I’m smiling as we finish the run, which actually turned into more of a walk than a run, albeit a brisk one. These kids haven’t been lucky enough to be on team sports or even been in PE classes since they haven’t been in school regularly, so I knew it wasn’t going to be much of a run. Still, they were troopers and they all were interested in technique and tips. I had a good time and I think they did too, which makes me really happy I didn’t bail like I contemplated after making out with Brie.

I feel a wave of panic just thinking about it again. Colisse, I swear at myself, what the hell was I thinking? I mean honestly, just last week I thought she was the most irritating person on the planet. She started to grow on me when she came to my rescue, well Mac’s rescue, but then she got all nosy and pushy and I was back to being irritated. Then…I touched her. I’ve touched a lot of girls, with intent and without intent, and this candid moment of saving her from tripping, it was like I was hit with those defibrillator paddles at the hospital. Every single part of me, every nerve and every cell was jolted alive. With desire. I would have pulled her to the floor in her hall and done a hell of a lot more than kiss her if it wasn’t for two things—the sound of that toilet flushing reminding me Mac was just feet away and the fact that this woman isn’t one-night stand material, and that’s all I know how to do.

Mac is staring up at me with a weird look on her face, which I’ve noticed even after just a week, is filling out. She looks healthier. I glance down at her. “What?”

“Were you at Brie’s house after the game the other night?”

“What? Why?”

Oh shit, if Mac saw anything I will truly die.

“I thought I heard your voice.”

“I…Umm…Yeah…I was, I guess.”

Her face twists into a mix of sarcasm and judgment in a way that only a teenager can accomplish. “You guess?”

“I was. For a second.”

“Why?”

We’ve reached Daphne’s now and so I stop and say a personal good-bye to each of the kids who came on the run. They all head inside except Mac who is clearly not going to let this go. She’s still looking up at me with an expectant look on her face. “I wanted to clear up something with Brie.”

“At like midnight?” That look is on her face again. God, this kid is too smart for her own good.

“It wasn’t midnight,” I reply defensively. “And even if it was, I’m an adult. So is she, so we can have late-night conversation. It’s no big deal.”

She smiles. Doesn’t speak, just smiles and somehow that feels even more judgy and sarcastic than the look she was giving me before. She turns and heads into the house. “I’m going to take Len’s budgeting class this afternoon.”

“Cool. Have fun. Tell her hi,” I say casually as she climbs the stairs to the front door.

“You can tell her yourself,” I hear Len’s voice behind me.

As Mac disappears inside I turn and see Len walking up the sidewalk behind me. She’s smiling conspiratorially so I know she knows about the kiss before she even says a word. I must look as embarrassed as I feel because she lets out a soft, sympathetic chuckle and pats my arm as she stops in front of me. “It’s okay. I’m not going to chew you out for your late-night kiss stealing.”

“I didn’t steal it,” I mumble, my eyes firmly glued to a crack in the sidewalk between our shoes. “She gave it to me.”

Len laughs again. “When you take it and run, it’s stealing.”

I finally pull my eyes off the pavement and look at her. “I left because I needed to stop it from going any further. Mac was there and…”

I can’t seem to figure out how to finish that sentence so Len decides to help me. “And you didn’t want her to hear you two getting it on? But also you weren’t sure you should get it on right now?”

I nod but feel heat creep over my face. “Brie is great but—”

“She’s fantastic,” Len interrupts. “No buts about it.”

I nod. “But I’m not boyfriend material and she’s not the casual type.”

Len rolls her eyes so hard she looks like she’s having a seizure. “Oh come on. Don’t pretend that you’re some stereotypical hockey jock who wants nothing more than to get his hockey stick wet. You’re not. I already know that. Those types don’t volunteer with orphaned kids and they don’t save girls like Mackenzie from the street.”

“You’re right. I’m not like that,” I argue back. “But I’m not the type of guy Brie wants either.”

She frowns. “Shouldn’t you be talking to her about what she wants?”

“I will,” I say. “I’m on my way there now.”

Len looks disappointed. “Alex, I have to say if you truly feel that way then you’re right. Brie has been through enough in her life. I don’t want her to deal with a player. She’s better than that.”

I nod, not in the least offended. “She is.”

“It’s just, the way you are with the kids and with Mackenzie especially, makes me think you’d understand her past and you’d get Brie on levels that Victor never did,” Len says quietly. “On levels even I don’t get her on.”

She adjusts the bag on her shoulder and turns and starts up the stairs. I should walk away, head over to Brie’s and forget this conversation, but I can’t. I stare at her and as she digs out her key fob to open the front door I call out, “What’s her past?”

“That’s for her to tell you, not me,” Len replies firmly and now the smile she’s giving me is less friendly, less warm. “And she won’t. If you won’t let her in, she won’t let you in.”

She disappears into Daphne’s House. I pull out my phone to call a Lyft to head to Brie’s. What in the world could have happened in Brie’s past that Len thinks only someone as broken and fucked up as me would “get” her? Then again, Len might not know my past. She probably just sees me as a rich athlete. Let’s face it, most kids who play hockey grow up in comfortable families because hockey is not a cheap hobby and it costs even more if you’re trying to get your kid into the NHL with off-season training sessions and what not. I doubt my history has anything in common with a girl who spent her summers in that mansion in the Hamptons.

My phone starts ringing as I wait for my ride and I see Rose’s name on the call display. As soon as I answer there’s a trio of voices blurting things out.

“It’s Rose, Callie and Jessie! We’ve got you on speaker,” Rose says.

“We’re calling about that dinner we invited you and Brie to,” Callie pipes up.

“We’ve decided it’s going to be a small party instead,” Jessie adds. “At your house.”

“What?”

“Your new apartment,” Callie clarifies. “A housewarming.”

“Don’t worry,” Rose adds before I can say no. “We’ll do everything from invitations to food. You just have to text me your address.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Housewarmings are imperative or else it’s not a house. It’s just four walls and a roof,” Callie insists. “So if you don’t give us your address, I’ll make Devin do it.”

“It’s happening Alex,” Jessie assures me. “Friday after you guys come home from your game in Chicago. So try not to get punched for once. I want the steak to be for the guests, not a black eye.”

“Address?” Rose demands in a happy singsong voice but it’s still a demand.

I sigh as loud as I can so they know I am not pleased, even though I don’t think it matters to them in the slightest. I give them my address and I can actually hear them high-fiving each other in victory. Jesus, these girls are forces of nature, like tornados or hurricanes or tsunamis.

“Thanks, Rue,” Callie says happily. “You won’t regret it!”

“I already do!” I reply, but they’ve hung up.

I sigh. What fresh hell is this?