heels on the label that reminded him of Zara and half a dozen different kinds of candy bars, hoping she’d like at least one of them. He was knocking on her front door five minutes after the old lady behind the counter handed him his change, gave an appraising look at his items as she bagged them, and wished him good luck.

Zara opened the door wearing yoga pants, a long-sleeve T-shirt, and fuzzy slippers that looked like Anchovy had munched on them a time or twelve. Her long red hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she was clutching a bag of chips.