Chapter Fourteen

"Malone! Phone call!"

Aaron slid to a stop, his head swiveling in surprise. Phone call? What the fuck? He didn't get phone calls. And he especially didn't get phone calls when they were on the road, during game-day skate. Nobody got phone calls.

Immediately following that thought came another, this one curdling his stomach as fear squeezed his lungs.

Nobody got phone calls…unless it was an emergency.

He sprinted toward the bench, damn near tripping as he jumped the boards and shook off his gloves. Coach Torresi was standing there, holding the cell phone out to Aaron, an inscrutable look on his face.

"Make it quick."

Aaron nodded, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat as he pushed the helmet off his head. He moved into the tunnel, steadying himself with one hand braced against the concrete block wall, and brought the phone to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Aaron, it's Mom. Nothing's wrong. Nothing you need to worry about."

Fear released its stranglehold on his lungs. He drew in a deep breath as relief flooded him. Two seconds later, the fear was back. His mother wouldn't be calling if there wasn't anything wrong.

"What happened?"

"There's just been a little situation at the middle school. Brooke is fine. Nobody's hurt. But I need to go down there and I won't be able to get to your place in time to meet Isabelle's bus."

Aaron closed his eyes, his mind trying to make sense of the words. The only thing he could focus on right now was the fact that nobody was hurt. He reached up, pinched the bridge of his nose, and inhaled.

Situation. There was a situation at the school.

With Brooke.

Anger threatened to overtake him. Damn her. What the hell had she done now? And why? Things had seemed to be improving these last two weeks, ever since their trip to the Air and Space Museum. What the hell had happened to change that?

Then his mother's words about Isabelle's bus sunk in. The elementary school had early dismissal today, letting out three hours before the middle and high schools. He glanced around, searching the bare walls for a clock before lowering the phone and looking at the time at the top of the screen.

Isabelle would be home in thirty minutes.

And nobody would be there to meet her.

"Fuck!"

He heard what sounded like a low laugh, realized he had sworn out loud—right into the phone. And straight into his mother's ear. "I'm sorry—"

"Like I haven't said worse myself."

"I have no idea what to do. I can't get down there—"

"Well of course not. You're in Rochester. I just called to get Savannah's number, to see if she could meet with Isabelle and stay with her until I got there."

"I can't ask her to do that."

"You won't be asking her if you give me her number. And I'm sure she won't mind. Now, what's her number?"

"I, uh, I don't know what it is."

Silence greeted his admission, followed a long sigh. "Aaron, I'm disappointed. You're sleeping with the woman and you don't even have her number?"

Holy fucking shit, he did not just hear that. His mother did not just say that. No fucking way. He glanced around, hoping like hell that nobody was nearby to witness the heat of humiliation spreading across his face.

Or worse, close enough to hear his mother's voice through the phone.

No such luck, because Torresi was standing at the end of the tunnel, his arms folded in front of him. He didn't give Aaron any indication that he'd heard—which meant absolutely nothing.

Aaron turned, shifting so his back was toward the coach, and lowered his voice.

"I didn't say I didn't have it. I said I didn't know it. It's in my phone."

"Then can you call her? I need to get down to the school and this will save me time."

"I—" He stopped, glanced over his shoulder at Coach Torresi, then turned back around. "Yeah. I'll call her."

"Perfect. I know you're at practice so I'll let you go now."

"Call me later to let me know what's going on?" He waited for an answer but didn't hear anything. He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen. She had ended the call already.

Of course, she had.

"Everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah." He handed the phone back to Coach Torresi then looked in the direction of the locker room. Fuck. This was going to go over well. "I have a, uh, a childcare issue. I need to make a phone call. Just a quick one."

Was it his imagination, or did the coach's mouth twitch, like he was trying not to smile? No, it had to be his imagination.

"Go. You've got two minutes, then I want your ass back on the ice."

"Yes, Coach." Aaron hurried down the hallway, the blades of his skates making an odd squeaking-squishing noise against the rubber mat. Fuck. What would he do if Savannah wasn't home? What would he do if she couldn't get Isabelle from the bus and watch her? He didn't want to put her in an awkward position, even though he was almost positive she'd say yes.

Maybe.

But fuck, it wasn't like he had much choice. And he didn't even want to think about what he'd do if she weren't home.

Call Courtney? Maybe.

He just hoped like hell that Savannah was home, and that she wouldn't mind.

He hadn't had a chance to see her much the last couple of weeks, not with practices and games and taking care of the girls. And when he had seen her, she'd been a little preoccupied. Maybe even a little distant. He'd been too busy to give it much thought, hadn't taken the time to ask.

Because he was a fucking idiot.

He pushed through the locker room door and headed straight to his assigned cubby, pulling his bag from the shelf and digging through it. He grabbed his phone, powered it up, surprised to see there weren't any waiting voicemails. Had the school called his mother first?

Probably.

What the hell had Brooke done?

Part of him was afraid to find out.

He pushed all the worst-case scenarios from his mind as he scrolled through his contacts, tapping Savannah's number then holding the phone to his ear. It rang once. Twice. Three times. Fuck. She was busy. Or she wasn't home. Or she was in a meeting and couldn't answer the phone or—

"This is Savannah. May I help you?"

He closed his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief. "Hey. It's me. Aaron. Um, are you busy?"

"No, just working on another presentation. What's up? I thought you were on the road today?"

"Yeah, I am. Listen, there's been a problem at Brooke's school. My mom's on the way there now, which means she won't be at my place to get Isabelle off the bus. The elementary school gets out early today."

"Is everything okay with Brooke? Did something happen to her?"

"I don't know, Mom didn't say. Sounds like she got into trouble. I hate to ask but—is there any way you can get Isabelle off the bus and wait with her until my mom gets there?"

"Um…"

He held his breath, waiting, wondering at the hesitation he heard in her voice.

"Yeah. I can do that."

"You sure? If there's something else you need to do, let me know. I can try to call Courtney and—"

"No, it's good. I don't have plans until later tonight."

Aaron frowned, ready to ask her what plans. He stopped himself at the last minute, telling himself it wasn't his business.

Yeah. That's why his back teeth were grinding together.

He sucked in a deep breath, forced his jaw to unclench. "Great. Thanks. I owe you."

"Not a problem. That's what friends are for."

His jaw clenched again and he had to concentrate even harder to relax it this time. "Yeah. Sure. There's a key to the patio door in one of those small magnet boxes tucked under the grill. On the right-hand side."

"Okay. What time does her bus get here?"

"Um—" He pulled the phone away from his ear and checked the time, then softly swore. "In about fifteen minutes."

"Okay, I'll start heading over. Do you need me to do anything else? Does she need lunch or anything?"

"If my mom's not there in the next hour, maybe. But other than that, no."

"Sounds good. I'll head over now—"

"Actually, there is one thing you can do for me."

"Yeah?" Had her voice changed? Become a little more excited maybe? No, she was probably just walking, already heading to his place.

"Make sure my mom calls me and tells me what's going on? She didn't know. Or wouldn't say, I'm not sure which. I'm going to be thinking the worst until I hear."

There was a short pause, then he heard what sounded like a door opening and closing. Her voice sounded a little distant, maybe a little preoccupied. "Sure. No problem. I'll have her call you."

"Thanks, Savannah. I owe you one." He heard her mumble something then the call disconnected. He frowned at the screen, wondering what the fuck he had just missed.

And wondering what kind of plans Savannah had later.