Chapter 54 Everett
EVERETT
Beatrice ordered me extra Chinese.
That bag isn’t just full of leftovers. Somehow, she managed to order all my favorite dishes along with extra spring rolls.
I stand and stare at it all for a little too long before she comes back dressed in just a T-shirt, her face free of makeup and her hair twisted on top of her head.
She doesn’t understand, but no one has ever thought of me like that before.
She knew I’d be hungry and jealous of the leftovers she was bringing home, and she made sure I had enough.
Together, we sit at the island and graze through everything she brought home.
I’d felt on edge the whole night, knowing that she was out with Parker and the girls.
Not because she was spending time with them; I just…
I really wanted them to like her, to embrace her as part of the group, because she deserves to have as many people on her team as possible.
Hell knows that I’m not going to be enough.
Sure, she has Sienna and the other girls at the salon, but she’s about to be a first-time mom who doesn’t have her family around her for support.
Her excitement is palpable as she tells me all about her night, and I’m buzzing for her that she’s made new friends. I just hope that together, we’re able to give her everything she’s going to need in the coming months and years.
As much as I can promise that I’ll be here to support her, the truth is that I’ll be away more often than not during the season. She’s going to need an army around her. Luckily, I happen to know a group of fierce women who will help her every step of the way.
We eat until we can’t fit any more in, and, looking utterly wiped out, I send Bea to bed.
As I begin tidying up, she pauses before slipping around the corner to her bedroom.
“Everett,” she whispers.
Glancing over my shoulder, I find her standing there with her fingers nervously twisted in the fabric of her T-shirt.
“What’s up, sweetheart?” I ask, hope surging through me that she’s going to ask for a repeat of last night. I can’t deny that I slept better than I have in a long time with her curled up beside me.
“I …um…” A smile twitches at my lips, excited to hear her invitation. But when she finds the words she’s looking for, I’m left cold. “I’m sorry about last night. I’m…uh…not really sure I was…I’m sorry.”
Before I can respond, she darts around the corner and disappears from my sight.
I sleep like shit, and I’m a miserable fucker from the moment I crawl out of bed late the next morning.
Bea was ill again, but instead of rushing into her bathroom as I had before, I hesitated.
Her apology last night repeats over and over in my head, reminding me what she said she didn’t want out of this arrangement.
Me.
Pain wraps around my chest, squeezing tight. She’s willing to use me as much as I am her. But she’s only in this for the money and the support. She’s not in it for me.
I stay hidden as she gets ready for work and then disappears, leaving the apartment cold and empty.
Eventually, I drag my sorry ass out of bed and set about my day.
I spend a few hours in the gym, hoping that I can banish my mood, but as I sit at the island with my laptop later that afternoon, going through emails, it becomes more than obvious it hasn’t worked.
I was feeling better, and I put it down to spending time with Bea. But right now, she’s closer than ever, literally right under my roof, but I’m spiraling again.
It’s late afternoon, and I’m lounging on the couch with a baseball game playing on the TV, when a video call lights up my laptop.
My first reaction is to reject it. It’s probably what they expect me to do. But for some reason, when I move my mouse, it’s not to hover over the red disconnect button; instead, I hit the green one.
“Oh my god, he’s alive,” Mom cries the second her and Dad’s images appear on the screen before me.
“Ha, you’re funny,” I mutter before sipping on my coffee.
“How’s it going, son? Are you managing to relax and recoup?
” Dad asks, all too aware of how exhausting a full hockey season is, especially when you go all the way in the playoffs.
The only thing I’m not sure he understands is just how hard it is for me to break routine.
I rely on the constant demands on my time during the season.
It stops me from getting too much in my head— or at least, it used to.
This last season was a whole new beast. Losing like we did in Seattle fucked me up.
I’d hoped that my trade would have banished it, but it’s still lingering.
“Yeah, you know.”
“You should book a vacation. Parker and Linc are glowing after theirs.”
And we all know why.
“Yeah, I’ll see if I can squeeze one in. I’ve got quite a few things up in the air right now.”
“Oh yeah? Things have been a little quiet, from what we can tell,” Mom says suspiciously.
I can’t help but groan. “Have you been stalking me online again?”
“Well, a mother has to do something when her son chooses not to keep her in the loop,” she chastises with one brow raised.
She’s teasing me, I know she is, but it doesn’t stop my stomach from knotting like I’m disappointing them yet again.
“We did see you out with a woman,” Dad says. It seems the news of my date with Bea has reached them, wherever they are right now. Parker keeps up with their jet-setting, but I lost track a long time ago.
“Anything you need to tell us?” Mom asks hopefully.
She’s made no secret of the fact that she thinks I should calm my fuckboy ways and settle down. Of course, Linc did exactly that with my sister earlier in the year, only forcing her to bring it up that much more often.
I get it; no mother wants to read the kind of things that are written about me online.
She’d much rather I be a sweet boy like Monroe.
But I’m pretty sure she learned early on that I was never going to be that kind of man.
I was feral as a toddler, from what I’ve heard, and not a lot has changed.
Dad said he knew the very first time I took to the ice, wanting to be just like him, that I was going to be a D man.
Apparently, I took down a three-year-old like I had a chance at winning the Stanley Cup single-handedly during my very first game.
My fate was set right then and there. There isn’t anything else I've ever wanted to do.
“Mom,” I groan, scrubbing my hand down my face.
I’ve got so much I need to tell them. So many things, I’m sure, that’ll disappoint them.
“Everett, are you okay?” Dad asks, his voice suddenly taking on a serious tone.
Shit. I don’t want to worry them. I just …
“Her name is Bea,” I blurt, the words falling from my lips without permission.
“Oh my gosh,” Mom gasps. “It’s happening. It’s actually happening.”
The smile on her face is something I want to remember forever. She looks so happy, so proud of me. It’s a real shame to have to ruin that with the truth.
“Mom,” I warn.
She waves me off. “Tell me everything,” she pleads excitedly.
I shake my head, trying to stop myself from smiling, but even in the mood I’m in, it’s almost impossible not to when I think about Bea.
“Okay, fine. I met her on a night out after a game and—” Dad groans, predicting what happened that night.
Mom sighs, her hands against her cheeks as she focuses on all the romance she’s hoping will follow.
She may as well have hearts in her eyes.
“She’s the one, isn’t she? You chased her down because you needed to see her again.
Was it love at first sight? Oh, are we going to have two weddings to plan? ”
“Alison, will you please calm down? You’ll be buying things for their firstborn next.”
My stomach turns over.
I’m going to break my mother’s heart.
“Um…so, Bea…she’s…uh…”
The sound of the front door unlocking has my heart jumping into my throat.
“Rett, what’s wrong?” Dad asks, probably able to see the blood drain from my face.
“Honey, I’m home,” Bea sings happily. “My last client of the day was a no-show, so Sienna made me leave so I could take a nap and—” Her words falter as she steps into the living room and must see the same panic on my face that my parents can.
“Oh crap, are you on a call? I’m so sorry; I’ll just disappear. Pretend I was never here.”
There are two long seconds of silence before my mom’s voice fills the apartment.
“Oh no, there will be no running away. Bea, honey, come over here. Let us meet you.”
Bea’s wide eyes meet mine before she mouths, “I’m so sorry.” But it’s too late.
I’d already dipped my toe into this confession; now there’s no coming back from it.
Sucking in a deep, calming breath, I hold my hand out for her.
“Come over here, sweetheart. Come and meet my parents.”
I’m pretty sure she’s going to vomit on her feet.
It takes her a second, but eventually, she edges closer, slips her hand into mine, and drops into my side before appearing beside me on the screen.
Mom’s smile practically splits her face, and Dad’s isn’t all that much smaller.
“Hey,” Bea says nervously, giving them a little wave with her hand that isn’t twisted with mine.
I should let her go, but having her fingers interlaced with mine feels too good.
“It’s so good to meet you. Rett was just about to tell us all about you. Now you’re here, you can do it yourself.”
Bea glances at me, silently asking if my mom is telling the truth. Of course she is; there isn’t a dishonest bone in Alison Donnelly’s body.
I nod once and force the best smile I can onto my face before Bea starts giving them a little information. She misses out the most important bit, and the longer the time goes on, the bigger the elephant in the room gets.
Just pull the Band-Aid off. It’ll be better in the long run, a little voice tells me. But I don’t believe it.
My parents might be excited about the thought of a grandchild, but they’ll only know part of the story. The fact that mine and Bea’s time together is only temporary kills me, and I have no doubt they’ll feel exactly the same when the inevitable happens.
They’re going to be incredible grandparents, just like they were parents. I just wish I could give it to them in the way I’m sure they dream of. In the way I’ve no doubt Linc and Parker will.
Releasing Bea’s hand, I wrap my arm around her shoulder, tugging her closer into my side.
“We’ve actually been seeing each other for a while,” I confess. “We’ve kept it secret so that we could explore what’s between us without the media spotlight on us.”
“Understandable,” Mom agrees. “I remember all too well what it’s like snagging one of hockey’s most eligible bachelors,” she teases, elbowing Dad in the side.
“Yeah, exactly. The thing is, though,” I say, my heart racing faster than I’m sure is healthy as I prepare to say the words that are going to send their world into a tailspin.
My free hand slides over and presses against Bea’s swollen belly, trying my best to make this look as real as possible.
Mom gasps.
“Bea’s pregnant. We’re having a baby.”