“Um, yes?” My dad rubs the back of his neck and glances at Kingston, as if he’s going to help out here. “Why exactly do we need a set of tablets for the whole team?”

“Because you’re using entirely too much paper. It’s like a tree graveyard in your office, and every time we have a meeting I have to make four million copies. Also, these guys have worse penmanship than a class of preschoolers.” I turn to Kingston. “Except you. Your handwriting is extremely legible.”

“Thanks.” He grins again, and my brain shorts out for a second.

“You’re welcome,” I finally whisper-breathe. “Anyway, once I get all the documents on file as PDFs, they’ll be able to complete the forms via tablet, and I won’t have to manually input anything, which will free up my time, save my sanity, and preserve at least one forest somewhere. See why I’m so excited?”

“This seems like a lot of work, and won’t you have to teach everyone how to use them? And me? I’ll have to learn how to do all that stuff.” I can see that my dad’s starting to panic.

“I promise it’ll be simple, and I’ll give you a tutorial. I can even make a video for the guys. I’ll walk you through the whole process. You’re working with a bunch of kinesthetic learners, and this helps make everything accessible and interactive.”

“It’s actually a great idea,” Kingston chimes in. I’m not sure if he’s trying to save my ass, or he really thinks it’s a great idea, but I appreciate the support.

“I’m sure Lou-Ellen was a great assistant, and I know she was lovely, but you’re still stuck in 1999, and the rest of the world is two decades ahead of you. I know it seems like a lot, but honestly, I’m about to make your life a hell of a lot easier.”

“Okay.” My dad blows out a breath and nods. “If you think this is going to make things easier, then I’m game, as long as it doesn’t interfere with any of your other duties.”

“It won’t. I promise.”

He looks to Kingston. “Did you need to see me?”

“Oh, no, sir. I was helping Queenie. I should head out.” He thumbs over his shoulder and takes a step toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. At practice. Have a nice night. Bye, Queenie.” He awkward waves, his face having turned bright red once again, and darts down the hall.

My dad cocks a brow. “He seems smitten with you.”

I snort laugh; it’s a horrible sound. “He’s like a poster boy for the Boy Scouts of America. I think a Girl Scout leader would be more his type.”

“Opposites attract.” He shrugs, maybe trying to come across as nonchalant, but I know my dad, and I can tell he’s fishing.

“Are you saying I couldn’t be a Girl Scout leader?”

“You’re more suited to the rebel faction, I think.” He grins and I laugh.

He’s not wrong. “Well, he seems like a rule follower, and you made it pretty clear that I’m off limits, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about with Kingston.” It’s me he should be concerned about, because as much as we might be mutually off limits, there’s clearly an attraction we’re both fighting. Kingston seems a lot more capable of keeping himself in check than I am.CHAPTER 7

DODGE AND WEAVE

Queenie

Over the next couple of weeks I settle into a routine. In the morning I make eggs and avocado toast for me and my dad, which we eat while we review the schedule for the day.

I write a lot of memos, arrange meetings, answer emails, and study team statistics whenever I have a little downtime. Having completed almost all the required courses for a psych degree, I’ve taken stats, and it’s something I actually enjoy and excel at, so analyzing numbers is fun for me.

And it’s so much easier now that I’ve moved everything over to digital. I still make my dad paper copies, but at least we’re only killing a few trees and not an entire forest. He was reluctant at first, but when he realized how much more streamlined everything became, he finally relented. It’s made my job so much easier, and it means I can focus on something other than endless paperwork.

Since I’m fully immersed in the world of hockey and everything that entails, I’ve also observed preseason training camp several times. Watching those guys in action gives me a renewed respect for how hard they push themselves physically. It explains Kingston’s exceptional stamina and flexibility.

And so far we’ve got the awkward platonic thing down. He’s always polite, always appropriate, and always red faced when I run into him.

I’d like to say I give him a wide berth as a result, but that would be untrue. In fact, I derive perverse enjoyment from watching him flounder and splutter every time we cross paths, because it’s so very different from how he was that night we spent together. I can’t figure out which version is authentic, or if it’s both.