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Cover image for Between the Whistle and the Quiet

Between the Whistle and the Quiet

著者
Sophie Lee
閲覧数
17.6K
チャプター
27
著者
Sophie Lee
閲覧数
17.6K
チャプター
27
🏈 Sports👩🏼‍🦱 Nannies⚔️ Enemies to Lovers🏃🏿‍♂️ Athletes✌🏻 Brother’s Best Friend🏙️ Contemporary💪🏻 Protector🏒 Hockey Players🔒 Forced Proximity

Madison Hales has always believed the world is mostly good—sunshine in human form, even when it gets her into trouble. So when her brother Jaxon asks her for a massive favour, she says yes without thinking.

Be a full-time nanny for his teammate’s son.

No problem… right?

Except the teammate in question is Luca Moretti—the brooding New York Reapers center who was once Madi’s favourite player long before Jaxon went pro. The same Luca Moretti who, in person, is colder than the rink he dominates. Their first meeting ends in disaster, and Madi swears she’ll keep her distance.

But seven-year-old Hamish has other plans.

As Madi settles into her new role, Luca’s walls begin to crack. Behind the intense stare and quiet intimidation is a man fiercely devoted to his son… and unexpectedly protective of the girl who keeps bringing light into their shadows.

She wasn’t supposed to fall for him. He wasn’t supposed to notice her. And letting her in might be the biggest risk Luca’s ever taken.

Chapter 1: You Hate His Guts

MADISON

I scowl at my brother, Jaxon, in distaste as he walks into our kitchen in nothing but briefs, scratching his balls. A lovely sight, really.
“Good morning,” he says.
“It’s two p.m.,” I argue. “Out late?”
“You know me after a win, Madi,” Jaxon says. He opens the fridge and gets out some grapes. “I celebrated hard.”
My brother Jaxon plays hockey for the New York Reapers. They had a preseason game against the Ottawa Kodiaks, but Jaxon sees a win as a win. Yeah, he is a big-time NHL player. First-line right winger, actually. I am a proud sister.
“I am sure Shayla will be dealing with the repercussions,” I deadpan.
“I forget you two are friends,” he says and takes a seat beside me on the other stool. “How did that come about again?”
There are six of us girls. I initiated a support group for all of us after we were all raped by Jonathan. Jonathan’s lucky number was twelve. It’s why, for some reason, he assaulted twelve-year-old girls. Teagan remembers him telling her that.
He never assaulted more than once. But he left marks on all of us. I was the last to be assaulted because his son-in-law caught Jonathan on top of me and beat him to death.
Grant actually joins our meetings now because he went through a similar experience. Jaxon may know about my rape, but Shayla is my friend, and she can tell people when she’s ready. It was a huge coincidence that my brother plays for the team for which she is the head HR rep.
“Friend of a friend,” I lie.
He hums. “How is the job search going?”
I moved in with Jaxon to be closer to him, but looking for a job is tough. Jaxon is four years older than me, but we have always been super close, except for the seven years I was hiding the fact that I was assaulted. It fucking crushed him.
“Not so good,” I murmur. “It’s a tight market.”
“I might have something for you,” Jaxon says.
I perk up on my stool and smile sweetly at my brother. “Did I mention how much I love you?”
He chuckles. “Noted,” he says. “One of my teammates needs a nanny.”
“He can’t look after himself?” I joke.
Jaxon rolls his eyes. “No, for his son, Hamish.”
“Who is it?” I ask. I know all of Jaxon’s teammates, and besides Malcolm, I don’t know anyone else with kids.
“Look, he will be mad I am saying anything, but at this point, he is desperate,” Jaxon says. “It’s Luca.”
I scowl at my brother. “No.”
“Madi!” he whines.
“Luca is a jerk to me,” I argue. “You have seen it with your own eyes.”
“He has a hard time opening up,” Jaxon says defensively. “Mads, I wouldn’t be asking if this wasn’t important.”
I stay silent, and Jaxon takes that as a cue to continue. “He can never get a new nanny because anyone he hires just wants to fuck him,” Jaxon explains. “You would be perfect because you hate his guts.”
“I don’t hate him,” I mumble.
In fact, before Jaxon made it to the big time, Luca was my favorite player. He made it look so easy being on that ice, and he never let anybody get to him. The week Jaxon got drafted, the team had a little get-together for him, and Jaxon invited me. He introduced me to everyone, and then it got to Luca, and my mouth went dry.
Luca Moretti had this lethal mix of effortless danger and don’t-come-near-me quiet that made every sane person keep a solid ten-foot radius. And yet somehow, when he turned to face me that night at the get-together, I lost the ability to breathe like a normal human. I remember it too well—the moment I first saw him up close.
Luca stood beside the bar, leaning one shoulder against the wall like the world tired him. His black T-shirt clung to a chest sculpted by genetics and God’s favorite cheat codes. Dark jeans, worn leather jacket, silver chain resting against the hollow of his throat—he looked like someone who’d been carved out of shadow and told to play hockey as a form of anger management.
His jet-black hair was slightly mussed, like he’d run his hands through it a million times out of irritation. His skin had that warm olive tone that made the silver of his chain glow. He had a strong, Roman nose and the faintest stubble that only added to the whole I don’t sleep, I brood aesthetic.
But his eyes… God, his eyes. Amber. Striking. Sharp. The exact color of whiskey backlit by firelight.
They swept over me once—quick, assessing, unreadable—and I felt it all the way down my spine. Not flirtatious. Not impressed. Just… aware. And then he spoke.
“Jaxon’s sister?” he rumbled, voice low.
I managed a nod. Barely.
His gaze lingered for a second longer—not warm, not cold, just intense. Then he looked away, already done with the interaction. Already done with me.
I should’ve been offended. No, I was offended. But instead of standing up to him, I stood there like an idiot, heart in my throat, wondering how someone could be both a complete jerk and the most magnetic person I’d ever seen.
To be fair, though, when we met, I was only sixteen. Every interaction has been the same since. One word or a nod. What tipped me over the edge was last year.
I went to the stadium to surprise Jaxon with a homemade lunch and heard Luca talking to Ethan, one of the defensemen. “She has to stop being so needy,” Luca grumbled. “Jaxon needs to concentrate on his game, not his weepy little sister.”
I was not weepy. I am a happy person, and sure, I have days where I sit in my bed and cry, but I don’t go to Jaxon with that stuff. I got Ben and Jerry’s for that.
“Hamish is seven,” Jaxon says. “He has selective mutism—he can’t speak in certain settings—and the doctors can’t tell Luca why.”
“Jax—”
“You won’t have to live with me anymore,” Jaxon murmurs. “I know you hate how messy I am.”
“I moved to be closer to you,” I state.
“And we still can,” Jaxon argues. “But Madi, this is a bachelor pad, and I haven’t done many bachelor things.”
“Is Luca aware you’re asking me?” I mumble.
“Well, no,” Jaxon says. “But he can’t really say no to me either. You two have that in common.”
“I will think about it,” I mutter.
“I will give Luca your number,” Jaxon says, taking it as a yes.
I really can’t say no to him.

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