“We haven’t had much time to hang out this summer, since Pip is staying with you. Everything going good with her?” Dean asked. The two of them had gone out for lunch or drinks quite a bit the previous summer, both of them happy to reconnect after so many years apart. If Pip and Belle weren’t staying with him, Victor suspected this summer would have been the same. In fact, Dean had invited him out several times, but he’d always bailed, claiming he needed to be home for Pip. That hadn’t always been true, but, well, he’d really started to like his daily routine, the one Belle had ruined with her goddamn date tonight.
“Pip’s the fucking bomb. I love that kid and looking after her is no hardship. She’s smart as a whip. I miss going out for drinks with you, but I promised Viv I’d look after Pip and?—”
“How’s Viv’s trip going?” Dean interjected.
Dean had been around when Victor and Vivian’s parents were killed, so the three of them spent a good deal of time together whenever she came home on breaks from college.
“It’s going great, apparently. She’s working her ass off, trying to finish her book in record time.” Victor didn’t mention the ever-growing dark circles under his sister’s eyes, though he and Belle had discussed it a few nights ago. Like him, Belle was worried that Vivian was pushing herself too hard, his sister desperate to complete her work and get home to Pip.
“She’s a hell of a hard worker,” Dean said. “I suspect she’s burning the candle at both ends…as always.”
Victor nodded. “Yeah. She definitely is. But if I point that out to her, the stubborn woman will double down, just to spite me.”
Dean chuckled. “You say up, Viv says down. She’s always known how to push your buttons.”
His comment proved just how good a friend the man had been back in the day. Victor was thrilled when he’d been named the new head coach of the Stingrays prior to this last season. Dean had come in when the club was floundering, and he’d made some solid strategy changes that were instrumental in them making it to the second round of playoffs. This coming season, they were hoping to go all the way.
“So if it’s not Pip or Viv pissing you off, it must be the nanny.”
Victor huffed out a harsh breath. “You’ve been talking to Coulton.”
Dean laughed. “Ever since that guy fell in love, it’s like he’s on a mission to see the rest of you find your lady loves and join him in committed relationship bliss.”
“He’s not the only one,” Victor grumbled. “Fucking Blake, Preston, and Tank are all the same.”
“Yeah. They are. It’s not easy being a bachelor around so many happy dudes in love.”
“Tell me about it. I miss the days when we could all go out to the pub without anyone calling home for fucking permission.”
Dean snorted. “Who’s asking for permission? Those guys hightail it out of the locker room to head home after games so fast, I swear they kick up a cloud of dust in their wake.”
Victor grimaced. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“Also, nice dodge,” Dean said, not letting Victor get away with changing the subject. “Is it the nanny who had your nose out of joint today or not?”
“She’s on a fucking date,” Victor seethed. “With some asshole she met on one of those dating apps. It’s not fucking safe.”
Victor could practically hear the smirk in Dean’s voice.
“Right,” Coach said, “and it’s the safety factor that’s upsetting you.”
He didn’t frame his comment as a question because it wasn’t one. It was sarcasm, plain and simple.
“I don’t have a thing for Pip’s nanny,” Victor said, a little too loudly and forcefully to make his assertion believable.
And because Dean was a good friend, he called him on it. “Are you sure about that? Because the locker room rumor mill seems to have a different opinion. Rook claims you spent a little bit too much time scowling at Belle over the holidays, then warning all the guys to stay away from her. And according to Coulton, while you carefully placed yourself at the opposite end of the table from her the last time the team went to Pat’s Pub after a game, your attention was on her all night.”
“What the fuck is wrong with those guys? Why are they paying so much fucking attention to me?” Victor barked.
“That’s the thing, isn’t it, Vic? Theydon’tpay attention to you. So you must be making it pretty obvious you’ve got a thing for her. Tank said you bit Andrew’s head off last summer when he was flirting with Belle at a team picnic. That’s when the guys realized Belle was off-limits because she’s yours.”
Victor frowned, recalling the way Andrew, one of the newer players on the Stingrays, had latched on to Belle at an end-of-summer picnic hosted by the general manager just prior to the season beginning. He’d spent a good two hours watching the son of a bitch flirt and joke around with Belle, who’d blushed and giggled. Victor hadn’t liked it one fucking bit.
“I didn’t tell Andrew she was mine,” he protested. Instead, he’d pulled his teammate aside and told him to fucking shove off. Belle was Pip’s nanny, not some puck bunny looking for a one-night stand with a hockey player. Andrew, very wisely, backed off after that.
Victor didn’t realize the guy had decided his reprimand meant he was marking Belle as his.
“Blake said a former Stingray player asked for Belle’s number a couple of years ago, and you bit his head off, too, and refused to give it to him.”