3
Rowan finished his sandwich. Then he carefully picked his way across the floor to the hallway, slipped on a pair of Jordy’s slides, and grabbed the broom and dustpan. If this was going to be one of those days, the last thing they needed was one of them cutting their feet on top of everything else.
Cleaning he could manage. Now he had to switch to the child-minding brain.
Clearly Kaira was upset about something. Unfortunately there were too many possibilities to narrow it down. Wrong sandwich. Missing her father. Angry there was no nanny today. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Stubbed her toe two hours ago (Rowan had witnessed that breakdown too). Sun too shiny. Mercury in retrograde. She probably couldn’t even articulate which of these, or more likely which combination of these, had caused the outburst, and Rowan couldn’t fix any of it.
Giving in to a tantrum wouldn’t set a good precedent either. And she definitely needed to eat some lunch or he was going to be dealing with this all afternoon, when all he really wanted was fun, drama-free times followed by a nice cuddle.
Of course, real parents probably preferred that to this also.
Sighing, he made another sandwich, cut the crusts off, placed it on a plastic plate—lesson learned—and knocked on Kaira’s door.
“Go away!” she said, but she sounded sulky and miserable rather than angry, so Rowan ignored her and opened the door.
Kaira was sitting on the floor with her Piglet stuffie, red-faced and snotty. Her lower lip trembled.
“You need to eat some lunch,” Rowan said firmly. He set the plate beside her on the floor. Normally she didn’t have the privilege of eating in her room, but Rowan was picking his battles today, and he didn’t have the troops to spare for that one. “Finish your sandwich, please. We are going to leave the house in twenty minutes.”
Kaira made a face like she was fighting back tears, but she picked up half of her sandwich and took a bite.
The day progressed in a similar fashion. Kaira was docile and sweet for an hour and then bratty and recalcitrant. For once Rowan was glad the first meltdown occurred at the library rather than at the sweet shop, as at least it was a book and not a cupcake that got thrown on the floor. He felt a bit bad for thinking that—he was a librarian; he should protect the books—but the book had survived the encounter with library carpet. The cupcake would have been lost forever.
She finally settled down after dinner (dino nuggets—Rowan was taking no chances), and they watched two episodes of Bluey cuddled on the couch with a blanket.
Then Kaira said, “Can I watch the hockey game with you?”
Absolutely not. She’d been a bear most of the day, and if she didn’t go to bed at a reasonable hour, she’d disgrace herself at school tomorrow. Rowan didn’t know if Canadian private schools gave first-graders detention, but he didn’t want to be the one to find out and have to tell Jordy.
But the game had an early start, and he didn’t want to give up the closeness. He only had so many more days like this. He’d already looked at three apartments, and one of them was just about perfect. He was going to see it again this week. He had the application all filled out.
“Tell you what,” he bargained. “If you put on your pajamas and brush your teeth and agree there will be no story time tonight, you can watch the first period with me. And then first thing tomorrow morning I will tell you the score, and we can watch clips if your dad did anything cool.”
Kaira had a very serious Thinking Face—she screwed up her forehead and pursed her lips and squinted her eyes. Jordy made that face sometimes when he was exaggeratedly deliberating whether they should eat food they had at home or order pizza. She made it now, and Rowan’s heart gave a painful, loud beat, because he loved her, and he was going to lose her.
And Jordy too.
“Okay,” she said finally, nodding once. Then she climbed out from under the blanket and ran to the bathroom.
Rowan took a deep breath and flicked from Disney Plus over to cable to find the game.
When Kaira returned, smelling of mint and wearing her favorite Pooh pajamas—Rowan noted with alarm that they were suddenly an inch short—she climbed up onto the couch next to him.
They took a selfie together and sent it to Jordy “for luck,” Kaira said, after she insisted on kissing his cheek during it.
Then she fussed with the blanket and squirmed until she could use his leg as a pillow. “I’m not going to fall asleep,” she assured him.
“I won’t let you,” Rowan lied.
By the time the game hit the first commercial break, Kaira was breathing deep and even, keeping Rowan warm even if he couldn’t feel anything below his knee on the left side.
He debated for a second but then took another picture. It didn’t show much, just the back of her head and his legs under the blanket, the television in the background. Objectively it wasn’t very good.
Rowan saved it anyway, then put away his phone. He could pick Kaira up and put her in bed after the first period was over.
THE SHIELD won their next away game, but Jordy didn’t exactly feel like the returning hero.
Rowan wasn’t home, and Kaira was with one of the temp nannies in the living room. The nanny was sitting on the couch with a book, keeping an eye on Kaira while she played. Which Jordy might have been miffed by if Kaira hadn’t placed herself as far from the nanny as she could with her back turned. Jordy kind of doubted this tense parallel play situation was the nanny’s idea.
“Hi, peanut,” Jordy greeted softly.
Kaira counterpointed by squealing, running into Jordy’s arms, and demanding to be held. He scooped her up, enjoying her little kid smells and her soft hair as she pressed her face into his neck and clung to him.
Jordy rubbed her back and murmured softly that he’d missed her. She clutched his neck harder and made the ridiculous whining noises she used to make after he returned from away games two years ago.
Jordy’s heart broke.
Kaira wouldn’t let go of him while he spoke with the nanny and sent her off for the day. She didn’t look familiar, but “Hi, I’m Liz” seemed kind and competent. She was certainly able to give an informative recap of Kaira’s day so far in a way that was sensitive to her presence while still giving Jordy a clear picture of how difficult she had been.
Jordy thanked her profusely and made a mental note to make sure she was paid for the whole day. Given that Kaira was wearing her pajamas at two o’clock, had refused to leave the house, and had made repeated requests for Rowan or Jordy to come home, the woman didn’t deserve to get shortchanged.
Especially when the whole situation was Jordy’s fault. Asking Rowan to play temporary nanny had probably been a mistake. He should have accepted the temporary nannies back in the summer and found a more permanent replacement sooner. Bringing in a stable temporary had clearly made everything worse for Kaira, and she was pushing back against losing a second stabilizing presence so quickly.
Looking back, Jordy wondered if his dick and heart had always been calling the shots with Rowan, even if he hadn’t known it.
Kaira didn’t want to do anything but cling like the cutest koala bear, and Jordy didn’t have the heart or energy to say no. So they watched too much TV, ate too many snacks, and had a quiet day together.
Not that all of that togetherness helped much at bedtime. Kaira stayed clingy and kept asking for more stories, and Jordy finally turned out the lights and said no to story time but promised not to leave until she was asleep. He rubbed her back and drowned in parental guilt until her breathing evened out.
Back in the living room, the house felt empty, so Jordy turned his sudden energy to tidying the den and the mess Kaira had made with her toys.
Rowan still wasn’t home, and Jordy aggressively didn’t care why. He didn’t wonder who Rowan was with or why he was still out at eight on Sunday. And he wasn’t unreasonably mad at Rowan for letting down his daughter, who had whined about wanting to say good night to her Rowan before bed. Being mad at Rowan for being a bad parent would be dumb and selfish, and Jordy wasn’t allowed to do that. Rowan had made his feelings clear. He didn’t want what Jordy had to offer, and Jordy had to respect those boundaries.
Of course, that didn’t mean that Jordy wasn’t allowed to give up halfway through tidying to sit on his couch, clutching a stuffed toy.
Days after his night out with Sully, Jordy had finally admitted to himself that he did want love and romance and to be a good husband. In fact, he wanted that desperately, with an ache that filled his whole body. He just wanted it with someone who didn’t want it back.
His phone rang, and Jordy fumbled to grab it so he could see the caller ID. What if it was Rowan? What if there was a reason he wasn’t home yet?
Emma Shaw
The idea of rejecting his baby sister’s call so he could mope more was too depressing to contemplate. Jordy hit Accept.
“So, what miracle do I owe for you actually calling over texting?”
“I saw a clip from a recent postgame interview. You okay?”
Apparently Jordy had become such a sad sack that his sister could tell when watching clips of him at work. “Why do you ask?”
“Because you have bags under your eyes and you look kinda… resigned,” she settled on.
Well, the bags were easily explained at least. “Haven’t been sleeping so great. Last couple of weeks had been hard on Kaira, and the nanny woes continue.”
“Oh. Kaira is okay?”
“She’s fine, just… change is hard.”
“Right.” Jordy didn’t need to see her face to know she was hesitating to say the next thought. “The trade rumors probably aren’t helping.”
He swallowed. “No. It’s… probably going to happen, and soon. Not that I, uh, told you that.”
“Right, confidential, I know. Shit, Jordy. That sucks.”
“Tell me about it.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
“So, can I ask, what’s happening with Rowan?”
That shouldn’t have blindsided him. “Rowan?”
“Yes, Rowan. You know, the guy who’s been living with you.”
“I know who—what are you asking, Emma?”
“Well, is he going with you?”
“Am I bringing my friend-slash-roommate with me on a possibly international move?”
She sighed. “Can we not play this game where we pretend he’s not important?”
And that broke him. “I’m not pretending he’s not important. But he doesn’t want me.”
“I don’t believe that either. I was there, Jordy. I saw you two together. You weren’t the only one looking all settled and domestic, you know.”
“Just because he—he likes me and having sex with me”—he ignored Emma’s indrawn breath and the mortification of having snapped that at his sister and barreled on—“doesn’t mean that he wants to give up his life here and follow me around.”
“Wow. Okay, lots to unpack there, and because you sound so sad, I will graciously ignore the whole sex-having part of that statement, even though I’m dying of curiosity about your situationship. Instead, let’s focus on the whole ‘doesn’t want a life with you’ thing. And because I know boys, I gotta ask, Jordy, have you asked him?”
“What?”
“Have you straight-up asked him to come with you? Let him know you want him to? Has he specifically and directly said no to an offer of domestic bliss?”
Jordy opened his mouth to say yes, of course he had. But now that he thought about it, maybe he hadn’t. Maybe they had just talked around it. “Well… he said he thought it was a bad idea to start something not permanent.”
“Right. But you didn’t actually offer anything permanent.”
“He meant stationary. Not subject to transcontinental moves at a moment’s notice.”
“Okay. But Jordy, sometimes people need to know they can have something before they’re willing to ask for it.”
Jordy wished that didn’t make sense. “When did you get so smart?”
“I’ve always been smart,” she sassed back. She really was his sister. “But outside perspective always helps. Why do you think I always run to you for advice?” He’d been her first call after the third panicked pregnancy test came back positive. “Also, I’m highly motivated to find a solution here.”
“Oh?” He wiped his cheek of the tear that had escaped.
“Yeah. When I visited, you looked… so happy. Happier than I can ever remember you being. Obviously I want to help you keep that and anyone who makes you smile like that.”
And after an emotional conversation where Emma landed careful, unpulled punches, that one landed a direct hit. Jordy was laid flat. KO.
He knew what he needed to do next, even if it blew up in his face. Jordy wanted—and for once he was going to try for—something that wasn’t hockey or fatherhood.
ON HIS lunch break on Tuesday, Rowan signed his lease paperwork.
That one-bedroom, one-bath apartment with a balcony—overlooking an alley, sure, but still a balcony—would be all his come mid-December. Which meant Rowan should start saving money now for all the furniture he’d need, never mind stocking his pantry. Which meant he should stop asking coworkers to go out for dinner or picking up takeout to eat in the car just because Jordy was home.
So after work, Rowan went straight home.
Today, there was no extra car in the driveway—no nanny. Jordy must’ve picked Kaira up from school himself. Rowan hit the garage door opener and was confronted with the fact that yes, Jordy and Kaira were home.
He parked the car, grabbed his bag, and girded his loins.
He forgot all about his loins when his nose registered what was going on in the kitchen.
“Hello?”
“Rowan!” There was the sound of bare feet slapping on tile. Kaira had outgrown her unicorn slippers, and the new pair hadn’t arrived yet. She latched on to his leg at the knee. “You gotta come help Daddy! He’s being so silly !”
Rowan widened his eyes comically. “Your dad? Silly ?” He scooped her up and tossed her in the air. “I don’t believe it.”
“Yes. He’s slicing pizza cheese with a knife , Rowan. Everyone knows you have to shred pizza cheese.”
So the scent in Rowan’s nostrils was rising yeast and a homemade tomato sauce, soon to be followed by homemade pizza. “We’d better go save him, I guess,” Rowan agreed. He set her down and followed her into the kitchen.
The kitchen where Jordy was wearing the world’s tightest T-shirt under the Kitchen Daddy apron.
“It’s perfectly normal to slice fresh mozzarella for pizza,” Jordy protested. “Ask anyone Italian. They’ll tell you. Or just go to a fancy pizzeria.”
Rowan could not, just now, speak to Jordy or even look at him without causing an incident, so he turned to Kaira. “Are you telling me your daddy has never taken you out for fancy pizza?”
Maybe it was the novelty, but Kaira was at her most angelic when Jordy was home. She might make demands for family time or Bluey or bedtime stories, but all kids did that, and there were fewer tantrums with Jordy around. They spent a relatively tension-free thirty minutes in the kitchen, arguing good-naturedly about pizza toppings. Rowan made steady eye contact with Jordy while putting pineapple on his, just to be funny, and felt far too pleased about it when Jordy laughed.
Dinner was delicious. There were even leftovers for Rowan’s lunch, and because he was clever and put pineapple on his, no one else would eat it. He packed those up in a reusable container, feeling smug, and let Kaira pleadingly invite him to watch an episode of Scooby-Doo . He even sat on the couch on purpose, knowing Kaira would climb up onto the middle cushion and put her feet in his lap. He tucked what had become his lap blanket around her bare toes, let it fall to the floor to warm his own, and smiled when she sighed happily with her head on her father’s lap.
Five minutes into the episode, Jordy cleared his throat. “The hotel owner did it.”
Rowan squawked. “No fair. You’ve seen this one.”
But Jordy wouldn’t admit it, and Rowan thought if making a snack could bring back some of the camaraderie they had before they added sex to their friendship, it was a small price to pay. He could put together a charcuterie board tomorrow night, or whatever.
After the show, Jordy packed Kaira up for a bath and bedtime while Rowan put the kitchen to rights. It seemed only fair since Jordy had gone to such trouble making dinner and the cleaning service didn’t come until the weekend. He couldn’t leave a mess for the nanny, assuming one was coming tomorrow.
He’d just put away the saucepan when Jordy returned from Kaira’s room and cleared his throat. “So, uh… I was hoping I could talk to you for a few minutes, if it’s…. Can we do that?”
Without storming off or ending up in bed? Historically…? Well, there was that time before they started sleeping together. Rowan cleared his throat and leaned on the counter so he wouldn’t fidget. “Sure.”
“I just—I want—” Jordy ran a hand through his hair.
Stop , Rowan wanted to tell him. He could handle confident Jordy, working Jordy, Jordy the self-assured dad. But Jordy struggling for words and touching his hair made Rowan’s stomach flip-flop.
“I want to explain, I guess,” Jordy said finally, “about what happened between us, and why I, uh, why I’ve been such a jackass.”
For once in his life, Rowan could not come up with a snappy response. What a time for his wits to desert him. “Um. Okay.”
“So you know I was married before Kaira came along. And that kind of… I don’t want to say it ended badly or that me wanting to adopt Kaira ended my marriage, because if I’m honest I knew it was over already. But I’ve never been a dad and a partner at the same time.”
Rowan stared at him. He didn’t have the slightest clue what Jordy was getting at, but he didn’t want to admit that out loud in case Jordy thought he was stupid. “Okay?” he said again.
Jordy was looking right into his eyes, his gaze intense, like he was willing Rowan to understand through the power of eye contact. “I think that’s why I didn’t notice, you know? I was—I mean, we were friends, but then you moved in to help me look after Kaira, and that was kind of…. It was domestic. It was never—I never treated you like a nanny. I never saw you that way, I guess.”
Nope, Rowan still didn’t get it. “Uh… that’s okay,” he said. “I know I’m—we’re still going to be friends.” Though long-distance ones, probably, once Jordy got traded. The kind who lost touch after a few months and then maybe only sent Christmas cards for a year or two, but never deleted each other’s contact information.
When Rowan offered nothing more, Jordy ran a hand through his hair again and went on. “But then we started sleeping together, and that’s where it all fell apart for me. I started treating you like a partner, not—not a friend or a nanny. And I couldn’t see that I had put those expectations on you without, uh, talking to you about any of it. Because it was nice for me to have that.”
Rowan’s poor, stupid heart cracked.
It was nice for me to have that.
That was what Rowan was. A nice thing for Jordy to have, without thinking about.
Jordy made a move like he wanted to step closer, but he stopped when Rowan released his grip on the counter and leaned back.
“For the past six years, it’s just been me and Kaira. I thought focusing on her was the right thing to do. And it was, or it wasn’t the wrong thing. I wasn’t ready for anything else. And then there you were, and there, uh, we were”—Rowan had a visceral, ill-timed flashback to the wall episode—“and you were just there, all the time. Not just for Kaira but for me too. And I took advantage of that without thinking about it.”
Jordy paused for breath, his cheeks flushed, and ran a hand through his hair. He was talking quickly, like he needed to get this conversation over with. Like he was ripping off a Band-Aid.
Rowan’s stomach flipped and his lungs cramped. His mouth wouldn’t open.
“And it was easy . I didn’t even know I had almost everything I could want until I lost what I had with you.”
Almost everything.
“And that’s what made it so hard to pick a nanny,” Jordy pushed on, like he didn’t know he was stomping on Rowan’s dreams right in front of his eyes. “It wasn’t really a nanny I wanted anymore, because I’m finally ready for a partner . Someone who’s there for both of us. Someone I can share the burden with, not that—I mean, Kaira isn’t a burden, but—choosing what’s for dinner and what color to paint the guest bathroom and where to go on vacation. That’s what I want, but I didn’t know it. Um, until now.”
If that wasn’t a kick in the chest—to realize he’d been the pale imitation that made Jordy realize he wanted the real thing.
Rowan’s heart seized, because he knew the feeling. Jordy was everything Rowan had never known he’d wanted, everything he’d never had, and Rowan was so goddamn in love with him that he wasn’t sure he’d ever get over it.
Rowan loved him—had done for months—and now was a hell of a time to throw off all his denial and finally admit to it. Rowan was in love with a man who saw him as a stand-in. Rowan was imitation cheese.
This was Devon Jones all over again, the “straight” boy Rowan had kissed and been thoroughly rejected by for being so very wrong about Devon’s sexuality… six months before Devon started publicly dating another boy.
Only this time it was so much worse. Rowan hadn’t loved Devon.
Belatedly Rowan realized Jordy was standing there waiting, like there was an expected, scripted reply Rowan was supposed to give and he couldn’t relax until he did.
Rowan had no idea what that might be. You’re welcome seemed a bit… off. “Right. Well, I’m glad you’ve had your epiphany.” He hoped he sounded normal and not like a man who’d had his own gut-wrenching epiphany not thirty seconds prior.
“I—” Jordy was still going for eye contact, but Rowan couldn’t meet his gaze. He needed to get out of here. “You—you deserved to know why I—”
“Yes.” Rowan nodded, then nodded again like an idiot. He couldn’t stop nodding. He took a step toward the door. “Anyway, I have stuff to get done. Paperwork to fill out. Things to do. Early rise tomorrow. Night.”
Then he fled.
Once in his suite with the door locked behind him, Rowan crumpled. God, he was such an idiot. How long had he spent deep in denial about his own feelings in a deluded attempt to protect himself? Naturally this only set him up for worse heartbreak. Because there was nothing hypothetical about Jordy and their relationship now. Rowan knew exactly who and what he was losing—what he’d be missing for the rest of his life. No one could blame him for going to bed about it.