I guessed it was for now. I had a game to play tonight, and playing hockey was currently the furthest thing from my mind.

“Yeah, I’ll be in contact. I have a game tonight but have tomorrow off. I’ll call you to set up something. You’ll also be hearing from my attorney.”

She frowned, opened the door, and beat a hasty retreat to her car. I watched her get in and drive away. Only then did I wonder what I’d gotten myself into, not with the kids but with her.

Chapter Nine

Bad Game

~~Easton~~

The Sockeyes’ home arena was electric as we marched as a team in a line through the tunnel and out the arena gate onto the ice for our pregame warm-ups. I put one foot on the slick surface, ready to skate energetically around the boards. Instead, my skate stuck to the ice as if it’d been covered in glue. My ass hit the ice first with my legs and arms flapping.

The good-sized crowd in attendance to see warm-ups cheered at my misfortune. Playing the good sport, I scrambled to my feet, pulled off the skate guards I’d forgotten about, and did a low bow to the fans. They loved it, but their appreciation of my good humor did nothing to assuage the burning embarrassment. Of course, the jerk in the media booth chose to replay the scene on the large center screens.

Face flaming, I skated to middle ice, where some teammates were doing drills.

“Nice one, rookie.” Cedric slapped me on the back so hard I almost went down again, which brought guffaws from the team veterans and my now former friends.

I tried to concentrate on my drills and my skating, but my brain would not engage. Not only was I obsessing over my fall, but I was obsessing over being a father and, even worse, over Caro. By the time I got back from tomorrow’s road trip in a week, she’d be moved to Seattle.

I’d solved Caro’s living situation earlier that afternoon. The team’s goalie coach had been living in a condo courtesy of the team owner until he’d bought a house and moved into it about a month ago. It was dumb luck that the place had come available at the same time I’d asked Mina, Ethan Parker’s scary-assed assistant, if she knew of any openings in the Parker Union Condo Building.

I’d wanted to pay the rent. Ethan insisted on not taking any rent. He said I’d be doing him a favor as he’d write off the loss of income from the unit.

I didn’t believe a write-off was that big of a favor, but I graciously accepted. NHL rookies made a good salary, but lots of rookies spent way above their means in a short amount of time. I didn’t want to be one of them. Kaden was already heading that way, despite lectures from Steele and me about the virtues of saving for a rainy day. By and large, most hockey careers were short-lived, allowing us a small portion of our lives to earn the big bucks. A guy never knew when he’d suffer a game-ending injury or when the league no longer wanted his services.