Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
ALEC
The twins are in the kitchen eating cereal when I show up searching for coffee on Friday morning. Theo is staring at his spoon with bloodshot eyes, like even the idea of lifting it and dipping it into his cereal bowl is exhausting, so they must have been out late. We played and lost a messy game last night, so we were all in a low mood when we came home. When I got home and realized Evie had already gone to bed, I went straight to my room and crashed and assumed the twins did the same, but I was zoned out enough they could have gone back out without me realizing.
I swallow my judgments as I fill a travel mug with coffee. It’s not like I never partied when I was their age, but partying was never more important than hockey, and that meant taking care of my body.
I shoot Carter a concerned look, and he shrugs as if to say there’s nothing he can do about it. The trouble is, there’s a lot Carter is already doing that he doesn’t realize. I’d put money on him being the older twin because he looks out for his brother in ways that Theo never reciprocates. Carter is the one who makes sure they get to practices and games on time. Carter is the one who takes care of their meals, who does their laundry. He shouldn’t have to do any of that, and I’m not sure why he does.
Except, Theo probably has the edge on the ice, and they’re both better together than they are on their own. That might be enough motivation for Carter to cave and keep acting the adult. He knows he has a better shot of a big career with Theo beside him.
That will all go away if Theo doesn’t stop messing around. He needs a lot more than raw talent to make it in this sport. He needs focus. Discipline. Work ethic. And leaning on his brother will only get him so far.
I lean against the counter to face them. “So about the dinner tonight,” I say to Carter, hoping Felix will forgive me. “The dream team dinner. Why don’t the two of you come?”
Carter lifts his eyebrows. “Really?”
I push my hands into the pockets of my joggers. Here lately, Carter has been a lot more amenable to hanging out with the team than Theo has, which means it almost never happens. Usually, Carter caves and does whatever Theo wants to do instead. I can’t figure it out. The longer Theo is here, the more time he spends on the ice, the more miserable he seems to be. “Yeah. Really. I’d like you to be there.”
Carter looks over at his brother, but Theo quickly shoots him down.
“Can’t,” he says through a mouthful of Raisin Bran. “We’ve got plans. Dates.”
Dates at least feels safer than the two of them going out and partying on their own. Still, I’d rather they be somewhere I can keep an eye on them.
“Bring them,” I say.
“We could—” Carter says, but Theo cuts him off.
“Sorry,” he says, eying his brother. “There’s this place on the other side of town I want to check out. I already told the girls about it.”
“What place?”
“For real? Do you grill everyone on the team like this?” Theo asks, and my jaw tightens.
“Not trying to grill you, man. But I’ve been at this a lot longer than you have. I’m just trying to look out for you.”
His shoulders drop the slightest bit. “It’s called The Steam Engine. It’s kinda like a club, but on Friday nights, they have college night with a theme and everything, and tonight it’s line dancing.” He motions to his brother. “That’s one thing we know how to do, so we’re going.”
I look at Carter.
He nods enough to confirm Theo’s story checks out, so I breathe out a sigh. “All right. But we have an early game on Saturday. That means we have to be at the Summit even earlier, so don’t mess around. And no drinking.”
Theo rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, Dad. As soon as we leave the club, we’ll come back like good little children and do exactly what you say.”
I look from one brother to the other, remembering so easily what it was like to be as young as they are. I had a little more structure than they do, playing four years at Cornell, which made it easier to transition into adulthood. But these guys were basically thrown into the deep end, and they’re barely adults. It’s a lot to ask.
But Theo is acting like he doesn’t want to be on the team at all. I don’t need him to do everything I say, but I am his captain, and that’s a title that deserves at least some level of respect, especially from someone so new to the team.
I pull a barstool away from the counter and position it directly across from Theo. “Carter, can you give us a minute?”
He shoots a concerned glance at his brother, then slides off his barstool. He puts his plate in the sink, then leaves me in the kitchen with Theo.
“Hey,” I say, waiting for him to make eye contact. When he finally does, I add, “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on here?”
He shrugs dismissively. “Nothing’s going on.” He lifts his hand to his mouth and starts biting at his thumbnail, eyes averted.
“When did you start playing hockey?” I ask.
He clearly wasn’t expecting the question, because he looks right at me, eyebrows raised.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It doesn’t. I’m just making conversation.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, his gaze assessing, before he says, “We were little. Barely walking. My dad plays, or…played, I guess.”
“Was he pro?” I ask, and Theo shakes his head.
“Just beer leagues. He maybe could have done more, but he was in a car accident in college that screwed up his back. He was never the same after.” He slides his bowl forward, the spoon clattering against the ceramic. “He always hoped we would, though.”
“And now you are,” I say. “That must make him proud.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Theo says, his voice distant. “He died last year. Another car accident. What are the odds, right?”
Suddenly, everything Theo is doing makes so much more sense, and my heart nearly breaks for the kid. He’s not angry because he’s a stupid punk kid. He’s angry because he’s grieving.
“I’m sorry about your dad, Theo. That really sucks.”
He shoves back from the counter, his barstool scuffing against the floor. “Look, you don’t have to do this,” he says, waving his hand in my general direction. “Help, or whatever. I just want to play hockey. I don’t need a heart-to-heart with the team captain to do that.”
I push my palms against my thighs, debating how I should play this. Theo needs compassion—his dad only died a year ago—but he also might need some tough love.
“You do if your captain is worried you’re screwing yourself over.”
He rolls his eyes. “Whatever, man. How about I worry about my game, and you worry about yours? And you should worry. Word is there are a couple of rookies who are looking to take your spot.”
My jaw clenches, but I don’t move while Theo stalks out of the kitchen. He’s trying to antagonize me, and I won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he has.
Last night, in a post-game locker room interview, a journalist got particularly pointed with her questions. “There’s been talk from inside sources that your knee is giving you trouble. In light of the numerous surgeries you’ve already had, your physical limitations, and the strength of rookie defenders like the Williamson twins, are you giving any serious thought to retirement?”
It’s one thing to have the team talking about my knee. To have the general public speculating about my future like it’s no big deal is a new level of frustration. To them, it’s just a question. A matter of who will be on the ice next season. For me, it’s my life. My livelihood.
“Well, that was an intense conversation to have before coffee.”
I turn to see Evie standing in between the living room and the kitchen, Juno in her arms. She’s dressed for work in jeans and a plaid shirt tied at her waist, Juno’s diaper bag draped over her shoulder. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and I’m struck for the millionth time by how beautiful she is. At the sight of her, some of the tension in my shoulders melts away.
“You heard that?” I ask.
“I stopped at the bottom of the stairs because I didn’t want to interrupt.” She takes a step closer and drops her bag onto the couch. “He shouldn’t have said that, Alec. About you and your spot on the team.”
“I’m not worried about that,” I say, even though it isn’t the full truth. This season hasn’t gone at all like I wanted it to, and I hate thinking about what happens next. But that’s on me. It doesn’t have anything to do with Theo.
“I could be wrong,” Evie says, “but it sounds like Theo might be doing a little bit of self-sabotage.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe he feels guilty about playing? About enjoying his life when his dad isn’t around to see him do it?”
I lean forward and prop my elbows on the counter. “Yeah, maybe. I just wish I could help him. I don’t want to push, but none of the other guys know what he’s been through. I don’t want him to get himself in trouble, and if something doesn’t change, he will.”
“That might be what he wants,” Evie says. “If he gets kicked off the team, he can’t feel guilty about playing.”
“But I think he really wants to play,” I say.
“Does the team have a psychologist on staff?”
“Not on staff. But there’s one the team refers us to if we need it. He’s great. I’ve seen him a few times. Nathan, too. And he and Felix are basically best friends.”
She tilts her head and smiles. “So you’re saying real men aren’t afraid of boybands or therapy.”
I chuckle. “I’d also wear that t-shirt.”
“It’s a lot that he even told you about his dad,” she says. “And you’re showing him you’re a safe space by not taking his attitude personally. Maybe just give him a little more time. He might still open up.“
I stand and move toward her, crouching down so I’m eye level with Juno. “Yeah. I just hope he doesn’t screw himself over in the meantime.” I take Juno’s hand and let her wrap her fist around my pointer finger. “Hey, Juno.” I look up at Evie. “She looks bigger today. Is that possible?”
“I actually had the same thought,” she says. “I have no idea how, but yeah. She totally does.”
Juno drops my finger, and I lift a hand to her head, brushing it lightly over her wispy curls. When my gaze shifts back to Evie, there’s a sadness to her expression that I can’t quite define. It wasn’t there moments before, but it’s there now, and it makes my gut tighten with unease. Have I missed something going on with her because I’ve been caught up in my own problems? Caught up with the twins?
I lift a hand to her face, every other frustration and worry vaporizing in an instant. Right now, I only see her.
“Hey. What’s wrong? Why are you frowning?”
She leans into the touch, and for a split second, I think about what it would be like to kiss her.
But then Evie gives her head a little shake, and her expression shifts. “Nothing,” she says before licking her lips. “I’m good. Just…it’s nothing.”
I narrow my eyes. It’s definitely not nothing. As far as I know, work has been going great for her this week. And Juno has done well with Ruth. Could it be Devon who’s made her upset?
Down the hall, the twins’ footsteps sound as they head toward the garage, and I glance at my watch. We’ve been riding to practice together, and it’s just about time for us to go.
“Early practice?” Evie asks, and my hand falls away from her face. Every other morning this week, I’ve still been home when she’s left for work. But I have to be at the Summit an hour earlier than normal to review game tapes before tomorrow’s match-up.
“Yeah. But the twins can wait for me. Are you sure you’re okay?”
She breathes out a sigh. “I’m okay. I just…seeing you like this, with Juno, it makes me think of her very absent father.”
So it is Devon making her upset. The thought makes anger curl in my stomach. How is he not here right now? Watching Juno grow up? Supporting Evie like she deserves to be supported? Somehow, I simultaneously want the guy to step up because Evie and Juno both deserve so much better than what they’re getting, and also stay far, far away. Because if he’s out of the picture, there might be room for me to be the better they deserve.
I still have no idea what it would look like if I were to play a permanent role in Evie and Juno’s lives. I just know that whenever I’m standing next to her, my desire to try is stronger than any fear suggesting I shouldn’t.
“Does he not want to see her at all?” I ask, the words tasting sour.
“Apparently, he does now,” she says, a bitter edge to her words. “That’s the problem.” She reaches up and rests a palm on my chest. “I want to have this conversation with you, but it will probably be easier if we have more time. Tonight, maybe?”
I nod. “Of course. Are you still good to go to dinner at Felix’s place?”
Her lips lift into a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I definitely want to go to dinner. Maybe we can talk on the way?”
Reluctantly, I nod and move back into the kitchen to grab my keys and the coffee still waiting for me on the counter. But then I find myself crossing the room back to Evie, needing one more touch, one more connection before I go.
Without thinking, I lift my hand to Juno’s back and lean down, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head, then I shift over to Evie. I slide my fingers around the back of her neck, letting my fingers brush against her hair. She looks up at me, her expression warm and open, and I intuitively know she’d let me kiss her if I tried.
Right here. On an early Friday morning. I could lean down and kiss her goodbye just like couples do. I could, and it would feel like we’re a family. Living together, spending mornings together. But that would be doing things backward. Evie is only staying here temporarily, and I can’t let the forced proximity rush us through the moments that really ought to matter more.
I force my eyes away from her lips. I will not kiss Evie for the first time on my way out the door, while her daughter is in her arms.
Evie narrows her gaze. “Alec Sheridan, what are you thinking right now?”
Based on her flirty smile, I’m guessing she knows exactly what I’m thinking. But I won’t admit it out loud.
I chuckle. “I’ll never tell.”
She cocks her head to the side, lips pursed like she’s studying me. Then she shifts Juno a little higher on her hip, pushes up onto her toes and presses a lingering kiss to my jaw, just below my ear. “I bet you will eventually,” she whispers, her words brushing across my skin.
Fire slices through my veins. Maybe I don’t actually need to go to practice today.
Maybe Carter needs to come in here and hold Juno—he did say he knows how—so I can kiss this woman properly.
“Hey, Captain, you coming?” Carter asks, sticking his head into the room from the hallway.
I breathe out a sigh. “I’ll be right there,” I say to Carter. Then I look back at Evie.
She smiles and pats my chest dismissively, like she knows exactly how hard she’s making it to walk away.
“Time to go be a hockey captain,” she says, and I drop my head, pressing my forehead to hers.
“I’m really looking forward to seeing you tonight,” I say.
“Me too,” she whispers.
The heat of her kiss is still lingering on my cheek when I reach the garage and find the twins waiting for me, leaning against my truck. It takes all my effort to force my mind off Evie’s lips and back onto the twins, so the first few minutes of the drive pass in silence, though Carter does keep shooting me concerned looks from the front seat.
Rightly so, since he still has no idea how my conversation with Theo went.
Through the rearview mirror, I watch as Theo pulls a pair of headphones out of his bag and slips them over his ears. He folds his arms over his chest and closes his eyes.
“Sorry, man,” Carter says under his breath. “He isn’t usually such a jerk. He’s just…going through some stuff.”
I glance at Carter. “Yeah. He told me about your dad.”
Carter’s eyes widen. “He told you about him?”
“Just that he passed away,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
Carter nods. “Is that…all he told you? That he died?”
“There’s more to it?” I ask, and Carter breathes out a sigh.
“Theo was driving,” Carter says, his voice almost too soft for me to hear. “It wasn’t his fault. They were t-boned. The other driver went straight through an intersection. But…I think he still blames himself.”
“Carter, that’s—I’m really sorry, man.”
He nods. “Thanks. It…sucks. Theo hasn’t really been the same since.”
“Has he talked to someone about it?”
“What, like a shrink or whatever?” Carter says. “Mom tried but Theo wouldn’t do it. I can’t even get him to talk to me, and he talks to me about everything.”
“How are you holding up?”
He looks over his shoulder at his brother. “I’m the oldest. Only by a few minutes, but I’ve always been the oldest. One of us has to keep it together, right?”
I drive in silence for a beat, considering Carter’s words. He’s a good kid, and I understand well what it feels like to look out for a younger sibling, to be strong so they don’t have to be. But he has just as much right to grieve as his brother.
“I think he just misses Mom,” Carter says more to himself than to me. “But he’ll be all right. I’ll make sure he is.”
“Carter, do you need to talk to someone?” I ask. “There’s no shame in it.”
“Nah,” he says, his Texas drawl a little more pronounced than it usually is. “I just need to skate. Stay busy. I miss my dad, but…I know what he’d want is for me to play, focus, make something of myself. So that’s what I’m trying to do.”
“I can respect that,” I say. “But it doesn’t have to be one or the other. If you need to talk to someone, there’s a therapist the team uses. A lot of guys go. I’ve been a few times myself. Just say the word, and I’ll make it happen. Or if you don’t want something so official, you can always talk to me.”
He nods. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“Can I give you some advice about hockey?” I ask, and Carter nods. I’m going out on a limb here, guessing at the dynamic based on my observations, but I’m pretty sure I’m right. “I know you want to take care of your brother. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But you have just as much potential to be a star as he does. Don’t treat him like he’s your only shot at making it to the NHL. I’m glad you told me what he’s going through. And I respect your desire to take care of him. But at least when it comes to the team, don’t fight his battles. It won’t help you any more than it helps him.”
Carter is quiet for a beat before he says, “I just don’t want him to get himself in trouble.”
“I get that,” I say. “But he’ll take you down with him, Carter.”
“Then I’ll go down with him,” he says. “Because I won’t play without him.” He clenches his jaw as he shifts his gaze out the window, and I know our conversation is over.
When we pull into the parking lot at the Summit, I watch Theo with new eyes as he shoves his headphones into his bag and climbs out of the truck. Knowing what I know now, it’s hard to blame him for the way he’s been acting.
Evie’s words echo in my mind. Don’t give up on him.
I’m his captain. It’s my job to look out for him. I just have to hope he’ll let me.