Filed to story: Luci Forrester and Easton Reed: Hockey Romance Story
Surprisingly, he seems to grasp my unspoken concerns. He holds up his hand to stop me. “You want to know if she’s suddenly going to come parading into the house to see him or trying to take him out of it. You’re smart to ask, given what little you’ve been told and with us just showing up that night. No, she should not be a problem. She lives overseas. But she isn’t allowed to take him anywhere. If anyone shows up claiming to be his mother, that’s an automatic 911 call to me. Not my mother, me.” His authority is unmistakable, and I can sense the protective nature behind his words.
“Got it,” I assure him, feeling a sense of relief wash over me.
“She’s not a danger to him. But she has no rights to him. I should also add that includes anyone beyond my parents and siblings. You will meet my father at some point. He works… a lot. You’re escorting Cole to our game this weekend.”
“Your mother said it was expected and… and okay,” I mumble, barely meeting his eyes. I can’t help but wonder if he knows the entire sordid story behind his family.
“Yes, and I will be making double f*****g sure of that. If Nick Humphries says one word to you in an ugly manner, especially in front of my son, I need to know,” he tells me quietly, and I sense the weight of his words.
“Nothing of importance was missed in our last class,” Jackson remarks casually as I glide around the rink, taking my time to warm up my muscles. I had made the choice to skip literature today, a decision that weighed heavily on me, but it was necessary to have a conversation with Luci.
“Is your mother playing games with her?” Becker whispers, his voice barely above the sound of skates gliding over ice.
“Is ice frozen?” I mutter back, my irritation evident, and he rolls his eyes in response. Just as I’m about to add something else, I catch sight of Coach skating toward us with purpose.
“Enough with the skating, guys. Time to stretch,” he calls out, his tone brooking no argument. We obediently shuffle to the side, but it’s at this moment that the high-pitched squeals begin. I don’t even bother to look back; I know exactly what’s happening.
“F*****g puck bunnies…” I mutter under my breath, frustration bubbling up inside me. This practice is supposed to be a sanctuary, a place where we focus, yet every other week, a few of these girls seem to sneak in, and they drive me absolutely insane.
“Honestly, that’s their goal, East. You’re usually sharper on the draw,” Kingston chimes in, a smirk spreading across his face. “They’re just hoping we’ll take them home. Personally, I’d be terrified of the diseases some of them might carry.”
“Look at you, a regular f*****g comedian these days. What’s got you so chatty?” I retort, surprised at his sudden boldness. Normally, he’s more reserved, allowing Becker to take the lead on the banter.
“I got inspired by that little nanny calling you out. She really let you have it,” he says, taking a step back, sensing my growing annoyance. I can feel the urge to smack him on the back of the head rising within me.
Before I can act on that impulse, Coach’s voice rises above the din. “Practice is closed, ladies! Get lost, or I’ll have security escort you out!” Becker mutters under his breath, “Too bad she doesn’t call out Porter.” His eyes flick to the defenseman, who is currently showing off for the puck bunnies as they prepare to leave.
“Things would be worse if she did. You know he gets nasty,” Jackson adds, and we all fall silent, the gravity of the moment settling over us.
Coach Humphries skates closer, his expression serious. “Easton, I need to see you in my office after practice,” he instructs.
“Yes, Coach,” I reply, my stomach churning. I already know what this conversation will entail. Once practice concludes, I rush to shower, hoping to wash away the tension before heading to Coach’s office. I knock on the door, and he invites me in.
“Close the door behind you, Easton.” I do as instructed, moving to stand before his desk. “You can take a seat,” he offers, but I shake my head.
“I’ve done enough sitting today, Coach. Standing feels better for now.” I shove my hands into my jeans, my tension palpable. I can sense that I might need to express my irritation physically if this conversation goes south.
“I spoke with your mother recently. She’s hired Luci Forrester to look after your son,” he states, his gaze steady on mine. I remain silent, observing him with a calm demeanor.
“You allowed that to happen? Knowing her reputation?” Coach is one of the few on campus aware of Cole’s existence. I’ve kept him out of the spotlight.
“Cole chose her. He’s very attached to her after she saved him from a texting driver,” I explain, deciding to stick to the bare truth. I won’t let anyone harm my son. If Luci brings him happiness, then he gets Luci, regardless of my personal feelings.
He huffs, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. He tosses his pen onto the desk in frustration. “I’ll overlook her for Cole’s sake and because your parents contribute significantly to the school. But she needs to understand that she’s to remain off the radar. I don’t want her bothering your teammates.” Half the team is like family to me, but whatever…
He continues, “Maxton mentioned she’s been causing trouble in a class you share. Do I need to step in to ensure you all remain eligible to play?”
“Maxton practically assaulted her, Coach. You might want to intervene with him before she decides to press charges,” I say, my tone deliberately bored, masking my rising anger.
“What do you mean? He claimed he just insulted her and she cried. That’s what he told me,” Coach says, his eyes narrowing as he studies my face.
“He lied to you. He grabbed her neck and wrist. I heard she had bruises after that class,” I reply, keeping my voice steady. Becker had been the one to get her an ice pack, but she refused to use it. He even had to convince the nurse to deliver it, worried she wouldn’t accept it from him. He was ready to throw Maxton through a window over it. We weren’t alone in our outrage; even Deacon, with his football brain, knew Maxton needed a serious beatdown. Julian Soames, however, remained indifferent.
“I’ll talk to him. Even if she tries to press charges, they’ll likely shut her down. It would be his word against hers, and his parents have enough clout to make it disappear. But I’ll say something to him since your son seems to like her. I can’t have you distracted or cutting practices for childcare issues.”
I regard him with a blank stare. Reacting doesn’t serve me well with him; he and his brother are cut from the same cloth.
“As long as Cole doesn’t see or hear any unpleasantness while he’s at the game, Coach, I won’t allow him to be caught up in anything, regardless of her… transgressions,” I assert, my voice firm.
He knows I mean it. Madison pulled her stunt at a game, trying to draw attention to me using Cole, and I lost it on her. That was the last game Cole attended, and he’s set on coming this Saturday. I won’t let anyone ruin that for him.
He studies me for a moment before gesturing toward the chair again, glancing briefly at the door. “Sit. I need to inform you about some of her actions. You need to be aware so you can watch over your kid when she’s around. I wouldn’t put it past her to use him to get to you or one of your brothers.”
I take a seat, my curiosity piqued. I wonder if I’ll finally uncover what the hell she’s done. Kendall, our other defenseman, has a brother, Alec, on the team who is a real jerk. He once mentioned that Coach Frank Humphries had warned them to steer clear of her, but if they had to interact, they were free to insult her without restraint. Our coach has never said anything other than to imply she should be able to handle whatever comes her way or leave.
He fiddles with his pen for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “She’s worked as a part-time nanny before. During one of those jobs, she met a football player who was related to her employer. He bullied her after she flirted with him a few times, calling her an easy target. He claimed it wasn’t right, but it should have been dealt with back then. Some people need to toughen up and learn to fight back; it stops the behavior. But he said she would just cry. Just before the playoffs, she approached his fianc?e, claiming she was sleeping with the football player. The fianc?e was devastated, and they broke up. She even attempted self-harm, which sent the player into a downward spiral. They brought Luci in to question her about it, and she was extremely upset. She eventually admitted that she lied because he bullied her and the school refused to take any action. She thought it would be her way of getting back at him.”
He leans forward, lowering his voice. “There’s more I can’t share, but that’s the general backstory. Trust me, the girl has issues, and they’re not pretty. She ruined two lives with a false claim. Frank took it all very personally. We think of you boys as our own after coaching you for so long. My brother hoped she’d be run off campus after what she did. A little old-school justice, since nothing could be done criminally. But she wouldn’t budge. At least she keeps to herself now that she’s been warned.”
I remain silent, processing this information.
“Be cautious about trusting her. Like I said, she has deeper issues,” he warns, his sincerity evident. I can’t help but wonder about that. I’ve seen her zone out, like the other night when Baker had to call her name several times before she responded. Initially, I thought it was shock from our presence, but now I have my doubts. I recall the little twitches I’ve noticed recently. The rest of his story sounds like a load of crap. She stood up to me just fine the other night. I can’t call him out on it, though.
“Is my son at risk?” I ask, my concern for Cole surfacing.