Page 11 of My One & Goalie
“Impressive.” I do a quick once-over of his room. Hockey posters line the stark white walls and he has a Boston Blades bedspread, tiny hockey players skating over the white cotton.
“You must love hockey, huh?”
He grins up at me with a gap-toothed smile. “I do. I want to be a hockey player when I grow up. Just like you.”
My chest squeezes tight at his youthful innocence, enthusiasm shining in his bright blue eyes.
“Work hard and you’ll get there. You skate really well.”
“Thanks!” He bounces on his knees, smiling even wider.
A loud pounding noise comes from the living room, followed by the creak of the front door.
“What’s going on, Rachel! I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all night,” an angry, deep voice booms.
“You can’t just barge in, Charles!” Rachel matches his volume. “And you have not. I had one text from you, hours ago.”
“Where’s Jett?” The voice gets closer and I stand, inching away from Jett.
“In his room. What are you doing here, anyway?”
“You’d know if you picked up your damn phone.”
A man in a suit freezes in the doorway of Jett’s room.
“Who the hell are you?” He frowns at me, and my fists instantly ball.
“Xander Kovac. And you are?”
“Charles Allen. Jett’s dad.”
CHAPTER 6
RACHEL
Oh shit.
The last thing I need is my ex getting up in arms about a man in the apartment. Especially since the man in question happens to be a gorgeous pro hockey star.
“What’s a strange guy doing in our son’s room, Rachel?” Charles whips around on me, cold eyes flashing with fury.
Charles gives me more than enough grief over ALL the things as is. I’m not about to sit here and listen to him spew a lecture on what I can and can’t do with Jett.
“Out. Now.” I hook my thumb at the hallway, and Xander shuffles toward the door.
“I didn’t mean you, Xander. You’re welcome to stay.” I fold my arms over my chest and seethe at Charles. “We need to talk, Charles.”
“I’m gonna get going.” Xander shoves a large hand in his pocket. “Thanks for showing me your room, Jett. See you at practice.”
Bending down, he ruffles Jett’s hair and Jett beams up at him.
“You’re welcome, Coach. See ya!” My sweet, tender-hearted child shoots him a wave and a gappy smile, oblivious to the sudden chill in the air.
Xander moves past me, our shoulders brushing, and I swear electricity crackles between us. Charles’s eyes flick to mine, then to Xander’s retreating backside, and his scowl deepens.
“Don’t,” I warn, my voice low as I stalk out behind Xander. Hot anger bubbles inside me and I hate Charles even more than usual in this moment. He has a knack for showing up at the worst possible time—where was the asshole when my car died?
Although then I wouldn’t have spent the evening with Xander. Of course, here he is now, spoiling the rest of the evening.