Page 27 of Face Off With Fate

Their pictures reminded me of why I was going along with this.

I let out a deep breath, hoping I’d exhale some of the doubt, too.

Time to stop being a little bitch.

My team won because of our ability to adapt when shit hit the fan—to skate a good game when nothing went as planned. I needed to do the same.

I dropped into the chair, letting my head fall into my hands.

“Wow, this is really nice.”

My head popped up at Graciella’s voice.

“Did you know there’s a whole laundromat here? Can anyone on staff use it?” She hitched a thumb toward the hall.

My brow shot up. How far had she wandered in the few seconds she was out of sight?

“Yeah, that’s where all the players’ gear and stuff get cleaned. Why would you need to use the laundry here?” I leaned back, the familiar leather hugging me.

“Don’t have one where I’m staying, and bringing it here would be so much better than to a laundromat.” Her nose wrinkled.

“What do you have against those?”

I didn’t know why I was bothering with this conversation. We had work to do, and the sooner we got through it, the sooner she’d be out of my hair.

“Oh, I don’t have anything against them.” She ran her fingertip over the spines of the books on my shelves. “But I don’t have the patience to stay there for hours. I feel like less of my underwear would be stolen if I did my laundry here.”

A growl slipped out, and I gripped the edge of my desk. Surprised the wood didn’t dent under my fingertips. “You have your underwear stolen?” Images of brightly colored lace invade my head.

Jesus Christ. Not the time. Not the woman.

“There’s also a chance I just misplace them. That happens to people, too.” Her voice cut through my internal battle.

“No, that doesn’t happen to people.”

She rolled her eyes, picking up an old medal I’d won in college. The buttery yellow of her nails looked soft against the gold.

“Okay, Mr. Know-it-all. I bet there are plenty of people out there who misplace their underwear.” She moved on to a photo of Goldie on her bike. A smile bloomed across her face, a little chuckle slipping out.

She looked comfortable interacting with my space—my kid. Like she’d always done it.

A zap shot through my chest, and I rubbed right over my heart.

The hell is wrong with me?

Thirty-three was young, but I swore every day my body did something new and weird to make me feel old. A few years ago, I was slamming people into the boards and skating away without an issue. Now, if I got up too quickly my back would tweak, and I apparently had chest pains that needed monitoring.

Maybe I’d had too much coffee? Lack of sleep over the last few days had me chugging two to three cups, like I was back in my early twenties.

“Hello, earth to Monroe.” Graciella waved the stupid pom pom of her pen in my face.

I blinked, my brain registering her words. “Sorry, what?”

“Wasn’t sure if you spaced out or were purposely ignoring the question.” She’d sat herself in one of the spare chairs, pen tip pressed to what I was learning was her ever-present notebook. “I asked what you look for in a significant other. I need this for when I’m vetting the applicants.”

I froze.

The question settled in my gut like a rock. I hadn’t thought about what I wanted in a partner since…well, since ever, but especially since Golds was born. Other than an occasional hookup on the road, there hadn’t been anyone in my life.