Learn Your Lesson: A Single Dad Hockey Romance (Kings of the Ice)

Chloe

In the first full week of living with Will and Ava, I learned three things.

One — my mission to make the two of them smile or, God forbid, laugh would prove more difficult than I thought.

It was like living with Sadness from Inside Out, except neither of them was capable of showing even that kind of emotion. They just sort of floated about with scowls on their faces, even when they declared they were “happy” and “having a good day.”

When Will was home for dinner, I’d crack jokes, make them both play silly games with me, and use my napkin to fashion the most ridiculous hats on my head.

The only reaction I got was the two of them sharing a look like I was crazy.

When it was just me and Ava, whether we were on our way to or from school or hanging around the house or watching a hockey game, I was just as unsuccessful. It didn’t matter if we were playing or painting or swimming in the heated pool — getting Ava to do anything more than smirk was impossible.

Not even dipping my head underwater and brushing my hair forward, only to emerge and flip it over so I looked like George Washington, did the trick. She’d simply blinked at me, and then floated on her back like the sky was much more interesting.

Still, I wasn’t giving up — not on either of them.

One day, I would make them laugh.

The second thing I learned was that my morning routine was much, much different from Will’s.

My mornings were slow, lazy, and then absolutely chaotic and rushed in the last ten minutes before I had to go out the door.

I usually laid in bed reading for a half hour before I’d drag myself to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and, on the good days, washing my face. If it was a morning Will wasn’t around, I’d go in to help Ava get ready for school, and Arushi — er, Chef Patel — was usually yelling at us for taking too long to get ready when we were eating our breakfast on the way out the door instead of at the table like she wanted.

When I didn’t have to help Ava, I’d listen to a podcast and drink tea until Chef was knocking on my sliding glass door with the butt of her spatula, a warning glare on her beautiful face.

Either way, I was usually rushing out the door with Ava in tow.

Will, on the other hand, woke up three hours before he had to be anywhere — and he had a strict routine that he followed.

Because the time he woke up depended largely on how late he got to bed the night before, I’d witnessed all the various stages of his routine. After a week, I could easily surmise the order.

First, he’d drink a full glass of water. Sometimes I watched this from the safety of the pool house, and other times, I’d have a front row show at the kitchen island. I’d have to pretend I was helping Ava pack up her backpack and not watching the way his throat constricted, or how his pajama pants hung from his hips in a way that made me feel like I needed to do a set of Hail Marys.

Next, he’d change into athletic shorts and usually nothing else, moving out onto the turf that lined the far edge of the pool. He’d sit and meditate for twenty minutes or so, and then transition into a yoga flow — one I found incredibly distracting when I was getting my supplies ready for the day in the pool house.

For a few days, I didn’t know where he went after that portion of his routine. It wasn’t until halfway through the week when I needed him to sign a permission slip for Ava to go on a field trip that I found him in the gym connected to the garage…

Jump roping.

It was a sight I would be hard pressed to ever forget. 2000s hip-hop music blasted through the space filled with weightlifting equipment, and when I walked in, I found him in the middle of the room, shirtless, his tan body glistening with sweat, his gaze hard and focused as he jumped rope faster than I’d ever seen anyone do before.

But he wasn’t just jumping rope like a warm up.

It was an entire cardio workout.

He’d jump regularly, then one foot at a time, then both, then whip the rope back and forth before jumping in a circle to the beat of the music.

My perverted brain couldn’t help but warp time from my vantage point at the gym entrance. I saw it all in slow motion — the way the taut, thick muscles of his abdomen and chest rippled each time he landed on the concrete floor, how his hair was dampened at the edges, the way the muscles of his forearms and shoulders ebbed and flowed with each swipe of that rope.

It was pornographic.

And when he realized I was there, when he noticed I was watching, he didn’t stop.

In fact, I swore I saw a smirk on those plump lips of his before he turned away from me, finishing his reps like he didn’t mind the audience.

After his workout, he’d meet us in the kitchen. And where Ava and I typically had the same breakfast, Chef Patel always had a special one for him — one loaded with lean protein, whole grains, and a pile of fruits or vegetables.

I also had a sneaky suspicion that he had a skin and hair routine somewhere in there, because by the time he showed at the breakfast table, his face was glowing, his hair so shiny it looked like it was out of a Pantene commercial.

Needless to say, I did not mind bearing witness to any portion of Will’s routine — not in the slightest.

And that was the third thing I learned that week.

I liked watching Will Perry.

And I was fairly certain he liked watching me, too.

• • •

“Livia, you could at least pretend to help,” Maven said, a smile on her lips even as she rolled her eyes at her best friend — who was currently lying on the floor beside me, swiping through her phone, feet kicked up on the couch.

“And you could stop pretending you can’t afford to pay an event planner to do this shit for you,” she shot back.

Grace laughed, picking up a dried rose and tossing it at Livia. It landed on her forehead, making her flinch, but she just daintily swiped it away before smiling and getting back to whatever she was doing on her phone.

We were currently a half-hour into carefully packing the most gorgeous and elaborate wedding invitations I’d ever seen. They weren’t just a slip of paper tucked inside an envelope. Instead, Vince had made hundreds of beautifully unique clay pots, and we were filling them with seeds so guests could turn their invite into a house plant. We also threw in dried flowers and crystals, and of course, the invitation. Even that piece alone was stunning, an opaque, gold-foiled vellum with gorgeous script overlaying luxurious lavender card stock.

The four of us were sitting around a beautiful coffee table in the middle of Maven and Vince’s beach house. The evening had been sprung on me in the form of Vince and Jaxson showing up at the house and forcing Will to go with them to a pizza arcade — one they’d rented out for the evening — and of course, bringing Ava along.

Maven and Livia had then introduced me to Grace before promptly piling into Maven’s car and dragging me with them.

It had been impossible not to fidget the entire car ride, even despite the way every single one of them went out of their way to make me feel welcome into their group. Still, as nervous as I was, I also couldn’t contain my excitement.

They weren’t dragging me out to a bar, but to Maven’s home.

We weren’t going out to dance, but rather were staying in to craft.

I mean… this was right up my alley.

“She does make a fair point,” Grace said, assessing the box she’d packed with an unsure wrinkle of her nose. She tilted her head to the side. “I’m not exactly killing it over here.”This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

Maven peeked at the atrocity before glancing at her own, and she let out a puff of a laugh, abandoning the ribbon she’d been tying around her invitation and sitting back on her hands. “Oh, who am I kidding? I hate crafts.”

“Says the woman who will spend hours in the garden,” Livia shot.

“That’s different! My plants are my babies. This…” she said, lifting up the last invitation she’d done with the ribbon looking like one of my students tied it. “Is anything but.”

“Can we please abandon ship, then, and go drink a bottle of wine on the beach?” Livia sat up, tossing her phone on the couch. “It’s supposed to get cold tomorrow.”

“Sixty-five degrees is not cold,” Grace said. “Come to Michigan this time of year and you can tell me about cold.”

“No, thank you,” Livia said.

Maven tossed in the towel. “Alright. I’ll grab the wine. And tomorrow, I’m hiring an event planner.”

“Praise the Lord,” Livia said.

But then, her eyes bulged out of her head, and she smacked me across the arm so hard I yelped.

“Look at this bitch!” she said, and then she smoothed my arm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to hit you so hard, but damn, girl! What are you, a craft wizard?!”

The other girls gathered around to see where I’d perfectly packed four boxes. Each invitation was assembled with precision, the ribbons tied elegantly, the dried flowers arranged just so. I’d carefully surrounded the clay pots Vince had made with the crinkled packing paper Maven had, and made it so when the guest opened the box, it was like unwrapping a beautiful gift.

“A kindergarten teacher,” I answered, clearing my throat when my voice came out so soft I sounded like a mouse.

Talking to kids? Easy. Teasing Will? Fine. But apparently, I was awestruck by these gorgeous women and the confidence they wore as easily as the stiletto heels on their feet.

“And also, a homebody who happens to love picking up a new project every week.”

Grace smiled. “I love that. As someone always on the go, I really appreciate the chance to sit still and be at home in my own space.”

“You wouldn’t know how to sit still if Jaxson tied you to a chair,” Maven said.

Grace shimmied her shoulders. “That happens to be my favorite way to sit still, actually.”

“Now we’re speaking my language,” Livia chimed in, hopping up and wiggling her hips. “Ropes and chains, whips and clamps. Let’s go, baby! Get that wine, Mave.”

Livia tugged me up off the floor before looping an arm through mine, and the next thing I knew, we were watching the last bit of the sunset over the beach, our toes dug deep into the cool sand, a bottle of red wine split between us.

Grace made a toast to Maven and Vince, we clinked glasses, and then as soon as the first sip was done, Maven turned the attention to me.

“So, how has the first week been at the house?”

“Great,” I said. “I mean, Ava is the easiest kid in the world, and Will has been very accommodating.”

“Oh yeah?” Livia waggled her brows. “How accommodating?”

Grace swatted her arm. “You are too horny for your own good.”

But even as the girls laughed her off, their eyes all swung to me, waiting.

My skin felt hot enough to turn water into steam as I traced the rim of my glass with a fingertip. “I assure you, nothing like that. I’m trying not to be like the other nannies he’s had to go through.”

“I already know you’re different,” Maven said. “And I’m glad he’s found you. Poor Will… he’s been through hell and back.”

The girls fell quiet, nodding.

“I can’t imagine,” Grace said softly. “Jaxson always pokes fun at him, but deep down, he just wishes Will would open up and talk about it all. It has to be so hard, carrying the burden alone.”

“He talked to me a little,” I said without thinking.

Again, all eyes shot to me, brows lifting. “He did?” Maven asked, genuinely shocked.

“Not a lot,” I said hurriedly, tucking my hair behind one ear. The wind blew it back in front of my face in the next second, and I slid my hand under my thigh to keep from fidgeting more. “But… yeah.”

“That’s huge, girl,” Livia said. “Even when I had him high on anesthesia before pulling a tooth, he didn’t say shit to me.”

“He already trusts you,” Grace assessed. “Probably because of how well you take care of Ava. I mean, Jaxson said you’re a natural with her.”

“Well, thank you. My mission now is to make her laugh. Her dad, too.”

“Okay, well, you might succeed with Ava,” Maven said. “But don’t hold your breath for Will, alright? That man is stone.”

“Mm-hmm, I’ll bet he is. In all the right places.”

Livia did a little dance in her chair with that comment, her tongue out and hips thrusting as Maven and Grace laughed and chastised her.

I couldn’t help the little twinge of possessiveness that came over me when I watched her do it, but thankfully, it receded as quickly as it had come, and then the conversation moved to Grace — to where she was off to next, which happened to be Spain.

It was a magical evening, one filled with bottle after bottle of wine, conversation rich and deep and easy, and laughter that made my stomach hurt. I was perfectly content to sit on the sideline and just listen to them talk, but they always made sure I was involved, asking me questions about school, about my mother and grandmother, about how the hell I put up with a classroom full of kids every day.

By the time the boys showed up and Jaxson offered to drive me back to Will’s, I was buzzed and smiling ear to ear.

Because for the first time in my life, I felt like I’d found a group of girls I could be friends with.

Will and Ava were both already asleep when I got home, and I no sooner made it back to the pool house and greeted my cats before my phone pinged.

Maven: Welcome to the group text, Chloe!

Livia: Beware of NSFW images at random.

Grace: No, seriously, beware of that. I was with my mom the last time Livia sent a picture of her latest toy. My poor mother is still scarred.

Livia: Or is she curious…

Grace: EW.

Maven: Love you all so much. Thank you for your help tonight. And by help, I’m talking to Chloe only. The rest of you were useless.

Livia: And you love us still. HIRE AN EVENT PLANNER. Goodnight, bitches.

Me: Thank you for inviting me. I had a lot of fun.

Grace: Good, because you’re stuck with us now.

Maven: *kiss emoji*

Livia: Feel free to send us photos of that fine ass daddy, too.

Maven: LIV

I laughed, plugging my phone in to charge and dragging my smiley, tipsy ass into the shower.