Paint The Ice

Chapter 2

I FEEL LIKE A PAINTING IN A GALLERY.

My edges are being stared at and all the matters of me.

I say will make or break the situation. I suppose it will. And why do I like it? I feel like I'm in control and I relish in it. Seriously though, why would Cole think I'm the best person for the job? He knows me well enough to know that I'm not experienced with the kids, especially toddlers.

I mean, I've heard about the terrible twos and they're telling me I should babysit a three year old?

"He's my son." Asher adds, as if that will do something.

I think he forgets that I know he has a son. Personally, I've never been introduced to Asher's son. We weren't friends and we barely crossed paths. The entire team was raising the kid together whenever he came around. Cole said so I'm assuming it's Asher's day or week or however he schedules his time. I don't know about his story, probably even at all. I do know that Asher got a girl pregnant and they're obviously not together now so they switch. Co-parent is the most accurate word.

My eyes flicker to the bruise on the side of Asher's face. "You should be with your son then."

And get an ice pack, I don't voice that out loud.

Of course a little bruise doesn't bother him. He's used to the aggressive game of D1 hockey by now.

"We're only asking you because the babysitter flacked. Wish she didn't." Cole explains ruefully.

Asher picks up right after Cole like a freaking tag team. "I just need a break. One night, that's all."

I almost feel sorry for him, I do.

But because of my inner child I would say. " spend time with your son, you can skip a dumb bar night and tuck him in yourself."

I know. I know. It's just my trauma talking. Asher is nothing like mv mother. At least I hope he isn't.

Spending a night to celebrate your team's win isn't selfish and it doesn't mean he's prioritising that over his son. If anything, finding a babysitter is a good thing, right?

I guess I should respect him for that.

"I'll pay you."Asher offers.

Finally, I opened my mouth, "I don't want your money." My voice comes out snappy.

Is mentioning pay supposed to convince me to dive at the opportunity and willingly give my Friday Night away? I don't think so. I'm more concerned about how different tonight will be if I accept the job. Me... babysitting. It doesn't even sound right and shouldn't be in the same sentence.

Kianna nudges me in the ribs with her elbow and clears her throat. "She does accept pay."

"Who said I was babysitting? I just asked how old the kid was before I found out about the situation." Actually I considered it.

Yup. I'm hanging onto the fragments of my freedom.

Over Asher's shoulder, I spot someone steadily approaching our small gathering. Big blue Taft jacket swallows him and the grey hairs covering his upper lip and chin glistens in the night. It's the head hockey coach, McKillan and he's not alone.

"Did you get to the sitter?" Coach McKillan asks, his voice commanding Asher to turn around.

For f**k sakes.

Because there the three year old is. Little hands wrapped around Coach McKillan's index finger. At first glance, anyone would think the kid was Asher's brother. Same dark hair, brown eyes. Then upon closer inspection, the similarities pop out. Long lashes. The almond shape of their eyes, striking eyebrows and even the way they both stand. The resemblance is uncanny. So freakishly similar that it appears Asher copied and pasted himself in a smaller version with chubby rose colored cheeks. Whoever the kid's mother is, she must be furious to have carried for nine months only for her son to look exactly like his father.

I can't believe I'm saying this. I'm never borrowing Cole's car again. "Fine."

Asher's head whips in my direction, he doesn't answer Coach McKillan yet, he questions me instead, "So, you'll do it?" For a second I can't decipher the look in his eyes. Until it's clear as day. Hope. He's hopeful.

"Does that mean you'll do it?" Cole recites and it's so freaking clear that he's the one who wants Asher to celebrate with the others more than anything.

Before I reply, Asher starts talking dollars. "Twenty dollars an hour?" He proposes.

"Twenty-five." Kianna negotiates as if I'm not standing there right beside her. She can't help herself.

"Twenty-two." Asher says. Is that what he pays the babysitter that didn't show up?

However, Kianna doesn't back down.

"Twenty-three."

She's always been passionate about money. After all, she's a finance major.

I could cut in but honestly, it's.ore entertaining watching Asher name a price and Kianna shutting it down. One thing about me is that I don't do anything unless it benefits me. Call me selfish but I'm going to put myself first. Usually, I don't do work without pay but I have something better for Asher. I don't want the money anyway.

"I have a better idea. If I babysit tonight, you have to come to the art studio to clean up."

Asher shoots me a quizzical look. "You want me to clean? What?"

Kianna and Cole also stare at me like I've gone mad.

"Yup. That's the only way I'll babysit." I say.

"Wait. Fine.Deal." I didn't think he'd take the bargain but Asher really is desperate.

"You have yourself a deal Humphrey. Shake on it?" I sketch my hand out between us.

While I don't expect my hands to feel like velvet of any kind, Asher wears thick gloves which feels coarse against my palm when he shakes my hand. The shake itself is firm and if he squeezes too tight, the bones in my palm might dislocate.

In that little moment with the night sky and people gathering outside the arena in groups just like us, Asher and I's hands joined and eyes locked. With Coach McKillan behind, who looks like he's just about ready to go. The deal is sealed.

If you don't show up, I'll hunt you down. I can only hope my eyes are depicting how I truly feel because it's inappropriate to utter my thoughts in front of that adorable three year old.

"Do you often threaten others?" Asher wonders, releasing my hand.

Shit. In true Riley fashion, I've said it out loud.

"Depends on the day." I'm truly mourning my night of cigarettes and wine. My freedom packed it's bags and left the station.

Asher peers at his coach. "Looks like we just got a sitter."

Coach McKillan carefully hands over the boy and then he leaves.

Asher holds the boy's hands. "Tommy this is your sitter for the night.Riley."

I wave.

The three year old Tommy just stares at me. Okay, maybe he's not in the mood. Totally feel that.

I plan my escape. "I'm going home to grab a few things and I'll be at yours in a little bit."

"Wait. How do I know you won't flake on me?"

Asher asks.

I bite back a smile. "You're just gonna have to trust me."

And with that, I start moving my long legs.

"You really turned down the money?" Kianna asks in disbelief as we finally proceed to my car. A Toyota Camry.

____

A WHILE LATER, I'm ringing the doorbell on Crescent Drive. I cross my arms over, the leadther jacket I'm wearing feels stiff but what's new. The straps of my backpack are over my shoulder blades with everything I might need, like a phone charger and my sanity. The homes in this neighborhood are simply gorgeous and attention grabbing if the buyer is into huge windows and red-brick buildings. It's the vintage architecture that sells the place.

Scarlet leaves crunch underneath my thick boots. The sound is oddly satisfying. A welcome mat on the floor lined up with the front door greets me with a message for visitors like myself. Looks like something Cole would say to people: If you live here, welcome home, if not, did you call first?

I snicker. Cole definitely bought it or had it custom made or something.

The front door opens and I look up. It's Asher and he welcomes me inside. My body gravitates to the warmth of the space almost immediately. I hate that the month of November is already so chilly but what was I expecting in Warren. It wouldn't be shocking if it snowed before Thanksgiving.

The open space appears pleasant enough for five adult men to live. Which is surprising because Cole lives here and he's messy as hell. The thing is, I don't come over often. Cole normally comes to mine and takes my snacks because he can eat the whole refrigerator. If Cole doesn't have some girl underneath his practices so he's barely home which means that I don't show up if my brother isn't here. Or I don't show up at all really.

Hockey jackets, hats and backpacks are hung on hooks near the door. All types of shoes are layered on a shoe stand underneath. The front door closes with a click and I venture further into the house.

"I thought you would've ran off." I state, turning my body slightly so that I'm looking at him. He should know I see the desperation on his part too.

And I'm positive he does because he laughs, shoulder shaking in the act. "Hey, I got the shutter end of the bargain. You get to lounge around and do whatever you want and I'll be working like a dog cleaning up whatever it is I'm supposed to clean. I mean, what should I expect? On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the place?"

"Manageable." I refuse to give much information away. I'm also walking into this babysitting thing blind. Thus, he should walk into the art studio blind too.

"Then why don't you do it?" He tilts his head at me.

"I'd prefer if you did it".

That shuts him up and he doesn't question further.

Hockey gears scatter across the living room floor when I walk in. I'm talking about skates, shoulder pads, helmets, and two hockey sticks. So... yeah, only the entryway looks decent. Luckily it doesn't smell like gym socks here.

"Try and Rhett come get your s**t!" Asher shouts. His voice is so loud he could wake up the whole neighborhood if they were asleep. "Sorry about the mess."

Tyler Hill and Rhett Wilson rush into the living room at the boom of Asher's voice. They're guys from the hockey team obviously and one is missing other than Cole. What's his name again? Ethan? Evan? Eric? I don't know, I can never remember his name because he barely talks and he's the goalie.

"Riley?" Tyler looks surprised to see me standing in his living room right now. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello Tyler." I greet, then offer Rhett a peaceful smile.

Rhett, the tall blonde smiles back with teeth as white as bone.

"She's babysitting Tommy tonight," Asher replies, "Were you even listening earlier?" A hint of annoyance in his tone.

"Good luck with that." Tyler blurts out, tossing a hockey bag over his wide shoulder and then he grabs the skates.

The tone of his voice forces me to think about why the babysitter flacked.

Asher ignores him, and turns to me. "Make yourself comfortable. I'm going to take a shower. Tommy's in the kitchen."

"And Cole?" I probe.

"Shower." He proclaims.

And with that, he's gone. While Rhett and Tyler are cleaning in the living room, I escape to the kitchen. There Tommy sits with a plate in front of him. He's stuffing his face so he doesn't notice are coming in.