Chapter 7
SEVEN
JJ
Fifteen Years Old
“I don’t want to go to boarding school.”
As my father weaves the car through the Back Bay of Boston, I glare at the dashboard. Why the hell is he so determined to make this my new home? I know nothing about this area.
“That’s why this is the perfect solution.
You can come home whenever you want, but this gives you the freedom to focus on school and hockey while your mother and I focus on her illness.
You know her; if it weren’t absolutely necessary, she wouldn’t have agreed, but you can’t miss this chance, and I—” His voice cracks.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I’ve looked up to my dad my entire life.
He’s a great businessman but an even better dad.
And I’ve seen him break down more times than I can count in the last few weeks.
He’s always been emotional when it comes to us.
He loves hard. Especially Mom. Their love story is an epic one.
The kind that makes it impossible to believe it could ever come to an end.
He missed out on the first decade of my older sister’s life and it’s always killed him, so I understand that he isn’t taking any of this lightly. My younger brother James left for boarding school last week. It’s in London, and Dad’s brother Garreth will be nearby if James needs him.
And since Chloe is in Paris working for our family’s magazine, it’s just me they have to worry about.
Me and my hockey schedule.
It’d be impossible to keep up with it while Mom is in treatment.
If I went to boarding school, I would have to skip this season. And after all the work I’ve done to get here, my mother would be devastated if I gave it up.
This is the right answer. They’re doing the best they can. I just wish I could be there for them and play hockey.
That I wasn’t a chore. That I could help.
“I know. I’m sorry,” I say, head hanging.
In my periphery, he swipes a stray tear and nods. “It’s going to be okay. Finn is thrilled to have another boy in the house, and Beckett will get you to practice and games. It’ll be easy since Addie has to be there too.”
I plaster on a smile, not wanting to worry him more. “Yeah, it’ll be cool hanging with Finn.”
“And Addie?” He side-eyes me, his brows raised.
Frowning, I sit back. Why is he looking at me like that?
Adeline is my friend. And a goalie like me.
On the ice, she’s my competition. And she’s damn good.
This season, there are three of us on the elite team.
She’s the only girl. Period. She’s got to be used to it by now.
All the other girls we played with as kids have either moved into girls’ hockey or they’ve quit.
At this level, it’s hard for them to keep up. Adeline has never had that problem.
I shrug. “Sure.”
Dad’s responding chuckle is dry, but it’s still good to see him smile. “Right.”
Not understanding what he’s insinuating, I turn toward the window and focus on the brick buildings we pass.
Soon we’re easing down an unfamiliar street, passing brownstone after brownstone.
Dad says that Brooks and Aiden Langfield live on the street too, so maybe it won’t be so bad.
Brooks is one of the best goalies to ever play, and now that he’s retired, he’s always down to train with Adeline—and me by extension.
I guess I’ll get even more of that now that I’m living with her. That certainly doesn’t suck.
My father pulls into the driveway of a brownstone about five doors from the corner, and Beckett comes into view, with a massive dog at his side.
“If I don’t get a chance to say it before leaving, I’m so incredibly proud of you, and I’m only a phone call away. If you need me, I’ll be here.” My father chokes on his words, his blue eyes glassy with tears. “And I’ll come to as many games as I can.”
Lips quivering, I suck in hard. I don’t want to break down and give him something else to worry about. “I know, Dad.”
He leans across the center console and pulls me in for a long hug. “I love you so much, Jonathan. You and your siblings are everything we ever wanted. I hope I’m not fucking you up too much.”
I shake my head against my dad’s shoulder, a strangled sob breaking free. “Never. Love you too.”
As we pull apart, my father laughs. “Fuck, shit, I forgot to tell you—they don’t curse here.”
Frowning, I survey the large house. “What?”
“Beckett—” Dad shakes his head. “They use duck instead of cuss words. Just—” He rolls his eyes. “It’s an expensive lesson, so try hard to use duck.”
“I’ll fucking watch my language before I use the word duck.”
Dad chuckles, his laughter easing some of the tension in my chest. “Good idea.”
I give him what I suppose could be considered a smile, then we both stare out at the lawn where Beckett stands, head down like he’s talking to his dog, giving us space.
“You ready?”
I take a deep breath and will the tightness in my chest to abate. “Sure.”
“Okay, let’s do this.”
As our doors slam shut, Beckett lifts his head and moves in our direction. “Morning, guys. Let me help you with your luggage.”
He pulls my dad into a hug, but before I can get dragged into the greeting, I head to the back to grab a bag.
If I’m going to walk into the house and hold it together after my father leaves, I can’t take any more emotional moments.
For now, I’ll focus on getting through the next few months.
I’ll keep the sadness locked up from here on out.
It’s what my mother needs from me. My father too.
“All right, son,” Beckett says.
He uses that word, son, in a way a lot of adults do when talking to kids and not like I’m his actual son because I’m moving in with him. Still, I bristle at the term.
“We’re excited to have you here,” he says, not picking up on my reaction. “This is Deogi.”
“D-O-G? Did you just spell dog?”
I assess the massive dog. He’s got shaggy brown fur, and his tail is wagging rapidly.
With his mouth open and his tongue hanging out, I swear to god it looks like he’s smiling.
Then again, if this is the house an animal is lucky enough to be adopted into, of course he’d be smiling.
The Langfields own two professional sports teams in Boston, and on top of that, they’re generous as shit and fucking fun to be around. The dog is probably spoiled rotten.
I rub his head in greeting, and in response, he pushes his wet snout into my arm and licks me. Laughing, I pull back.
Beckett Langfield is about the same height as my dad, an inch or two over six foot. He’s got green eyes, dark brown hair speckled with gray here and there, and laugh lines that crease around his eyes when he smiles.
He does that a lot. Smiles, I mean.
My family isn’t unhappy by any sense of the word, but we don’t fucking smile like this. It’s like the guy is genuinely happy all the time.
Then again, why wouldn’t he be? He’s wealthy, with a big family and a beautiful wife. And his neighbors are all his brothers.
I guess that’s the dream.
Who the fuck knows. My only dream is to make it to the NHL. And for my mother to live long enough to see it.
Shit. Fuck. My stomach rolls, causing me to step back. Why did I have to go and think about that?
“No,” Beckett says, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. “That’s his name. D-O-G.”
My father chuckles. “Yeah, you spelled out the word dog.”
Sighing, Beckett shakes his head. “You’ve been spending too much time with Gavin.”
Gavin is his brother. And he’s the head coach of the Boston Bolts. My dream team.
“Come on.” He hefts a bag out of the trunk and heads for the house.
If I were to describe the Langfield home in one word, it would be loud. James and I can get rowdy sometimes, sure, but it’s nothing like the level of noise in this place the second I walk in.
Beckett’s oldest is already in college. Then there’s Finn, he’s seventeen and in love with baseball and the drums. That’s where the loudness comes from, by the way. Jesus fuck. Pretty sure his drum kit is in the basement, but the sound reverberates through the whole house.
Finn’s next sister Adeline is fifteen like me, then there are two more. Twins, Maggie and June, who are twelve.
While Finn is the loudest, Beckett and Deogi make a lot of noise too. And Liv, Beckett’s wife. She’s been yelling since I walked in. Not at anyone in particular but because she’s trying to be heard over the goddamn drums.
By the time bedtime rolls around, I have a headache and want nothing more than to crash.
Beckett had two twin beds moved into the room, which I apologized to Finn for after he mentioned that he used to have a king.
“You kidding? This is awesome,” was Finn’s response.
Like Beckett, he’s always smiling. He’s got wild curly hair that is being held back with a pink headband at the moment. He swears the headband brings him good luck, so from what I gather, he wears it often.
He falls asleep quickly, like his battery has finally run out of juice. I, on the other hand, lie on my back and stare at the ceiling, begging sleep to come.
Finn starts humming in his sleep, random words slipping through.
Is he singing a Janet Jackson song in his sleep? Fuck.
When he dives into the chorus, I roll onto my side. “Finn?”
“All for you.”
The kid’s eyes are closed, yet the lyrics keep coming. Holy fuck. He’s dead asleep.
I launch myself out of bed with a grunt. There’s no fucking way I can sleep right now. Rather than locking myself in the bathroom we share with Adeline and risking waking her up, I head downstairs.
The light is on in the kitchen. Dammit. I really don’t want to talk to anyone right now, but it feels weird to sneak around in order to avoid someone in their own home, so I blow out a breath and head that way.
That’s when I see her. Bent over, ass up, searching the refrigerator.
Her shorts barely cover her peach of an ass. The ass she’s spent years toning on the ice and through workouts by my side.
They’re pink shorts. Hm, I never pictured Adeline wearing pink.
“Hey.” I force the word out so that I don’t scare her, but she jumps just the same.
“Fuck.” Hissing, she straightens and whirls on me. “God dammit, JJ. You scared the shit out of me.”
I smirk, though the expression is hard to hold when I take in her tiny tank top. Shit. Holding my breath, I zero in on her face rather than the boobs I had no idea existed beneath Adeline’s gear or the damn headlights poking against the thin baby pink fabric.
“Thought there was a no-cursing rule in this house,” I say. “Aren’t you supposed to say Duck. Duck…” Ah, shit, I can’t say it with a straight face.
She growls. “If you say goose, I will mutilate you.”
Coughing out a laugh, I hold up a hand. “I seriously almost did.”
Her grumpy expression vanishes and she giggles. Fucking giggles. The light and airy sound makes an unfamiliar warmth inside my chest unfurl. “It’s okay. My dad means well, but—” She shakes her head. “Yeah, that’s all. He means well.”
“Your dad’s great.”
She nods, and for a moment the two of us stand on opposite sides of the room, staring at one another.
I’ve seen Adeline in workout clothes, but never anything revealing.
She’s always dressed in an oversized T-shirt and leggings.
Never shorts. Probably because guys like me would ogle the shit out of her like I am right now.
I run a hand over my face, my stomach sinking. This is Adeline. Stop acting fucking weird.
“Can’t sleep?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Did you know your brother sings in his sleep?”
Head tipped back, she groans. “Yeah.”
“How do you get any sleep?”
She points at a pair of headphones lying on the counter. “They cancel out noise. You should get some.”
Hand in my hair, tugging at the roots, I nod. “I’ll order them tomorrow.”
She gives me a soft smile. It’s strange, really. She’s always wearing a game face at practice. “You can bunk in my room for the night.”
Scowling, I shake my head wildly. “That—no—your father—no.”
“Oh my god, stop being weird. I’m like one of the guys.”
The air leaves my lungs in a whoosh. That might have been true twenty minutes ago, but now that I’ve seen her in this goddamn little outfit? She doesn’t even come close to being one of the guys. Fuck, her curves have my mouth watering. This is so fucking bad.
“Still,” I say, pulling my shoulders back. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Fine,” she sighs, “be tired tomorrow for our game. I’ll happily play goalie for all three periods.”
I groan. She’s right. We have to be out of the house by five a.m. “Can you set an alarm so I’m up and out of your bed before anyone catches us?”
A sly smirk creeps up her face. “Sounds so scandalous.”
“Adeline,” I warn.
Smiling, she pads by me and brushes her hip against mine. “Yes, JJ, I’ll set an alarm. C’mon.”
I stay where I am for a few seconds so I don’t have to stare at her ass as we walk up the stairs. By the time I step into her room, she’s already climbing into bed and pushing a pillow to the other side.
Hovering beside the king-size mattress, I ball my hands into fists. “You sure this is okay?”
“Yeah, just don’t try to snuggle me in the middle of the night and make things weird.”
“Ha.” I cough out a laugh as I settle on the empty side of the bed. “Like I would ever.”
With my head on the pillow, I inhale deeply.
It smells like vanilla and coconut and a scent that’s so very Adeline.
It’s rare that we spend time together when we’re not sweaty messes, but even when she is, she still emits this sweet natural scent.
She never smells bad, while the rest of us absolutely reek.
On our sides, we face one another. She’s wearing another of those smiles, and with the way her brown hair cascades around her, I can honestly say she’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“You okay?” she asks.
I swallow the lump suddenly lodging itself in my throat. She’s talking about my mom, about how my life has just been upended. “I guess.”
“Two truths and lie,” she whispers.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, heat gathering behind my eyes. “Um, your bed smells good, your brother’s singing could use some work, and I’m okay.”
The bed shifts, and then there’s an arm wrapping around my waist. Closer now, Adeline squeezes me, offering me her warmth and comfort. It’s weirdly natural to hug her back. To pull her so close that she’s forced to rest her head on my chest.
When she does, she whispers, “My brother’s singing could use more than a little work. But you will be okay, JJ, I’ll make sure of it.”
I’m not sure why, but I believe her.