The Penalty Box - Teagan Kade Page 0,23

are making dinner tonight. Trust me, that’s something you don’t want to miss.”

*

Peyton is busy surveying the meal Phoenix and Heather are plating up. “Anyone would think it’s Thanksgiving.”

Heather fiddles with the garnish on the mashed potato. “You don’t need your turkey pants to be thankful.”

Phoenix rushes a tray over from the oven, stuffed peppers from the look of it.

I’m seated by the counter. “Wow, this all smells and looks amazing. You do this every night?”

Both Heather and Phoenix laugh in tandem, Phoenix replying, “Hell no. We have a cook for that, but we thought we’d make an exception tonight, show you all what we’ve been working on.”

Peyton’s rubbing his belly. “Fine by me.”

Nolan returns from upstairs, his hands falling on my shoulders. “They’re not bothering you, are they, baby?”

“I was just saying I might have to move in permanently given the caliber of cooking around here. I didn’t know you guys have a chef, too.”

“And a cleaner—a team of cleaners thanks to these two.” Phoenix is nodding to Peyton and Erin, who both look at each other as if to say ‘Who, us?’

“You think we are the messy ones?” says Erin to Phoenix. “Your room’s like a perpetual frat party.”

I tick off my fingers. “So a cook, cleaning service, the pool… Yep, definitely moving in.”

Nolan leans to my ear so the others can’t hear. “Why not?”

I was mostly joking, but Nolan seems serious. “No,” I tell him. “I’ve got to go back home eventually.

“Yes,” he replies, firm. He massages my shoulders. “Easy access and all.”

Phoenix throws a dishtowel at him. “God, get a room… Just not ours. Haven’t you heard? It’s a perpetual frat party in there.

I’ve got to admit, I love the banter and comradery between the brothers and their better halves. I feel like part of the club already. Whether I’m ready to take that to the next level is another question entirely.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

NOLAN

Given we both had a free day, I decided to do something a bit different. I wanted to take her mind off Rex and all that shit, just do something with the two of us.

Linnea looks surprised when we rock up to the Crestfall ice hockey stadium, affectionally known as The Turtle given its large, domed roof.

I meet the caretaker out front. He looks around waving us over to the doors, using his keys to unlock them and smiling at Linnea. “Just for an hour, okay? I’ve got the reserves coming in for practice right at nine.”

I give him a short salute. “Appreciate it, Bruce. I really do.”

He pushes the door open and puts the keys away. “Yeah, yeah, but you owe me one, King.”

“And I hope you’ll call it in.”

I take Linnea’s hand. “Shall we?”

We enter the stadium, the door swishing closed behind us and the immediate temperature drop forcing Linnea to rub her arms. “If you brought me here so you could skate around and show off, got to say I’m not going to be impressed.”

I stop by the edge of the rink. “Your mom told me you could skate. That true?”

“You spoke to my mom?”

“Dropped around after school to pick up some of your things, make life easier for you. She’s great.”

She eyes me with new suspicion. “What exactly did you two talk about?”

He acts dumb. “Oh, the weather, the Dow Jones, how you got your braces tangled Frenching a kid called Billy back in sixth grade.”

She’s starting to blush, puts her hand up. “I do not want to know. Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

I’m doing my best to suppress a laugh. “Your call, but was she right, about she skating?”

Linnea rolls her eyes. “I haven’t skated in like seven years. I doubt I’d even remember, to be honest.”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

I let go of her hand and walk over to the hire desk, jumping the counter and searching the racks at the back. “You about a nine?”

“Ten,” she shouts.

I select a pair of skates and jump back over the counter, walking over. “These should do it. Follow me.”

I can tell Linnea is apprehensive when we enter locker room. She walks in whistling. “Flashy stuff. Have you seen our locker room? It’s basically a spare closet.”

I breathe in the welcome scent of hockey, of Kevlar, ozone, wax, and rubber. “I suppose we do get a fair chunk of the Academy budget.” I open my locker door, showing her what’s inside. “I managed to procure you a full set-up from a friend, think it’s about your size.”

She comes closer, curious