Chapter 31 #2
Things with my sister have been great too. I’ve gone over to the Kolburnes’ house a bunch of times, and it’s been really cool to see her have an actual family. They love her. I can see it in their eyes.
But even though things are good in so many parts of my life, everything with Jeff is still lingering in the back of my mind. I can’t call him Dad—because it just doesn’t feel right.
Lilly doesn’t have any interest in having a relationship with him right now.
She said maybe down the road, but now that she’s seen what a real dad is like, she knows ours was never that.
She even wrote Jeff a letter, where she told him that she forgives him for everything he did during her childhood, but that she can’t let him close to her right now.
She told him that she is finally happy and feels safe and that she’s afraid he’d ruin that for her.
When she told me about the letter, she also told me how guilty she feels because she knows he’s doing good, and she doesn’t want to be the reason he relapses, but that it had taken her years to heal from the day she was ripped away from me and out of our home, and letting Jeff in could ruin that.
I never asked him to stay away from me. I did go to his house, stood on his doorstep the day after Thanksgiving, and told him that I wasn’t ready for him to be a big part of my life and maybe never would be, but that I didn’t want him to relapse either.
He promised me he wouldn’t. Although I have mixed feelings about it …
he randomly comes to my games. He doesn’t come up to me after; he just sits in the stands and watches.
I watch the game go on, and once again, my girl blocks another puck. Her blonde hair is in a braid that swings around from under her helmet, making me want to tug the elastic down and set her wild curls free.
“Hunt, you’re up!” Coach Talmage calls, and quickly, I pull my helmet on and head back out onto the ice.
This is the most fun the team has had all season. The guys taunt the women players, and the women taunt us right back, only much harsher, but it’s all in good humor.
“Your girlfriend is sort of a badass,” Jameson says, skating behind me. “She’s keeping up with everything I’m throwing at her.”
I grin proudly down toward the other end.
When we were at that hockey camp in New Hampshire, I knew she was good, but a part of me did wonder if she was only being taken seriously on the ice because of who her dad was.
Now that I’ve had the honor of watching her take on a position she really didn’t have all that much experience with, I know that’s not the truth. The woman is a fucking machine.
Once he’s gone, Margo skates beside me, bumping her elbow into my side.
“He’s right, you know,” she mutters. I’m pretty sure if she’s about to give Isla a compliment, it’s not going to come out easy. “I was wrong. She belongs on the ice, no matter what her last name is.”
I have just enough time to glance at her, clearly shocked because she isn’t the type of person to throw compliments around freely. And I also never thought she’d admit she was wrong. Before I can answer, the puck comes back down our way, and Summer passes it to Margo, who takes off toward the goal.
I can’t really make out what she says to Cash, but whatever it is, it changes his body language, and seconds later, the puck is sent in the back of the net, and the girls rush toward Margo just as the buzzer goes off.
We lost to a team of women, but when I see Isla skating toward us, I’m more than okay with losing this one time.
Margo seems to have this weird way of making Cash forget how to think. He’s the golden boy, and she’s … well, certainly not the golden girl.
I skate toward Isla, closing the gap between us and throwing my arms around her. “Hold me while I cry, Nineteen,” I joke, and her smile only grows bigger.
“You played a good game, babe,” she answers sweetly before the devilish side of her flashes me a smirk. “Just not good enough.”
My mouth hangs open, and I release my hold on her and grab my chest. “Ouch, baby. You’re mean today.”
Giggling, she slides her hands against my waist. “Sorry, hotshot.”
“You know what you could do to make me feel better?” I utter, pretending to pout. “Give me a nice blowie after this.”
Isla rolls her eyes and shakes her head at me.
Coach Huff claps his hands together to get our attention, and everyone turns to face him and the other coaches.
“Well, that didn’t go quite like I’d planned,” he says, dropping his head down dramatically before he picks it back up and grins at all the players.
“Jokes aside, we couldn’t be prouder of both of our hockey teams this year—truly.
And because my boys aren’t sore losers, there will be pizza at The Tower in an hour.
And the boys can’t touch a single piece until everyone on the women’s team has eaten. ”
The arena erupts into cheers, and I keep my arm around my girl for as long as I can until it’s time to part ways.
“See you on the other side, Nineteen,” I coo with a cheesy wink. “Think of me while you’re showering.”
“Didn’t need to hear that,” Margo grumbles behind us, and Isla’s cheeks turn the adorable shade of pink that I love so fucking much.
You’re an idiot, she mouths before taking off toward the women’s locker room.
What a day. What a practice.
And my girlfriend proved once again—to not just her own team, but the men’s team too—that she is a fucking weapon. And that right there makes me so unbelievably proud to call her mine.