Her eyebrows pull down and bounce up. “Throwing an—oh! Ax throwing? You must be Queenie.”

“Um, yeah. I am.” She seems unfazed by the activity, and the fact that I answered the phone, but I’m sure my own confusion is obvious.

She smirks, and I can see the family resemblance in their smile and their eyes. “Ryan may have mentioned you before.”

“Is that so?”

A loud thud startles me. I glance up to see the ax embedded in the wall rather than the target. “Hey, Hanna, we’re a little busy here right now!” Kingston calls out.

Hanna ignores him, eyes lighting up. “So King took you ax throwing, huh?”

“He did. So far he’s beating me, but it’s my first time. He just screwed up a throw pretty bad, though, so I might recover some points.”

“It was one bad throw.” He appears over my shoulder. “Hey, momster, you mind if I call you back later?”

Her grin widens. “How cute are the two of you together?”

Kingston plucks the phone from my hand. “Bye, Hanna.”

“I love you, Ry-Ry.”

Kingston closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I love you too, momster. Bye.” He cracks a lid, his eyeball focused on me.

“Ry-Ry?”

“She’s the only person who calls me that, and she only does it to get under my skin.”

“I think it’s sweet that you have that kind of relationship with her.”

“We’ve always been tight.”

“That’s quite obvious.” I’m almost jealous of his relationship with his sister-mom. I don’t have any siblings, or a mom I’d even want to be that close with, especially since all she’s ever done is make me feel like I’m not good enough. “I can’t believe you told her about me.”

Kingston shrugs, cheeks still pink. “We’ve been hanging out a lot lately, and I don’t keep much from her.” He picks up my ax and hands it to me.

I step up to the line on the floor. “How much have you told her?”

“We’re close but not that close.” Kingston settles his hands on my hips, and I feel his breath on my cheek when he bends down and whispers, “I’d like her to keep believing I’m a Boy Scout, even if you and I know that isn’t always true.”CHAPTER 10

WINS AND LOSSES

Kingston

The first exhibition game of the season is in LA, so we’re about to board the team plane.

“King, can I have a word?” Jake claps me on the shoulder and pulls me aside.

“Yeah, sure, of course. What’s up?” I motion for Bishop to go on ahead of me and hook my thumbs into my pockets. Jake looks stressed, which in turn makes me stressed.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Queenie lately.”

“Yes, sir, as friends, sir.”

“Yeah, I know. She’s been pretty adamant about that part.” He blows out a breath. “She’s a bit of a restless soul.”

“We can all be that way.”

“Mmm.” He nods. “She can also be quite impulsive.”

“I’m not sure I follow.” Sure, there have been a few times since we’ve started spending time together when the tension between us tested our resolve. But as far as impulsivity, I feel as though it’s been more me than Queenie getting close to the line.

Jake chews on his bottom lip, as if he’s debating something. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Of course. What can I do?”

“I’m sure Queenie’s told you she’ll be traveling with the team.”

“Uh, yes, she’s mentioned that.”

“Can I ask you to keep an eye on her for me? I don’t want to smother her, and I know she’s an adult, but some of your teammates are smooth talkers . . .” He lets it hang there.

“I understand, sir.”

He pats me on the back, his smile holding relief. “Thanks, King. I knew I could count on you to watch out for my baby girl.”

I would feel so much better about this request if I hadn’t already been naked with his baby girl, but I’m more than happy to keep the rest of my teammates away from her.

Our brief conversation means Jake and I are last to board the plane.

Queenie’s at the front of the plane, sitting in the aisle seat, laptop open and typing away. In the row beside her are Alex and Rook, who are deep in conversation. Queenie glances up from her laptop as we board and gives me a small smile, then moves the messenger bag from the seat beside her. I recognize it as Jake’s. I spot Bishop at the back of the plane, so I make my way down the aisle toward him.

“You can take the window seat if you want,” I tell Bishop when he makes a move to get out of his seat to let me in.

He makes a face. “You hate the aisle seat.”

“I don’t mind. I’ll take the window on the way back.”

“Suit yourself.” He slides over. We’re on the opposite side of the plane from Queenie, which means I have a pretty decent view when she leans on her armrest.