“All right,” he says, nodding like that answer was acceptable. “Well, have fun. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I turn on my heel, exiting his office, brain still short-circuiting over the whole accidental-boyfriend thing.
When I step into the rink, I’m met with pure, unadulterated chaos. Rhodes is losing a game of Shark—in spectacular fashion—to a swarm of tiny children.
He skates backward, trying to evade their outstretched arms, but they’re relentless, laughing as they chase him across the ice like a pack of feral little wolves. I’m impressed to see that after two weeks on the ice, most of them are staying completely upright. Rhodes and I make a pretty damn good team.
“Come on, guys!” he shouts, breathless. “It’s twenty-four against one—that’s not how this game works!”
I snort, tugging my skates on quickly. “Sounds like ayouproblem, McKnight,” I yell.
His gaze snaps to mine, narrowed but amused. “I’m filing a complaint with HR. My co-teacher is late.”
I roll my eyes, stepping onto the ice. The second my blades touch, Rhodes sends all twenty-four kids racing in my direction.
“Okay, okay!” I laugh, hands up in surrender. “I see what’s happening here. Very cute.”
Rhodes skates past me, grinning, and murmurs in my ear. “You’re up, sweetheart.”
“All right, everyone, let’s split up for warm-ups,” I call out, pointing the hockey kids toward Rhodes and beckoning the figure skaters over to me. A few of the hockey boys attempt to plead their case to stay with me, and I rub one of their helmeted heads before nudging them toward Rhodes.
Rhodes watches from a few feet away, arms crossed, that devastatingly smug smirk tugging at his lips.
I narrow my eyes. “What?”
“Nothing.” He tilts his head, amusement flickering in his navy-blue eyes. “You’re just really bossy today.”
I skate backward toward my kids, matching his smirk. “I’m teaching, Rhodes.” I let the teasing lilt creep into my voice. “But if you want, I can boss you around later, too.”
His jaw flexes slightly, but the grin stays. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
I bite back a grin, skating a slow, taunting circle around my kids. “Then you better hope your kids can keep up, McKnight.”
He claps his hands together. “All right, let’s see what you got, Abrams.”
And just like that, we’re off—pushing, teasing,flirtingwhile the kids warm up.
I know I’m technically working, but this doesn’t feel like work at all. It feels exactly how I want to spend my birthday. Doing the thing I love, with the person I…like more than other people.
* * * *
After my classes that day, I get a pedicure and order more Chinese takeout than I can possibly eat myself. I’m sure Rhodes will help me with leftovers, so I get a little of everything. I settle onto my couch, food balancing on my lap, and turn on some early 2000s chick-flick nostalgia to end my birthday on a high note. My coffee table is a mess of nail polish, candy snacks, and popcorn. There is a pang of loneliness that hits unexpectedly at the lack of girlfriends to call. I’m not even sure how to go about making new friends. My classes are full of college students, and even if I wasinterested in hanging back with a collegiate crowd, everyone has a group already. And it’s not like I am meeting tons of new people at the rink.
I shake off the depressing air that has suddenly filled my apartment and focus on the task at hand—movie watching and snack eating. And Rhodes missing.
I’ve become annoyingly attached to my hockey player. And the reason he’s not here is because of hockey, which is irritating because it means he is at the rink and decidedly not making out with me on my couch.
My phone pings, and because Rhodes has officially infiltrated my life, I now actually keep the sound on. In case of emergencies.
Rhodes (8:30pm):I’m coming to pick you up.
I’m surprised to be getting a text from him before ten.
Monroe (8:31pm):Your practice is done early.
Rhodes (8:32pm):Eat your takeout and watch your movie at my place tonight. Omw.