Filed to story: Luci Forrester and Easton Reed: Hockey Romance Story
“Hope it’s not as bad as your breath. Back off you creep.”
I had quickly spun away to put some distance between us, worried Maxton might touch me again. Before anything else could happen, I’d heard him before I saw him.
Easton called out, “Someone causing trouble again? Haven’t learned from the last encounter….”
He’d moved in front of me blocking their view of me with his arms folded over his chest before smirking. His brothers naturally flanked him. I’d pushed past him, making sure I hit him with my shoulder, which was petty, but I was done.
“Luci, bubble beard!” I return to the present to smile at him and his silliness.
“I like it, Coco.” I called him yesterday while we were playing and he thought it was hilarious.
“Let’s get out so you can eat dinner.”
He races ahead of me once we are down the stairs. “Race Luci!” I follow behind slowly, intending to let him win. Before I turn the corner, I hear him squeal.
“Daddy!” Cole is launching himself at a tall guy crouched down. I gasp audibly as I hear that voice that no one will ever forget.
“Cole.”
Then his eyes meet mine and I shrink back at the swirling storm of emotions in them.
“Luci, this is my daddy. His name is Easton.”
Luci
The revelation that Easton Reed is Cole’s father is a thought that had never crossed my mind, yet here I stand, watching him beam next to the Icebreaker hockey captain, who is crouched low, probably discussing strategies or plays. The resemblance is undeniable; Cole’s eyes, primarily a soft light blue, are flecked with a glimmer of silver, a trait that must come from Easton. His hair, a blend of golden hues with an ashy undertone, adds to the familial connection I’m only just beginning to grasp.
As I step back, my mind races, grappling with this unexpected information. I find myself swiping my thumb across my thumbnail, a nervous habit I’ve developed over the years to soothe my fraying nerves. The whirlwind of questions in my head is overwhelming, but I know better than to voice them. Answers seem like a distant dream, and I can already feel my thoughts spiraling out of control.
My initial instinct is to retreat into the familiar world of job hunting. There’s no chance the four kings-those formidable Reed brothers-would ever let me near their son and nephew. I had always assumed Cole’s last name was Walters, considering he lives with his grandparents. It dawns on me that Mrs. Walters must be his maternal grandmother. But what about Cole’s mother? Is she going to make an appearance soon? Is she someone I recognize? The rumors about Easton’s past relationships flood my mind, and I can’t help but think that Imogen Walters would never allow any daughter of hers to be labeled a “puck bunny.”
Next time, Luci, gather more details. This was too good to be true…
“Miss Luci?”
I snap back to reality, realizing that Baker has been calling my name repeatedly. I blink rapidly, suddenly aware of the four hockey gods before me, their gazes fixed on me as if I were some curious specimen on display. Which, to them, I probably am.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Baker. I was just lost in thought,” I manage to say, forcing my focus back to him, trying to ignore the gnawing worry in my stomach and the frantic beating of my heart.
“I was wondering if you’re still planning to join Cole for dinner, considering the boys are here,” he says, his concern evident in his tone.
Panic sets in as I realize I’ve been lost in my thoughts for far too long. Please, don’t make me explain this to them. I can already picture the delight on their faces as they share my awkwardness with everyone. I open my mouth to ask a few questions, but before I can utter a word, I’m interrupted.
“No, of course she isn’t, Baker. The boys are here to spend time with Cole, and I’m home. I see you’ve now met Cole’s father, Luci.”
I whirl around to find Imogen Walters standing behind me, her expression bordering on a glare, as if I’ve just stumbled upon her most guarded secrets. “I must remind you that under the NDA you signed, you cannot disclose that Cole’s last name is Reed, nor their identities.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” I reply quietly, forcing myself to focus on her words.
“Good. Now, go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She dismisses me with a wave of her hand.
“Goodbye, Cole. Enjoy your dinner,” I say, crouching down to wrap my arms around him. Leaning in, I whisper in his ear, “Dream about Jedi puppies.”
“I thought Luci was eating with me too,” he says, a hint of disappointment in his voice as he walks over to Easton after I release him.
Mrs. Walters quickly interjects, “Not tonight, Cole. Follow Baker into the dining room.”
His shoulders droop slightly, but he waves goodbye to me before taking Baker’s hand. I return the wave until he disappears from sight. My eyes dart back to the brothers, and the annoyance radiating from Easton is palpable.
“That’s his new nanny?” I overhear him ask coldly, and my heart sinks. Clearly, someone neglected to share my name with him, though it’s likely he doesn’t care to know. Perhaps he’s just not an involved parent.
I manage to slip out the front door within minutes, desperate to escape the tension. As I drive home, I mentally list potential job opportunities, knowing that the nanny and pet-sitting agency hasn’t had any new postings lately. The Ice Kings will probably dismiss me before I even step foot into work tomorrow.
All morning, I’m on edge, anticipating the moment I’ll be fired. Thankfully, I don’t have classes with the athletes today; the thought of facing them while feeling this anxious makes my stomach churn.
As I walk out of my last class, I’m surprised to find no messages on my phone. There’s just enough time to grab lunch and prepare to pick up Cole. I also need to type up some homework, but with two hours to spare, that should be manageable. For the first time today, I feel somewhat organized and in control. Maybe this anxious energy is good for me.
That feeling lasts until I turn the corner outside, only to nearly collide with half of the football team. Coach Frank Humphries is among them, and the moment he spots me, his mouth tightens into a grim line. He begins marching toward me, and for a fleeting second, I consider making a run for it. I’m surprisingly quick, even with my backpack weighing me down, but I stand my ground instead.
“Forrester…make sure you graduate this year so you can get the f**k away from my campus,” he growls as he brushes past me.
His misplaced anger is infuriating, and I want to shout back at him.
Once they pass, I continue down the sidewalk toward the parking lot, reminding myself to keep my head up and not stare at my feet. Fortunately, I look up just in time to see the Reed brothers gathered at the end of the path. Do they always stick together like that? I quickly backtrack to avoid them.