As for sex with Easton…

~~Caroline~~

Saturday evening, loaded down with junk food and dressed in our jerseys, we navigated down the stadium stairs and found our seats on the glass. Junie sat on one side of me, while the kids sat on the other.

I hadn’t seen Easton since we’d discussed the visitation plan. The team had flown into Seattle early Friday morning, and, yes, I knew his schedule. He hadn’t checked in, not that I expected him to do so, or had I? I might even be a little disappointed that he hadn’t bothered to drop in last night to check on the kids—his kids.

As we took our seats, the team skated onto the ice for warm-ups. I spotted Easton immediately. I’d recognize the way he moved anywhere, even under his uniform and padding. He moved with energy combined with coordination, overtly masculine in his grace. He owned the ice, commanded it, made it conform to his wishes, and he was a joy to watch.

Junie elbowed me and smirked. “You’re drooling all over your new jersey.”

“I am not.”

Junie snorted so hard she almost sucked beer up her nose. “Whatever.”

I ignored her. Right now, my eyes were on Easton and Easton only. I didn’t care that Junie was witnessing my pathetic crush on a hot hockey player, if that’s what this was.

Easton turned away from a drill he’d been doing when our eyes met. A slow, sexy smile lifted up both corners of his mouth and my spirits. He was happy to see me, not just the kids, but me. I warned my tender heart not to read too much into a simple smile.

Easton lazily made a circle around the boards, eventually passing us. His movements were loose and easy. He tapped on the glass with his stick as he skated past.

Hailey’s eyes grew big as she realized who he was. “Mom, that was Easton. Easton is a hockey player. Did you know that? Did you know Mr. E is a hockey player? Did you? Did you? I wonder if he’ll sign our jerseys. Oh. Oh. This is his number. Look, Mom, this is his number!” Hailey bounced in her seat, pointing at the number on her chest.

“Yes, I did. I—” My words were lost in the jabbering of my daughter. She was too wound up to listen. I turned to Heath, who rolled his eyes, and I had to laugh. He was coming out of his grief and turning back into the son I knew. I’d been so worried he might actually never be that happy-go-lucky kid again.

“I knew who he was all along. He’s Big E,” Heath said with a superior smirk. Even Hailey stopped her constant stream of words to gape at him.

“You did not,” Hailey and I both said at the same time.

He shrugged and didn’t say any more. Every time Easton came to the condo, Heath had stared at him with hero worship in his brown eyes. Maybe he had known all along but been afraid to say anything. Easton would get a kick out of this. Next time I saw him, I’d be sure to tell him that Heath had rendered Hailey speechless.