Chapter 26
26
Elle
P reston’s house is adorable, which I tell him.
“It’s just a house,” he mutters, as if he can’t see its charm.
The one-story ranch is surrounded with warm, colorful flowers decorating the front yard and greenery crawling over the tall, wooden privacy fence in the back, no doubt to keep Finley safe. Some of his taller toys can be seen from the driveaway–a treehouse, along with a swing set. It’s not what I would’ve expected for a bachelor. Preston’s not really a typical bachelor living alone, though. His sister and nephew live with him, like they’ve made their own close-knit family with the three of them.
It’s a grown-up home for a man who works hard to provide for and take care of the people he loves.
As Preston pulls the SUV into the two-car garage next to a sedan, I realize that he’s never mentioned his mother or father. Not that he told me about Maya either before I met her. His parents, however, weren’t at the game last night. I don’t even know where he’s from.
“Do you see your parents often? You’ve never talked about them, and they weren’t at the game,” I remark as he puts the SUV in park.
“Our parents are dead to me.”
“Dead to you?” I repeat, thinking that sounds a bit harsh for the two people who raised him.
Sighing, he stabs his fingers through his short hair while staring at the garage wall in front of us. “Our father is a strict asshole, and while our mom is a nice woman, she does whatever my father tells her to do. Maya and I grew up going to a Catholic school, church when the doors were open, the whole nine yards because our father is devout. So, while we didn’t expect them to throw a party or anything when Maya told them she was pregnant, we thought they would at least be supportive since she was so stressed out about being a teenage mother. I went home with her to tell them, for moral support. Their reaction was even worse than I expected.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“When Maya told them she was pregnant, our father flipped out. He told her that if she didn’t marry the man responsible fast, before anyone found out she was knocked up, she wasn’t welcome in his home, and they wouldn’t keep paying her college tuition.”
“Wow.”
“Mom didn’t say a word. She just acted like our father’s demands were perfectly normal. I knew Riley would never agree to marriage. And even if he would have, Maya was so young. How our father treated Maya, like one simple mistake had ruined her, wasn’t right. I told him so. We nearly got into a fist fight before Maya ran out sobbing. After that, I convinced her to move in with me. It was a small, shitty apartment in Raleigh at the time. Christian…Riley had just moved out, so she stayed with me, and I worked part time roofing houses to support us when I wasn’t playing hockey.”
Wow. Not only were Preston and Christian friends, but they were also roommates, which means they were probably really close.
“I tried to get Maya to keep taking classes at State, but she couldn’t. She was a wreck those first few months. Thankfully, a few weeks before Finley was due, I got called up to the pros. It was such a fucking relief, like our prayers had finally been answered. I bought our first house just outside Milwaukee. We lived there for two years until I was traded. Pulling up roots wasn’t so bad, since Finley was only two, but now…” he trails off, but I know exactly what he was going to say.
“Now leaving the D.C. area would be tough on him since he goes to preschool,” I finished for him.
Preston nods when he faces me again. “He’s a little shy, and he’s just getting used to his teachers and starting to make friends. It would suck to have to make him move again.”
“So that’s why you’re trying to get a contract extension with the Warhawks?”
“Yes. I’d give anything for them to keep me on.”
“You helped get them to the championships, could very well help them win the trophy this year. The Warhawks would be fools to let you go.”
“Here’s hoping. So far, my agent hasn’t heard shit from them about renewing.”
“Maybe they’re just waiting to see how the season ends so they know how much they’ll have to pay you to keep you.”
“Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
“So, you haven’t spoken to your parents since Maya was pregnant?”
He shakes his head. “Our mom still reaches out to me by text on birthdays and holidays. Maybe I should block her number, avoid the trauma that goes along with every occasion when she contacts me but not Maya. It’s hard on my sister. She feels guilty for turning me against them, but I could never forgive them for that shit, though. I don’t want Finley around that judgmental asshole, either. Knowing my father, he would call him a bastard in front of him, I would kill him for it, and then I would end up in jail.”
“You’re right. It’s best not to go down that road,” I tell him.
Taking a deep breath, he looks over and asks me, “What about you? Are you close to your parents? You mentioned that they weren’t happy about you cutting your dolls’ hair or your own.”
“You remembered that?” I ask in surprise, barely able to recall telling him that in our conversation at the salon. “My parents are great. They still live in our hometown of Eden. It’s a rural place about an hour away from Greensboro. We try to see each other once a month since they have their own bakery to run.”
“And you have the salon to run.”
“Right. Everyone is busy. I’m hoping they’ll sell the bakery soon. They’re getting too old for all that hassle.”
“Yeah, owning your own business must be a lot of work.”
“It is, but it’s worth it to be your own boss,” I agree.
“I don’t doubt it,” Preston replies. His eyes then flicker toward the door leading into the house from the garage. “Well, are you ready to meet the boss of my house? I know Maya has probably been peeking out the windows, waiting for us to come inside so she can grill you.”
“I like your sister. She seems nice. Hopefully, this meeting goes better than our first.”
Unbuckling my seatbelt, I reach for the door when Preston grabs my hand. “I don’t want you to think you’re stranded out here if you decide to run again. Not that I want you to run, but if that’s what you want, I’ll take you back to your hotel or the airport or wherever you want to go.”
“I know. Thank you.” I lean over to give him a quick peck on the cheek, then we both get out of the SUV, Preston hauling my luggage up to the interior door, then through it. As he predicted, his sister is waiting for us in the kitchen. Wearing a red Warhawks hoodie and black leggings with her raven hair in a ponytail, she looks more like a college coed than a mother.
“Hi there! I was wondering how long you two were going to sit out in the car.” She throws her arms around me, giving me a big hug as if we’re friends or family who have known each other for years.
“Told you,” Preston mutters. “Elle, you remember Maya. Maya, be nice.”
“I’m always nice,” she huffs, bracing her hands on her hips. “And I’m so glad that you two worked things out. I’ve never seen Preston so out of sorts like he was last night. He bit my head off, but I totally deserved it.”
“You bit your sister’s head off?” I ask him. “Why? Because I left the arena?”
“You heard her,” he says. “She admits that she deserved it by overwhelming you.”
“I’m used to his temper tantrums,” Maya says with a roll of her chocolate brown eyes, so similar to her brother’s. “So, come in and get comfortable. Then I want you to tell me everything about yourself.”
“Maya,” Preston mutters in warning.
“What? I’m curious about the woman who made my grumpy brother break his own rules after years and years of refusing to date.”
“I think you know everything there is to know about me,” I assure her as I follow her to the living room.
“I’ll put your luggage in one of the guest rooms,” Preston calls out from the hallway. “But don’t think that means I don’t want you in my bed, cupcake.”
“Cupcake,” Maya repeats with a chuckle as she flops down on the navy-blue sectional. “He’s ridiculous.”
“Right, because he doesn’t eat sweets.”
“Who doesn’t eat sweets?”
“I thought Preston said he doesn’t like them.”
“Oh, honey. That man can’t stop once he starts in on the sweets. He tries to avoid them because if he’s in for one cupcake, he won’t stop until he’s gobbled down half a dozen.”
Well, now I guess I feel a little better about the term of endearment.