“All the way down, River!” Violet calls out. When River reaches the aisle we’re sitting in, he tugs on his twin sister’s hand, but she ducks behind him and shakes her head.

Violet pats her on the head. “It’s okay, Lavender; you know Rainbow Stevie.”

The auburn-haired little girl sticks her fingers in her mouth, and Violet crouches down in front of her and whispers something to her. Eventually she follows her brother down the aisle, gripping the back of his shirt.

“Lavender’s shy around new people,” Stevie explains.

“She’s adorable.”

“She is definitely that,” Stevie agrees.

The little boy stops in front of Stevie. “Hi, Evie.”

“Hi, River. Hi, Lavender. It’s so great that you could come to see everyone play today.”

Lavender peeks out from behind her brother and lifts her hand in a quick wave before she tucks herself behind him again.

“We get to go for ice cream after.” He shifts his green-eyed gaze to me and holds out his tiny hand. “I’m River Waters. My daddy is the coach. This is my sister, ’ave-der. She’s shy.” Based on the rote way he speaks, I’m thinking this is his standard introduction. He has incredible speech for such a young kid. He steps to the side, but his sister mirrors the movement, keeping herself hidden behind him.

I shake his little hand, impressed by his firm grip. “It’s great to meet you both. I’m Queenie, and my dad is the general manager. He works with your dad, and so do I.”

Lavender peeks out from behind her brother, and I get a glimpse of wide, bright-blue eyes. She tugs on her brother’s sleeve, and he leans in so she can whisper something to him. He frowns and shakes his head, but she tugs on his sleeve again and nods.

“Are you Queen of the ’rena?”

I chuckle at that. “Nope, but that would be a pretty fun job, I’d think.”

“Why don’t the two of you have a seat? Lavender, I have your coloring book right here.” Violet pats the empty seat next to her.

Lavender tugs on her brother’s hand. “We has to sit,” he tells me and then lets his sister tug him toward their mother. They cram themselves into the same seat. River helps his sister unpack her coloring supplies and hands her the crayons one at a time, always seeming to know what color she wants next without either of them saying anything.

“They’re adorable,” I tell Violet.

“Thanks. Don’t let Lavender fool you, though. Once she’s comfortable with you, she’ll talk your ear off. Isn’t that right, River?”

“Yup.” He nods solemnly.

Lavender gives her brother a look and then whispers something in his ear. He turns to me. “She says her voice gets lost with new friends.”

“Nothing wrong with saving up your words for the people who count,” Violet says. “Your grandma said I was the same way as a kid. Not sure when that changed, but it’d probably save me a lot of embarrassment if I could manage to keep my trap shut instead of the constant verbal diarrhea I spew when I’m nervous, which is about ninety-five percent of the time.” Violet drops down beside Stevie and motions to the rink. “Anyway, enough about that. You two enjoying the eye candy?”

“Definitely not going to complain.” Stevie grins. “Right, Queenie?”

“Right,” I mutter, and I try to keep my focus off Kingston, but every time I peek over at him, he’s looking right at me.

For the next twenty minutes I don’t do much in the way of note taking, mental or otherwise, since I get sucked into a conversation about preseason exhibition games and who they’re most worried about playing this season.

“Geez. What’s up with King today?” Violet asks. “That’s the third puck he’s let in since I got here.”

I elbow Stevie in the side, hoping she’ll keep her mouth shut about her hypothesis. “He’s distracted.”

“Seriously. Did someone swap out his milk for Red Bull? He keeps looking over at the bench every four seconds. Did Alex give him crap or something?”

“Not sure,” Stevie says with a shrug.

“Well, let’s hope he’s not playing like this during the season, or defense is going to have their work cut out for them,” Violet mutters.

I have the urge to defend him, but that would be suspect, so, like Lavender, I keep my mouth shut.

My dad and Alex grab Kingston as the rest of the guys are getting off the ice at the end of practice. They have a very brief conversation, during which Kingston nods and kneads the back of his neck constantly, before he, too, disappears down the hall and into the locker room.

Lavender and River are busy putting the crayons back in the box.

“When I was your age I used to do the exact same thing.” They both pause and look up. For the first time, I get a good look at Lavender’s face. She looks a lot like Violet, but her eyes are a piercing icy-blue color. I motion to the box poised in her lap. “I always put the colors back so they made a perfect rainbow. Drove my dad batty because it took forever. He didn’t understand how important it was for every crayon to be in its rightful place.” I wink, and a sweet yet mischievous smile lights up her face.