Icebound (Boundless Players)

“Get out,” I demand, pointing to the broken door. I’ll have to go to the hardware store to fix it later. “Actually? No. We’re all leaving.”

I shove Cruz and Patty out of the bathroom, leaving Nina to finish changing in private. I need to get out of there because being that close to her is making it hard to breathe.

The conversation we had in the bathroom is deeper than any conversation I’ve had on a date. I had no idea she’s been through so much. It took everything in me not to let my eyes drop to her tits while she was talking, and I feel like a jackass for that.

I’m still angry with my cat for scratching her back, but a twisted part of me likes that I was the one to patch her up.

What kind of man does that make me?

I’m not going to think about that because then I’m going to have to think about why I dug through my closet until I found my old, favorite sweatshirt to give to her, even though I did laundry yesterday.

It definitely smells like my sweat, but I don’t want Nina to smell like Ocean Breeze laundry detergent—I want her to smell like me. I’m worse than an animal, apparently, marking her with my scent like I’ve got some claim on her when I don’t.

She’s eleven years younger than me. I’ve got no business looking at her, but I can’t seem to stop.

Chicken scurries across my floor, and I scoop him into my arms, nuzzling him for a second. I’m tempted to squeeze the hell out of him, but I still love the little guy even when he’s being a dick. He jumps out of my arms and heads to his cat castle.

Cruz rifles through the grocery bags on my kitchen counter. “Damn, and here I thought Phil would be the one scratching up your back, not the other way around.”

“Stop talking about Nina, and she told you to stop calling her Phil,” I grit out. “Respect that.”

“Have you not taken a shit today or what?” He looks up from a plastic bag. “And what’s going on with you two? I thought you said you weren’t into her.”

“Nothing’s going on. My cat scratched up her back, so I was helping her out. I’m taking her to a sponsorship event. That’s all.”

I need a distraction from Nina, so I tickle Betty’s tiny belly until she giggles. “Hi, baby girl, look at you getting so big. What’s your daddy been feeding you?”

Patty kisses her fuzzy blond head. “Smashed chickpeas and blueberries. They’re her favorite. She’s so strange, but she’s mine, and she’s in the ninety-fifth percentile for height, so I don’t care.”

I slap his shoulder. “That’s great, Pat—”

Cruz cracks open a bag of tortilla chips. “Did I tell you about the suction on this girl’s mouth from the other night? Unreal. I clogged up her vocal cords, but she kept on going like a fucking plunger.”

Glaring at Cruz, Patty drops Betty into the highchair I bought for when he visits. “You know, sometimes, you should think about the things you’re going to say before you say them.”

“But then I’d never say them.” Cruz tosses up a chip and opens his mouth.

“That’s the point.” I snatch it out of the air and eat it myself. “You better be getting on your knees for these women and thanking them.”

He grabs another chip. “Trust me. I returned the favor. Three fucking times. Eating pussy’s hard work. My tongue’s still sore.”

“Stop cursing,” Patty says. “My daughter’s first word is not going to be f-u-c-k.”

Cruz puts away the groceries we got for fish tacos because he gets an eye twitch if someone so much as sets a drink down without a coaster.

“Look, I’ll try to control myself, but I can’t make any promises. Asking me not to curse is like asking me not to jack off.” Cruz wiggles his dark brows at me. “Maybe Phil can help me out next time. I’m sure we’d have fun playing together.”

I pick up a foam football and hurl it at him. “She’s not a fucking toy, Cruz.”

Patty groans. “Language!”

Cruz snatches it out of the air. “I know she’s not a toy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t play with her, unless… you want her?”

“I don’t want her,” I lie, like that will convince my brain.

“I deep-throatedly disagree with that comment,” Cruz says.

“What’s that even mean?” Patty smashes a blueberry, letting Betty eat it off his finger.

“Whole-heartedly didn’t feel like a strong enough word choice.” Cruz shrugs. “Does this mean Phil’s fair game?”

My hands ball into fists. Cruz doesn’t take anything but hockey seriously, and they clearly get along great because they’re the same age. Nina can make her own decisions, but I don’t want those choices shoved in my face like a win from our biggest rival.

I dart my eyes to the closed bathroom door before striding over to Cruz. He’s tall, but I’ve got an inch on him, so I make sure to look down. “I’m only going to say this once. I know you’re friends, so I’m asking you to do this for me. Find someone else.”

He flashes me a wicked grin. “Damn, look at your face. This is gonna be a hell of a lot of fun, isn’t it?”

A door shuts, and we snap our heads to find Nina striding out of the bathroom in my massive sweatshirt that goes to her thighs. Some feral part of me purrs like my cat at the sight of her wearing my clothes.

I like that image a little too much.

Cruz spots Nina, and with a quick wink in my direction, he wraps her in a bear hug and swings her around my living room. A sharp stab slams through me, so I focus on Betty slapping her highchair table.

“Phil! It’s so good to see you, pretty girl. I’m a little offended you didn’t keep tabs on me after high school, but whatever. I’ll let it go this time.”

If he calls her pretty girl all night, I’m shoving that entire bag of chips down his throat.

Nina’s small grunt of surprise is muffled against his chest, and in a move that makes me want to bodycheck Cruz into the boards, she jumps up, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Micah Cruz, look at you, you got huge! And fine, you can call me Phil. That’s better than pretty girl.”

Nina sucks in a breath when he pulls her closer, and I have to look away because that has me thinking about the breathy noises she made in the kitchen.

I scrub a hand over my jaw, but nothing’s going to erase that moment. I’m not even sure I want it to leave my head, until I remember she’s a year younger than Cruz, and then I want to punch my brain for having the thought.

Cruz finally sets her back down, and smirks at me over her head. “You know, in brighter lighting, you kind of look old enough to be her dad, Tremblay. I think it’s the gray that does it.”

Patty throws the foam football at the back of his head. “Don’t be a d-i-c-k.”

“Yeah, don’t be an asshole. Rhode’s still young.” Nina drops onto the wooden barstool next to me, squeezing my shoulder. I lurch away like her touch is an open flame. Her hands might as well be with the way fire rushes to my dick.

“You know who’s younger?” Cruz smiles down at her with a glint in his eyes.

Glaring at him, I grip the leg of the stool and pull her closer to my side, so Cruz gets the point. The loud, slow scrape echoes through my apartment. Chicken scatters across the rug. Even Betty quirks her little head at the noise.

Nina pushes her gold glasses up her nose. “Was that really necessary?”

“It was very necessary.” I keep my eyes on Cruz, whose lips curve in a dare.

She tightens her ponytail. “Okay, anyway. I think me and Chicken are friends. My back’s stopped throbbing, but he let me pet him before running off, so I feel like that was an apology. Oh, and who’s this cutie?” She squeezes Betty’s tiny feet, but she may as well be squeezing my heart.

Patty smiles, lifting one of Betty’s hands to wave. “Nina, meet my daughter, Elizabeth, but we call her Betty because Patty and Betty is the stuff daddy-daughter dance competitions are made of. She’s eight months, twelve days, and fourteen hours old, loves blueberries, and she finally smiles when you make eye contact with her. Watch.” He plays peek-a-boo, and Betty starts giggling.

“She also does more than cry and shit now, so that’s fun,” Cruz adds.

Nina keeps her grin on Betty, but smacks Cruz’s arm. “Okay, she’s adorable. She looks just like you, Wyatt. Can I hold her?”

I try not to frown at the fact that she sort of called Patty adorable. He is, but fuck, I don’t want Nina thinking that about my friends.

“You can try, but fair warning, she’s kind of going through a stranger danger phase, where she doesn’t like anyone she doesn’t know holding her, but go for it… Maybe you’ll be the exception.”

Patty hands Betty over, and Nina holds her like a football. The girl’s not a natural, but she gets points for trying. Betty’s cute smile twists into a scowl, and she starts wailing.

Cruz covers his ears. “Fuck, make it stop.”

“Language!” Patty shouts, pointing a finger at Cruz.

Nina coos in her ear and tries to bounce Betty, but when that does shit-all for the crying, she hands her back to Patty. The girl instantly calms in his arms, nuzzling into his chest.

“Well,” Nina chuckles. “That could’ve gone better. I guess she doesn’t like me.”

“I would’ve been jealous if she liked you instantly. Took her months to warm up to me.” I nudge her shoulder and regret it a second later when I brush the side of her tits. Is she not wearing a bra? This dinner is going to be brutal.

“I warned you.” Patty snorts. “She’s probably not used to your smell. It’s not like we like everyone when we first meet them. I hated Cruz at first—”

“Dick.”

“Language,” Patty shouts. “But Cruz writes everyone on the team handwritten cards for their birthdays, so now he’s alright. Why should Betty have to be all friendly? My girl’s allowed to be a little mean.”

Patty grins at Betty in a way that makes me think if the world were to go up in flames, he wouldn’t notice. I frown, wishing I had someone to look at like that, and pull my gaze away to find Cruz staring at Nina’s chest.

I slap a hand on the counter to get his attention, and his eyes snap to mine. “What’s up, old man?”

“You did not just call Rhode that,” Nina interjects. “That’s so rude.”

I’m speechless for a second. No one’s ever come to my defense that fast besides Patty. Cruz rubs the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish. “Sorry, it’s just an old habit.”

“Called out.” Patty gives her a high five. “I like you, Nina. I’m glad you’re our good luck charm.”

“I’m not your good luck charm, but you can believe whatever you want. That was all you guys.”

Cruz stuffs another chip in his mouth. “Yeah, you are, and now you’ve got to come to our next home game and watch us play live.”

“No, I hate crowds,” she says.

I file that fact away under my mental cabinet with the name Nina Alstyne.

“Please, Phil?” Cruz begs.

She nudges him, and I scowl at where she touched his arm. “We’re not doing this again, you big flirt. I’m not going. You don’t need me to win. You’re fine.”

“Come on, please? No one ever comes to my games,” he says, getting on his knees and clasping his hands in front of her. “I’ll do anything. Anything.”

“She said no,” I interject in a hard voice, hating seeing Cruz on his knees for Nina.

She smiles at me, but then turns back to Cruz, giving him an exasperated look. “Can I think about it?”

“Sure, as long as you come.” Cruz winks in my direction. “To the game, I mean.”

I ball my hands into fists. If I have to listen to him make sexual innuendos all night, I’m going to lose my shit.

Cruz makes his way to the living room and drops down onto the couch, patting the cushion. “Now, come sit down, Phil. We’re gonna teach you some hockey terms, starting with the fact that it’s called the penalty box or the sin bin, not boy jail.”

She drops down next to him. Cruz says something low in Nina’s ear that makes her laugh. I turn my back, yanking open the fridge to stare at the fish taco ingredients for fuck knows how long.

I try to remind myself that it doesn’t matter that I’ll never find out if Nina tastes like cinnamon, or that every time she tucks her hair behind her ear, I get jealous of her fingers.

That’s lust.

Those are physical feelings that will go away when I find the right woman—someone who wants the same things as me. This isn’t anything deep. After the event, I need to get Nina out of my head because I can’t live feeling like I’m about to snap at any moment.

We spend the next hour cooking, and Nina keeps laughing at every fucking thing Cruz says, even though none of it’s funny. By the time dinner’s almost ready, I’m so wound up that I’ve burned at least five tortillas for the tacos.

“What a fucking pigeon!” Cruz shouts at the TV. He’s bouncing Betty on his knee, so they look damn near perfect together. She’s still got on my sweatshirt, though. “Toronto just scored. Wesley’s got a killer slap shot, so you better block ‘em when we play.”

“Language,” Patty groans. “My girl’s gonna have the dirtiest mouth if she keeps hanging around you.”

Nina catches my eye. “There’s nothing wrong with a girl who’s got a dirty mouth. Isn’t that right, Rhode?”

That teasing edge to her voice is going to be my undoing, and I want nothing more than to flirt back, but that’s not fair to either of us.

My traitor cock twitches in my sweats, and this material is way too thin to let that happen, so I subtly adjust myself. “Mm-hm.”

That cute, playful half-smile turns into a frown, and I hate myself a bit for pushing her away, but we’d never work long term.

Cruz gives her a high-five. “Oh shit, I forgot how much I like you, Phil. Don’t you like her, Tremblay?”

I give him my best withering glare, but all that does is make the kid’s grin widen. I’m acting like a grumpy fucker, but I have to stick to one-word answers, so I don’t lose it in front of Cruz.

I don’t know why Nina’s affecting me so much, but this can’t be normal. I’m starting to think it has everything to do with the fact that I need to get laid.

It’s been over a year since I’ve been with a woman, which is the only explanation for why I feel like my chest is about to burst when I look at Nina in my sweatshirt. I’m not going to mistake lust for some deeper emotion. That’s what got my father in trouble.

“Speaking of dirty things.” Cruz gags, lifting Betty in the air. “I think something died in your girl’s diaper, Patty-Daddy. Here. Take her. This stench is offensive.”

Patty holds up his red hands sprinkled with paprika. “Can you help me out? I’ve got seasoning all over me, and I want to make sure the fish doesn’t burn.”

He dangles Betty in the air. “You made her. You change her.”

“I’ll change her. Come here, baby girl.” I’ll take any distraction from Nina at this point, so I grab Betty from Cruz’s lap and sniff her tiny butt, grimacing. “What the hell are you feeding her, Patty? Straight cabbage?”

“It’s the chickpeas. Her digestive system can’t handle them, but she loves them, so I don’t want to deny my girl.” Patty rubs paprika on the mahi-mahi. “Thanks. I think I’ve changed seven, no, maybe eight, diapers today. Can you tell me what color it is too? Actually, just take a picture.”

The things parents do for their children. “Sorry, but I’m not taking a picture of your daughter’s shit.”

Nina stands from my leather couch. “I’ll do it. I’ve never changed a diaper in my life, but I can take a picture. Sounds like it might be a two-person job.”

“You know what else is a two-person job?” Cruz says. “Three people if you’re lucky?”

“Stop talking,” I say to him, facing Nina. “And you don’t have to come. I got this.”

She peers at me with those big, beautiful eyes. “I want to help.”

“Alright, then. Your call.” I hitch Patty’s orange diaper bag over my shoulder, prop Betty on my hip, and head to the guest room with Nina following. Her gaze feels like it’s singeing my back, but I don’t turn around.

I lay out the pink diaper mat with giraffes and set Betty on the soft padding, tickling her belly. She squeals. “Yeah, I’d be smiling too if I were you right now. I bet you feel a million pounds lighter.”

Nina’s laugh fills the room. “You’re a lot nicer to her than you have been to me tonight. I’d be jealous if she weren’t so cute.”

I grunt in response, unclipping Betty’s yellow onesie, but I can’t help myself. I glance up to see Nina watching me with a small smile. “What?”

She shrugs, and the motion makes her blonde hair shimmer in the light. Shimmer? Look at me turning into a poet. “Nothing. You just look like a natural. You’re going to make someone very happy one day, Rhode.”

Swallowing, I shift my gaze back to Betty. Yeah, I want mini versions of me skating around, but I also want them with the right person.

Betty’s got drool dribbling from her mouth, so I lift her onesie and wipe it away. “Do you want kids?”

“Honestly?” Nina plops down on my guest bed. “I haven’t thought much about kids. Right now? No, but I can’t decide what I want for dinner, much less how I’ll feel in ten years, so probably one day. I just want to focus on myself for now. Save money for my living expenses in Argentina.”

“What are you going to do after that?” I ask, needing to know more about her life.

“My dream’s to start my own studio one day, but I’ll need to save for that, so for now, I want to sell mugs and plates online. Teach classes on the side. I want time to figure out the rest of my life.”

That’s what I need—more time.

I’m impressed with her direction, but a pang of envy hits me. Once I latched onto my NHL dream, I never let go. Never got the chance to explore other options outside of the League.

Part of me always wonders who I would’ve been without hockey, but those days are behind me. It’s funny how sometimes dreams turn into jobs. I’m in my thirties, so it’s time to settle down.

“What about you?” She hands me another packet of Wet Wipes from the diaper bag. “Do you want kids?”

I pinch Betty’s tiny feet. “Yeah, I do.”

“Well, that shouldn’t be too hard since you could probably get someone pregnant by sneezing on them.”

I almost laugh, but I rein it in.

Nina hands me some rash cream. She’s quiet for a moment, but it feels like her thoughts are screaming at me. “Is everything okay, Rhode? You’ve barely looked at me all night, and you’re only giving me one-word answers. I’m not mad at your cat if that’s what this is about. My back feels fine now.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what’s wrong?” She pauses, twisting her hands in my comforter. “You don’t have to push me away if that’s what this is about… I know you don’t think about me like that anymore.”

She doesn’t have a clue how much I’m thinking about her, but I only want her because I can’t have her.

That’s all.

She needs to find someone her own age that enjoys doing goat yoga or some shit, but I’m not about to tell Nina that every time she touches Cruz, I want to tackle the kid. “I’m good.”

She hands me a clean diaper, and our fingers brush. Her touch feels like a shock, so I flex my hand.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “You can talk to me. I have big ears too.”

I battle the urge to grin at our inside joke. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

At least that’s not a lie. My body’s always aching. Gritting my jaw, I focus on changing Betty’s diaper, but Nina’s gaze burns my cheek.

“If you didn’t want me to come tonight, you could’ve said something. I’m not great at being in new places, so if you don’t want me here, I’ll go because it seems like I’m making you really uncomfortable. Do you want me here or not?”

Her words hit like a flying puck. I can’t concentrate when she’s in the room, and that’s on me, but I’ve got a headache from clenching my jaw so hard. I don’t want to be the one to tell her to leave, so I end up staring at her with an open mouth while Betty kicks her tiny legs.

Nina’s neck turns splotchy, and her breathing becomes ragged like she’s just finished a tough workout.

She reaches for her bag and grabs a piece of cinnamon gum, stuffing it into her mouth. She chews like her life depends on it and suddenly leaps from the bed. “You know what? I’ll go. I’ll see you at the event next weekend. Good luck with your games.”

I mutter a curse. “Nina, wait.”

She pauses with her hand on the doorknob. “What?”

I don’t know what to say. All I wanted was for her not to leave, but she should go. I’ll be able to breathe again once this girl’s gone, but I don’t want her thinking I’m mad at her.

“Thank you, Nina. For coming to the sponsorship event with me. I know you didn’t have to, and these past couple of years have been rough, so it means a lot.”

Part of me wants to tell her not to come to the event, but I don’t want to risk screwing anything up with Andrea. It’s not that big of a deal if I’m not on her arm, but I can’t bring myself to take back my invitation—even if people are judging the hell out of me for bringing a college student as my date.

“You’re welcome, but I’m going to head out. See you there.” She smiles, but it doesn’t make those cute half-moons appear under her eyes. Nina strides out the door like I just set the room on fire, leaving me in the ashes.

I stare down at Betty sucking her thumb. “You don’t think I’m an asshole, do you, baby girl?”

She starts crying, and by the time she stops three hours later, it feels like my ears are bleeding. Parenting might be tougher than I thought.

I blame that for the reason it took me so long to notice Nina left my favorite sweatshirt folded neatly by the door.