The following Monday, Caro and I sat at the shiny black dining room table in her new condo and hashed out the details of a temporary agreement. Tomorrow I left on a four-day road trip.

Caro made notes in the margins of the paperwork, and I craned my neck to read what she’d written. She caught me in the act, and I looked away, ashamed of myself for reading her personal notes.

The sooner we had this agreement done, the better. I’d legally have rights to see my kids. Caro had agreed to allow me to see the twins whenever I was available as long as I prearranged the visitations. She insisted she be present, and I didn’t mind for more selfish reasons than the well-being of my kids.

She was getting to me despite my hands-off oath, an oath I was beginning to question.

Every time I was near her, my heart raced and my body hummed. When she was gone, something was missing, and I felt empty. Hockey was the only thing that quelled the emptiness, and I was beginning to wonder if hockey had been doing that very thing for longer than I cared to admit. The breakup from my college girlfriend hadn’t bothered me as much as it did when I hadn’t seen Caro for a day or two. I was getting in deeper and deeper.

Our chemistry had survived the years and the secrets. When I wasn’t with her or playing hockey, my thoughts centered on her and my children. Despite my intentions, I was confused and conflicted as to where Caro should fit into my life. Should she fit? Did I want her to fit? At times I did, and at others, I wanted to escape to my Puck Brother existence and pretend she wasn’t anyone special, which made me either smart or delusional.

“Easton?” Caro nudged me to get my attention. “Does this work for you?”

I squinted and tried to recall what she’d said. Oh, yeah, I remembered. She wanted a specific schedule. “Nope, not during hockey season. I’m not budging on this topic.”

As much as she wanted to nail down everything to specific dates and times, I refused to waver on keeping it loose during the hockey season.

She sighed. She hated backing down as much as I did. “Fine. We’ll revisit everything once the season ends, and we’ve had time to evaluate how it’s going.”

“Sounds good.”

Holy hockey pucks, she smelled incredible, but then she always smelled like a fresh field of wildflowers in the spring sunshine. If I didn’t watch it, I’d be spouting fucking poetry.

“Easton? You’re doing it again. Pay attention. You’re worse than your son.”

That brought a grin to my face, and Caro rolled her eyes.

“Sorry.” I tried to sound contrite but didn’t pull it off.

“Is that all?”

I pulled my head out of my ass and brought up the biggest elephant in the room. “Uh, no, on the matter of when to reveal I’m their father…” I hesitated. This would be one of the trickiest subjects to broach.