Page 20 of Rush

“My favorite Dyl-pickle!” My oldest friend holds out his arms while Dylan is now standing in her booster seat in order to get to him.

“Unca BrayBray!” My little girl sing-songs happily, and my chest expands with pride and happiness to see how loved she is by our family and friends. Braysen picks up Dylan and tosses her in the air above his head two times. She’s laughing and smiling when he sits back down with her.

“Sup, Kane.” Braysen claps my shoulder. “What are you two up to?”

“Eat Pizza,” Dylan explains, and Braysen watches her with rapt attention. Only when she starts coloring again does he turn to me.

“Did you mention I would be here tonight to Sammy?” he asks, and I shake my head before taking a pull of soda from my straw. “Oh, f–, I mean dang.” He glances at Dylan, who is side-eyeing him hard. She may be two, but she knows words not to say.

“Don’t worry about it.” I wave him off. “Sam knows we’re friends and still hang out. Why wouldn’t you ever come here to see me?”

“I only visit to see Dylan, Kane. Let's be honest,” Braysen says dryly, and I chuckle. “So you scared the gym rat off?”

Jealousy flares in my chest again, just remembering how close he got to Sam earlier. I saw red when his eyes moved between both of my girls. “He never stood a chance.”

Braysen grunts. “She had a date with him.”

“One,” I reply quickly. “That won’t ever happen again.” I still don't even know how this one snuck by me. Even though he’d been just her workout buddy, I never should have let my guard down. Thankfully, I didn’t need to end it, and Sam took care of that on her own.

Braysen laughs and takes a drink from his glass, his gaze on me. “You know if she ever finds out, she’ll murder you, right?”

“There’s nothing to find out. Nothing that can be proven anyway.” I lean back in the booth, my fingers gently running over Dylan’s pigtails. My little girl is so engrossed in her drawing that she isn’t paying attention to hearing how her daddy has kept other men away from her mommy since she was fifteen years old. Even before that if I’m being completely honest with myself.

Braysen opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by our server. We each order a large pizza, mine being half cheese for Dylan. Our server is enthralled by her and brings her over even more coloring pages to work on. For the next twenty minutes, we talk about the shop, about Braysen’s classes and his upcoming internship. He’s playing hockey in Wisconsin and worries about the schedules conflicting.

“Can’t your advisor put in a word with the company for your internship?” My brow furrows, knowing that most places tend to try and accommodate for such things.

Braysen shakes his head, his face turning thunderous. “It’s not my advisor creating the problems. It's the team’s PR manager. I swear the woman has it out for me.”

“Did you fu—” My eyes drop to Dylan, almost forgetting her little ears are listening. “Ah, did you have a sleepover with her?”

Braysen notices my slip and his shoulders are shaking from holding his laugh. “No. I would never have a sleepover with her. She’s a spitfire on a good day. I’d hate to know what she’s like at any other time.”

A frown mars my face, and he waves me off. “Look, I’m not going to sweat it. My advisor, the coach, and the other team’s manager have all approved my internship hours. She’ll just have to get over it. She does the PR, and all I have to do is follow along with what she says.”

Our food arrives and we all dig in. I make sure to cut up Dylan’s pieces into small rectangles and blow on them so the sauce doesn’t burn her. Braysen knows the drill and grabs her fancy bib with the front pocket on it from her diaper bag for me. Before I even get to my own food, Dylan is shoveling pieces into her mouth, her little body dancing slightly in her chair, while pizza sauce covers her chin. Braysen grins at her, and his eyes flick to mine, filled with humor and memories.

“She really is like her mom.”

A grunt escapes me. “Food makes her happy, and if she doesn’t eat on time, she gets hangry, yup just like her mommy.”

Once we’re finished, there’s only half an hour until the game starts. We split the check, and I quickly get Dylan as cleaned up as I can before heading to the arena. Braysen takes in the facility, his first time in Michigan. I buy a cookie for Dylan at the concession stand since she ate most of her dinner before we find our seats. Now that we’re here, I slip Dylan’s Michigan jersey on her and watch as her face lights up.

“Mommy team.” She points excitedly and shows Braysen.

“Sure is, baby girl,” he says and ruffles her hair with his hand.

The warm-ups end and each team goes to their respective locker rooms. My gaze follows Sam the entire time she’s on the ice. A couple of times I catch her glancing around like she’s trying to find us, and each time it makes my heart race. A few announcements get made next and then the pre-show starts. Once both teams are back on the ice, the starting lineup for the evening is announced. Our little group cheers the loudest when Sam’s name is called. This time she finds us in the crowd. Her blue eyes widen in surprise when she sees Braysen, but she covers it smoothly with a small head nod.

“Guess she isn’t too pissed,” he leans in whispering to me. I clap him on the shoulder in encouragement, giving us both the strength we’ll need after the game when we’re all face to face again. I think it will be fine, but I know he’s anxious.

The game starts, and once again, I feel a knot settle in my stomach anytime Sam is on the ice. She skates like a dream. She’s a force to be reckoned with out there, an impenetrable wall that the other team’s offense can’t get past. All our years of playing together, building each other up, sweeps over me anytime I see her playing. One glance at Braysen and I can see it on his face too. Wonderment and pride. Luca, Braysen, and I each had a hand in helping shape the skater Sam has always been destined to be.

Early in the third period, the game is getting chippy. My fist is clenched, my jaw resting on it so I don’t look as threatening as I feel. There have been some missed calls by the refs with the other team. Their team has had some questionable shoving and tripping of our players and the crowd is starting to feel it. I never want to scare my daughter, but even Dylan can tell I’m stressed. She’s currently sitting on Braysen’s lap, and every once in a while, she looks at me, and her bottom lip wobbles. I try to calm her down while also not flying off the handle when I see some player rams Sam into the boards, hard. While body contact isn't illegal, body checking is. There is no way the player was going after the puck when it left Sam’s stick almost ten seconds beforehand. Sam’s body hits the ice, and she’s slow to get up. The whole crowd gasps and boos at the other team. I catch Sam wince behind her helmet as she skates to the bench, and I see red. It takes everything in me to stay in my seat.

“Yo, easy, Kane,” Braysen mutters under his breath. “Dylan needs you.”

My head whips over to my daughter who has tears pooling in her eyes. “Hey, little Pretty Girl. It’s okay.” I hold out my arms to her and she crawls out of Braysen’s hold and curls on my lap. Her hand touches my cheek.