Filed to story: Luci Forrester and Easton Reed: Hockey Romance Story
Reaching over, I squeezed Cole’s arm gently, offering him a smile. I promised myself I would give him a proper hug before I left-if she allowed me to, that is. He deserved affection; he was such a sweet boy.
In the background, I heard an irritated voice filtering through the air, a reminder of my own turbulent childhood. I had learned to tune out yelling and frustration from a young age. It made me think of Janet; I needed to check in on her. I missed her.
Turning my attention back to Mrs. Walters, I realized that the irritated voice belonged to her.
“Miss Forrester! Are you even listening to me?” Her shock was palpable, her outrage evident.
“I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, and I think the shock is finally catching up with me,” I explained, trying to convey my weariness without oversharing.
“I asked if I could compensate you in some way besides covering your hospital bill,” she said, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.
“Oh no! That’s really more than enough,” I replied, watching as relief washed over her features.
“Very well,” she said curtly, dismissing me with a wave of her hand.
I turned to Cole, feeling a pang of sadness. “I’m really glad I got to meet you, Mr. Cole. You were incredibly brave today.”
“I’ll miss you, Luci,” he said, his eyes filling with sadness.
“I’ll miss you too. Bye, Cole,” I said, pulling him into a quick hug before reluctantly stepping away. I had never known a grandmother, but Imogen Walters didn’t seem to embody the warmth of that title. With a small wave, I made my way out of the triage area, my heart heavy.
Outside, I pondered whether I could call an Uber to get back to campus; it wasn’t the shortest walk from here. Just as I pulled up the app on my phone, I heard a familiar whistle.
“Hey, Luci.” I turned to find Warner, the EMT. “Need a ride back to campus? Our station is just next door.”
I returned his smile with genuine gratitude. “That would be fantastic.”
He nodded, gesturing for me to follow him. “Come on. You can tell us all about the prim and proper dragon grandmother who was meeting with the abandoning nanny.”
I chuckled at his description as he dropped me off right where the accident had occurred. It was fine; my car was only a block away.
I glanced at the tree where a tow truck was working to remove the car that had collided with it. A shiver ran through me as I felt relief that no one, especially not a little boy, had been pinned beneath the wreckage. Warner had mentioned that the driver had sustained some broken bones but would recover. I could only hope their phone had broken too.
Turning away, I almost collided with a tall figure, stopping just an inch short. I looked up to see the Four Kings.
Of course, it would be Easton I ran into again. I stepped back, hoping he hadn’t noticed me, but luck wasn’t on my side today. As I tried to maneuver around them, they fanned out, effectively blocking my path-a solid wall of blond-haired giants.
Easton and Jackson were twins, and so were Becker and Kingston. They were close in age, at least that was the rumor circulating around campus. Whispers about their dating lives and mysterious family connections were common. They claimed to be brothers, but that couldn’t possibly be true biologically. Perhaps they were adopted, but it wasn’t my place to pry. I understood better than anyone that family could take many forms, not always fitting into traditional molds.
Becker and Kingston shared enough resemblance with Easton and Jackson that it was clear they were related. Their hair was a golden blonde, contrasting with Easton’s silvery hue and Jackson’s icy shade. Kingston’s hair fell to his shoulders, often tied back in the popular man bun style, while Becker’s was slightly shaggy, reminiscent of Easton’s windblown look.
I took two steps back, trying to find a way to skirt around the imposing hockey team wall. “Luci, did you lose the ice wrap we sent you?” Becker’s calm voice broke through the tension. He was the friendliest of the four, or at least the least likely to bite.
I glanced down at my wrist, recalling how Cole had played with the ice wrap in the ambulance. He needed a distraction, and I had handed it over, watching him insist that “no, that’s for boo-boos” until I assured him my own boo-boo was just fine.
Before I could respond, Easton’s growling voice cut through the air. “Of course she lost it. She’s not even bright enough to wear a jacket outside, knowing she’d be shivering.” His tone dripped with mockery, but beneath it lay a current of anger. I rolled my eyes and began to move to get around them.
He called out louder, “Can’t do any better than eye-rolling? You do have a knack for appearing in the most inconvenient places, don’t you?”
I scowled as I continued walking. He had no idea of the truly inconvenient places I had endured. I heard Warner’s voice from the ambulance, just as he was about to pull away from the curb.
“Hey Luci, are you okay? Is he bothering you?”
Sometimes, my scatterbrain fired off responses faster than I could think them through. “He’d have to matter to bother me. I’m fine. Thanks, Warner,” I replied, waving him off as I kept walking. That probably wasn’t the smartest thing to say, but it felt satisfying nonetheless.
I heard a hiss behind me, followed by what sounded like a stifled chuckle. “Damn East, you might need some ice for that burn,” Kingston’s quiet voice chimed in.
Turning the corner, I glanced back to see Easton standing there, fists clenched, his gaze fixed on me. He quickly looked over his shoulder when Jackson whispered something to him.
“Careful you don’t get caught in the same trap as your rabbit, Luci,” he said coldly, sending a shiver down my spine. But then I spotted the football team approaching the Reed brothers, and that was enough motivation for me to hurry into my car and drive away.
The next morning, I awoke with a groan, feeling as if a truck had run over me. I resolved to grab some ibuprofen and take a hot shower, hoping it would alleviate some of the pain.
As I walked to my first class of the day, my phone rang with an unknown number. I answered, half-expecting a telemarketer to be on the other end.
To my surprise, it was that austere voice again. “Miss Forrester, this is Imogen Walters.”
“Hello, Mrs. Walters. Is Cole alright?” I asked, concern creeping into my voice.
“Yes, he’s fine. I need to discuss something with you regarding yesterday’s unfortunate incident.”
Uh oh, this couldn’t be good…
“I’m reaching out about a job, Miss Forrester. With the holidays approaching, my social calendar is quite packed. Cole requires a nanny Monday through Friday after preschool and occasionally on Saturday mornings. There may also be some Saturday evenings when I have plans. During the week, you would transport him from preschool to our home and care for him until 6 PM. He finishes school at 2:30, and the preschool isn’t far from campus. Given Madison’s actions yesterday, I can no longer employ her. Does this arrangement interest you?”