“Who is that?” Sutton asks, peeking over my shoulder.
“No one,” I snap before putting my cell to sleep and placing it screen down on the counter. “How’s your head?”
“Daddy, it’s fine,” she sighs. “I barely even hit it. Miss White was totally overreacting. I’m so annoyed they called you.”
Folding her little arms over her chest, she rolls her eyes, looking the epitome of a drama queen.
“Peanut, you hit your head. They have to call; it’s their job.”
She shakes her head, her eyes going again. “It’s just ridiculous. I take harder hits on the ice right in front of you. No one goes crying to you then.”
“You have a helmet on,” I counter.
“Oh yeah, because that stops it from hurting,” she deadpans.
I mean, she’s got a point.
“Sutton,” I sigh.
“Sorry, Daddy,” she says with the sweetest smile. “But I promise, I’m okay. Hopefully, Adrian has a nice bruise forming though.”
“Oh my god,” I mutter, dragging my hand down my face.
“He deserved it. He was being mean.”
“That doesn’t mean you should be fighting, Sutton.”
“If I were a boy, I’d have waited until we were on the ice," she informs me. “Every time I look at him, I picture slamming him into the boards.”
I just about manage to smother my laugh.
I’m raising a savage.
If they ever have the opportunity to play a game against each other, it’s going to be a bloodbath.
“Remember, Sutton, a good sportsperson?—”
“I know, I know,” she says, interrupting me. “I promise I’ll do my best not to let it happen again.”
I stare at her, unable to do anything but accept that.
“Just focus on being better than him. Don’t stoop to his level.”
“You got it, Daddy,” she says, smiling up at me, her eyes glinting wickedly.
There is no way this is the end of this rivalry. Something tells me that it’s going to haunt us for years.
Getting Sutton away from Adrian and his family would probably be the only benefit to me getting traded if Coach finds out about everything. The only problem is that no matter where we are, there will always be Adrians. Sutton will always be a girl in what is predominantly a male sport. It’s getting better, but there is still a long way to go for female hockey players to get the recognition they deserve.
“Go and get ready for bed, Peanut,” I say, watching as she skips out of the room.
Once she’s out of sight, I drop my head into my heads and suck in a few calming breaths.
Parenting is really fucking hard.
Picking up my cell, I look at Casey’s message again. My heart swells at her concern about Sutton.
I’m about to respond when, “Daddy,” echoes down to me. “I can’t find Vincent.”
