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“Cooper,” he whines, making me laugh. “What about you? Have you met anyone you need to tell me about?”

Garrett’s face flashes before my eyes.

“Nah, you know me. I’m too busy for all that.”

“Uh huh. I’m sure you are,” he teases.

“I’ve…uh, made some new friends, though.”

Huxley’s brows shoot up, reminding me that he isn’t an innocent little kid anymore. He knows and sees more than I let on.

“That’s awesome. Anyone I might know?”

“Yes and no. Did you know that Rovvy has a giant bear of a dog called Mabel?”

Huxley barks out a laugh.

“She’s all over his Instagram, apparently.” Thankfully, Hux and Ryker are yet to embark on a life that revolves around social media, but I know that’s coming to an end fast. Before I know it, they’ll be teenagers, and their lives will consist of selfies and Snapchat.

Oh God—they’re going to expect me to do all that as well, aren’t they?

“You’re gonna need to send me a photo,” Huxley says.

“I will. I’ve got one of her and her two best friends on the ice.”

His confusion makes me laugh, and I kick myself for not telling them about this earlier. I blame Garrett and his spectacular dick. I’ve been fully distracted.

Eventually, there’s movement behind Huxley, and a few seconds later, a sheepish-looking Ryker appears on screen.

“There he is, our little superstar. Huxley was telling me how incredible you were today. Two goals and two assists—that’s amazing, Ryk. Well done.”

I put as much enthusiasm as I can into my words in the hope they can banish even a little bit of the criticism that Dad will have given him.

His lips barely twitch in acceptance.

“He’s right, you know?” Huxley says, elbowing his brother gently. “I was so proud of you out there today.”

“Me too. I wish I could have seen it.”

“Coop’s coming to our game in a few weeks,” Huxley tells Ryker excitedly.

“Yep,” I agree. “Gonna watch you kill it out there with my own two eyes. I miss you both so much.”

Our conversation turns to my game last night—although, as per usual, it’s Huxley and I who control the narrative; Ryker barely says a word.

I’m so engrossed in the conversation that I forget there’s someone else in my house. That is, until footsteps get closer.

I look over my shoulder to see that he’s thankfully put some clothes on. Explaining this would be way harder if he turned up wearing as little as I am.

My heart jumps into my throat, but I don’t get a chance to warn him before he registers Huxley’s voice filling the room.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t—” He cuts himself off, presumably when he realizes that whoever is on the other end of the call can actually hear him.

“Who was that?” Huxley asks, forgetting his previous rant about one of the penalties we were given last night that he didn’t deem to be fair.

“Oh, um…”

‘I’m sorry,’ Garrett mouths before taking a step back.