War (Boston Bolts Hockey #3)

24. Ava

TWENTY-FOUR

AVA

Beaming, Josie darts across the room and skitters to a stop in front of me. “Did you see my plié?”

The past week hasn’t been so terrible, despite my irritation with my husband. I’m not proud of how I’ve handled communication with him. We’re supposed to be raising kids together, creating a safe, comforting unit for them. Instead, it feels as though I’ve been leading them toward an unstable environment.

After that kiss on our wedding day, I got swept up in a fairy tale. I let myself believe that this could be my happily ever after. But the contract was like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. A reminder that I’m here to serve a purpose. And it has nothing to do with my own wants.

It triggered old hurts. Reminded me of the reason I was brought into this world in the first place—for the benefit of someone else—and I reacted badly.

But I won’t lie and say that some of my payback hasn’t been fun. The hot tub that was delivered two nights ago is definitely included in that fun. I had a grand old time sending Tyler a picture of me beneath the bubbles last night, making sure he couldn’t tell whether I was wearing a suit.

Of course I was. The kids were asleep, but I’m not that unhinged .

Yet.

My week hasn’t totally revolved around torturing Tyler. Without him here, I’ve had the chance to get to know Brayden better. He showed me the gym in the basement and taught me how to use the punching bag. It’s done wonders for my aggression.

And I left work early today so I could pick Josie up from school and take her to ballet.

After a long drink from her water bottle, she pops up on the toes of her pastel pink ballet slippers to hug me. Since we arrived, I’ve been swamped with memory after memory. Each one hits me like a movie reel, as if I’m watching footage of someone else’s life.

Chasing after my sister, mimicking her every ballet move, wanting to be her more than anything.

“I did see your plié, love. It was amazing.” I crouch in front of her and tie the string that’s come loose into a bow.

“Josie tells me you’re a dancer as well.” The voice is deep and smooth.

Head tipped back, I peer up at her dance instructor. I was a bit surprised to find that she had a male teacher. In all the years I danced, I never had one.

I push my hair out of my face and stand with a laugh. “I haven’t really danced in years.”

The man has dark hair and blue eyes like Tyler, but that is where the similarities end. His eyes are warm rather than piercing, and he’s only a few inches taller than me. Dressed in a tight T-shirt, he’s clearly a work of art.

When I force my attention to his face, chastising myself for checking him out, I realize he’s doing a similar appraisal of me.

“You know what they say: it’s never too late to start over.”

I shake my head even as the idea of it, the atmosphere in this room alone, sends flutters through my belly.

With a single step closer, he gives me an encouraging smile. “We have adult classes.”

“I’d make a fool of myself.” I chuckle uncomfortably.

Head dipped, he lowers his voice. “I offer one-on-one instruction too. May help you feel more comfortable until you’re ready to join a class.”

Finally, I let myself honestly consider the idea, and my heart stutters. Dancing again, taking back one of my true passions, feels like a step forward. Like maybe it’s exactly what I need to feel like myself again. “Yeah, maybe,” I breathe, unable to hide my smile.

He brightens and takes a step back. “I’ve got to get in there before the little girls start pulling hair.”

“Right.”

“But check our website. My schedule is posted there. And you can sign up that way too.” His gaze volleys between me and the group of girls who are now running in circles in his studio.

“Great, I’ll look for that.”

He focuses on me again. “Or I could text it to you, Mrs .?”

“A-Ava,” I stammer. “Just Ava.”

His lips curl in a satisfied smirk. “Okay, Ava. I’m Benoir.”

“Benoir,” I repeat slowly with a nod and a smile, hoping the flush creeping up my neck isn’t visible. “It’s nice to meet you. How about you put your number in my phone, and I’ll text you so you have mine?” I hold the device out like I have the first clue what I’m doing. It kind of feels like he’s flirting, but honestly, before Xander, I barely talked to men, let alone flirted. I don’t even understand how Xander and I ended up together. He just appeared while I was out with the girls one night, and after that, he seemed to be everywhere I went. At the coffee shop and even the grocery store. We ran into each other so often it began to feel like a joke. Though he swore it was fate stepping in and asked if I’d run into him at dinner.

There was no need to try to flirt. It just happened. But this ? It definitely feels like flirting.

And maybe it’s wrong, but I kind of like it.

“Can we get ice cream after ballet?” Josie asks as Benoir passes my phone back to me and strides back into class.

Ducking my head, I cup her cheek and smile. “Maybe after dinner.”

“Aw, man, I’ll never have room for ice cream in my belly after Maria’s lasagna. ”

With a laugh, I press a kiss to her forehead. “Then how would you have room for Maria’s lasagna in your belly after ice cream?”

She shrugs. “Priorities, Ava. We eat the ice cream, but we don’t tell Maria.”

I arch a brow at her. We both know we won’t lie to the woman who does so much for us.

“Is Tyler going to be home tonight?”

Speak of the devil. The moment she says his name, a text from him appears. I lock my phone screen before I get dragged into something I don’t have time for.

“Tomorrow. But I think he has a game,” I tell her. “Now go. The break is over.”

“You’ll stay?”

I point to a bench behind the glass wall. “I’ll be right there watching you the whole time.”

With a grin, she skips back into class. And as I shuffle back to the bench, I take out my phone, preparing myself for whatever he has to say.

Tyler: Come to the game tomorrow night.

I stare at it for a few seconds, my stomach in knots, before hastily typing a reply.

Me: Are you summoning me?

Tyler: It’s been a week. We need to talk, and I’d rather not do it with the kids around. Come to my game. We’ll talk after.

Tyler: You signed the contract.

Me: And I told you what you could do with it.

Tyler: I signed it too. Now it’s binding. Come to my game tomorrow, Vicious. We need to talk.

Me: You’re an ass.

Tyler: I’m aware. For the record, the contract was a joke. Hall sent it. And if you’d pick up your damn phone when I call, you would know that.

Me: I’ll be sure to thank Hall for all the orgasms last night, then.

Tyler: Ava.

Me: No, this is good. We needed this reminder. You do you, and I’ll do me. Or maybe other people. We’ll stick with focusing on the kids. That’s our marriage contract going forward. Got it?

Tyler: No. You signed the document, so now we have to follow it. Don’t test me.

I let out a derisive snort, garnering the attention of a few of the mothers sharing the bench.

Me: What are you going to do, spank me???

Tyler: There’s a list of punishments for me to choose from in the contract. Take a look. Better yet, don’t test me and we won’t have to worry about it.

Fuming, I scroll back up to his first text and take screenshots to send to Hannah and Lennox.

Me: My husband has lost his damn mind. I may just kill him.

Immediately, my phone rings, and Hannah’s name flashes on the screen. “Hey,” I whisper. “I can’t talk. I’m at Josie’s dance class.”

“Okay, I’ll make it quick, then. Don’t kill him. That’s a far too easy punishment. We’re going to drag this death sentence out a bit.”

Okay, I’ll bite. Straightening, I ask, “What are you thinking? ”

She launches into a frighteningly well thought-out plan, making me giggle. The moms are all staring again, but I can’t hold it in. And I can’t temper the excitement that races through me at the thought of Tyler’s face when he finds out what we’re up to.

“Okay, I’m in.”