Victor (Chicago Blaze 3)

He rose to the occasion, though, figuring out how to cook simple dinners for us, braid my hair and help me learn to read. Before, my mom had been a stay-at-home mom who took care of raising me and keeping our house in order.

My dad became a hero to me, and I think he always will be. He’s dated on and off over the years, but never found anyone who could compare to my mom.

And now I hurt for Jonah, knowing what he’s going through. You could just see the love between him and Lily when you looked at them.

There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to watch this game. It doesn’t seem right that Lily’s now gone from this world, yet it keeps turning.

The team still has a game to play, but I’m only watching to see Victor. Otherwise, I’d be curled up in bed right now, wallowing in my sadness.

The whole team looks sluggish. Rhett Baxter gets in some good blocks, but three goals get past him. The only goal scored by the Blaze is a wrist shot from Luca, and even he looks surprised when it goes in.

The Blaze players quietly leave the ice, most of their heads down.

“Lindy, you okay?” Dad asks me as the guys are packing up to go.

“Yeah.”

I didn’t eat any pizza and I haven’t moved from my recliner once during the game. I’m covered by an afghan my mom made before I was born, my go-to comfort blanket.

After he closes the door behind the guys, Dad crosses him arms and looks at me.

“What’s going on? You sad they lost or somethin’?”

I can’t help a small smile. My dad tries so hard, in his own way, to be there for me when I need him. I love that about him.

“I knew Lily West.” I sit up, keeping the big blanket wrapped around my shoulders. “She was so nice.”

Dad nods and sits down on the coffee table so he’s facing me. It creaks beneath his weight.

“Jonah West’s wife?”

“Yeah. I met both of them recently when I went to a game.”

“A game?” Dad lifts his brows in surprise.

“I met Victor Lane at the arena one night and he invited me to come to a game.”

Dad smiles knowingly. “So that’s why you changed your hair.”

I shake my head to deny it, but the blush warming my face is a giveaway.

“Why didn’t you tell me about all this?”

I shrug. “We’re only friends.”

“Only?” Dad grins. “There ain’t much better in this world than a true friend.”

“Did you see him holding his shoulder after he got run into the boards? Do you think he’s okay?”

“Hockey players are tough as nails. I’m sure he’s fine.”

I nod, my fingers toying with a fringed corner of the afghan. “He’s really nice, too. They all are.”

“You met the whole team?”

“Most of them. We went out for dinner and drinks after the game.”

Dad grins. “My little girl’s hanging out with the Chicago Blaze.”

“Only once.”

“Bah. Now that they met you, your phone’s gonna be ringing nonstop. Good for you, Lindy.”

I roll my eyes. Dad’s expression turns from gleeful to serious. He says, “You know I’m good, right?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, furrowing my brow.

“I mean…” He looks away, searching for the right words. “I know it’s been only you and me for a long time now. And I love having you here, don’t get me wrong. But if you meet someone, and—”

“Dad, it’s not like that. Victor and I are just friends.”

“You’re a great girl. You’re gonna meet someone at some point, and I want you to go for it when you do. Grab that chance by the balls, okay? Your old man’s gonna be just fine on his own.”

“I’m good, Dad. But thanks.”

He gets up. “Eat a little something, okay?”

“I will.”

“I’m goin’ to bed. Wake me up if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

I know what he means—wake me up if you’re sad and don’t want to be alone. I did it after Mom died, after our dog Racer died and after Jimmy Morgan told me I looked like an ugly boy after I got a bad haircut. I had a crush on him, and I was devastated.

I sit in the recliner a little longer, but soon I head upstairs to my bedroom. I have to work a rare day shift tomorrow, doing inventory and training a couple new employees. I’m kind of glad, because I need something to focus on other than Lily West’s death.

I’m almost asleep when my phone buzzes with an incoming text on my nightstand. I pick it up, squinting to read the words on the brightly lit screen.

Victor: Hey, I’m off tomorrow. Want to hang out tomorrow night?

My heart leaps and suddenly, I’m wide awake. I text back as fast as my fingers can type.

Me: Sure, I have to work during the day but I’m free after that.