Chapter 19 Noah
NINETEEN
NOAH
“Ollie,” I call. “Come on. We’ve got to meet your mom in fifteen minutes.”
I pluck his bag off the floor and hold it out. The thing has to weigh fifteen pounds. Probably because of the damn Chromebook he has to tote back and forth to school every day. Kids his age will probably end up with back problems later in life from lugging all this stuff around.
Then again, the five textbooks I once hauled around in a tattered JanSport were likely worse.
“Ollie,” I holler from the doorway.
My six-year-old saunters out of his room, the picture of nonchalance, wearing a pair of aviators, new Michael Jordan sneakers, and what I swear are skinny jeans.
Daniel, my teammate-slash-brother-in-law, took him shopping this week, and Ollie has come out in a new outfit every day since.
I can already picture Jen’s eye roll. She complains often about how spoiled our son is, but I swear I have no hand in it, despite my hefty salary.
We’re aligned when it comes to the values we want to instill in him.
We both strive to shape him into a humble, hardworking person.
Hannah and Daniel are the problem. They’re both over-the-top in all kinds of ways, and Ollie is good at exploiting that.
My son stops halfway across the room and waves a hand, motioning to my stance. “You’re killing my vibes, Dad. You’re killing my vibes.”
I groan. My kid is so much cooler than me and he knows it. Fortunately he still thinks I’m cooler than his stepdad. “You have everything you need for school tomorrow?”
Ollie’s mom and I have a fifty-fifty custody arrangement.
My games typically fall on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, so those are Jen’s nights, game or not, and we trade off on weekends during the offseason.
It means a lot of shuffling around, but it’s important to both of us that we get quality time with our son.
It hasn’t always been easy, but Jen and Ted and I make a good team.
Even if I do like that Ollie thinks I’m cooler than Ted.
When I’m traveling, Jen often keeps Ollie on my assigned days, though sometimes she lets him stay with Hannah or my dad.
In general, though, he bounces back and forth pretty frequently between our two homes.
I bought a three-bedroom condo near the arena, and Jen and Ted live in a townhome and added a little girl to their family two years ago.
Though I don’t have a game today, it’s Thursday, so tonight will be a quiet, lonely night for me.
I hate being off when Ollie isn’t here. I rarely get out of the house these days unless it’s with him because I want to be around for the little time we do have together.
Fortunately, Jen had a meeting after work today and asked if I’d pick him up and keep him for a few hours.
But she’ll be home any minute now, so we need to head her way.
Besides, Hannah talked me into meeting her and the guys at the tattoo shop.
She and Daniel are getting matching ink and have turned the event into some kind of party, hence the reason my presence is required.
They turn everything into a party, so I should have known the moment she mentioned it that she wouldn’t let me decline.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I finally herd Ollie out into the hall. I’m digging the device out when he makes a beeline for the door directly across from mine. I snag him by the back of his sweatshirt, giving up on checking my phone, to keep him from walking in without knocking.
“Aunt Hannah isn’t even home.” Keeping hold of him, I snatch his jacket off the hook in the entryway and pull the door shut.
While I lock up, Ollie peers up at me, eyes narrowed, like he doesn’t believe me. “What about Daniel?”
“Nope.”
He glares at the door and sighs.
I don’t know whether to laugh or shake my head when he cops an attitude like this. I swear he’s six going on sixteen.
War’s son Brayden is practically grown now, but already, Ollie acts just like him. Despite the sarcastic attitude, Brayden is a good kid, so I’m holding out hope that my little guy will be at that age too.
For the most part, he’s polite. He just doesn’t hide how he feels, and I can’t fault him for that. “Fine,” he says, his shoulders slumping. “Let’s go. But can we get icees on the way?”
“It’s almost dinnertime,” I remind him. Even as I say it, I know I’ll stop and pick one up for him. I’ll just have him put it in the freezer until after dinner.
I slip my phone out of my pocket and shoot Jen a text to let her know we’re running a couple of minutes behind, then toggle over to the group chat that’s had my phone buzzing in my pocket nonstop for the last several minutes.
War: What’s the plan for tonight? Are we going out after?
Aiden: Lex and I are down for that.
Brooks: I’m not sure why I have to come. Have you all forgotten that I have a baby at home?
Aiden: Your wife told my wife to tell everyone you’re coming. She’s got plans for you.
Brooks: I’m sitting right next to the three of you. Why are you texting me?
Chuckling, I close out the chat and pocket the phone, which continues to buzz as the Langfield brothers argue.
I couldn’t be happier about how the move to Boston has turned out. Not only has Ollie really gotten to know Hannah and my dad—once-or-twice-a-year visits and FaceTime only do so much—but I’m once again playing with War and Brooks.
The team is incredibly tight-knit and the guys instantly brought me into the fold.
We’ve got a good shot at the playoffs this year, and since I’m at the tail end of this contract, I’ll do everything I can to make it happen.
With any luck, the Bolts will renew my contract, but if they don’t, then before long, I may be announcing my retirement.
My kid is in Boston, so this is where I’ll stay, hockey or not.
“Where are you playing this weekend?” he asks as we wait at the drive-thru window for his icee.
“Chicago. I’ll be back on Sunday, though, and you and I have a date at the aquarium.”
He nods. “I have baseball tryouts on Saturday.”
It’s T-ball, and I’m aware. My son hasn’t shown much interest in hockey, but after attending a few Revs games with Hannah last season—which included being brought out onto the field and sitting in the dugout—he’s obsessed with the sport. “Ted is taking you, I think.”
Ollie drops his head back against the seat, his expression one of exasperation. “I don’t have the energy to pretend that I believe he can handle that.”
I cough out a laugh, and with a grin, I peer at him where he’s buckled in behind me. “He’s just got to drive you there and watch.”
He slips his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, his blue eyes shrewd, and eyes me in the rearview mirror. “As I was saying.”
Over my shoulder, I assure him, “I’ll come to as many games as possible. Promise.”
He lets out a dramatic sigh but gives me a serious nod. He knows the drill. Unfortunately.
I pay for his icee with cash, and when the woman hands me my change, Oliver perks up.
I drop the three-quarters into the cupholder, and before I pull away, I flip each dollar bill over. With each one I examine, my disappointment grows, but I keep my expression neutral.
“No name?” Ollie asks.
I shake my head and stuff the money into my pocket. It’s stupid that I still check. But for almost five years, I did it religiously.
It’s possible Sienna never even wrote her name and number on one like she said, and after Brooks’s wedding, I know how to find her.
Hell, she’s the baby sister of two of my closest friends.
Two guys I’m meeting up with tonight. She lives in this city now, if what I overheard them talking about is true.
But the night I saw her kissing that man, I vowed to myself to let her go.
I should have done it long ago, really. The morning after I discovered who she was, it hit me just how difficult it would have been to date Sienna Langfield when one of her brothers is my coach, two more are my teammates, and the oldest is the head of the Bolts’ parent organization.
All of that equates to way too much risk to my career, and since my spot on this team keeps me in Boston near my son, I won’t jeopardize it.
And she’s with someone else anyway. I like to think that she’s happy, though I’ve never asked.
Since Ollie was old enough to notice the way I study every bill, he’s been invested in the search too. For the last couple of years, we’ve had a routine. If I find a dollar with a name and number written on it belonging to someone who isn’t Sienna, then I give it to him. If it’s blank, I keep it.
So he pays extra attention. Now, though it hurts to look, I do it for him. It’s bittersweet and probably a habit I should break soon. It can’t be healthy to still be so consumed by emotions for a woman I can never have.
By the time I pull into the lot of the tattoo shop, I have more than one hundred text notifications waiting. Almost every one of them is from the group chat. When I throw my door open and step out, the whole crowd cheers from where they wait outside the front doors.
As I approach, Hannah is eyeing Daniel with a wicked grin.
“What about a clit piercing?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Naturally that’s the part of the conversation I’d have to walk up on.
Grimacing, I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Again, why am I here?”
Brooks shakes his head. “I have no idea why any of us are here. Me especially. I’d like to get home to my wife and baby, if you all don’t mind, so let’s get this party started.”
Hannah rolls her eyes. “Your baby is fine. She’s with my baby and Liv. And your wife was very clear. Tattoo her name on your balls like War did for Ava. She birthed your progeny, so you owe her that.”
War chuckles and pulls Ava, whose cheeks are crimson, against his chest.
Meanwhile my own balls have shriveled up into my body. There are things friends don’t need to know about one another, this being one of them. But since my friends are far too open, I’m privy to far too many of their secrets.