Chapter 11
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Axel
I collapse onto the bed and its predictable softness. My heart still races. Coach might as well have ordered me to do sprints over the ice.
I have a kid. A son.
And poor Gaby is dead.
God. How could that happen?
Gaby was bright and cheerful and bossy. How could she, of all people, be dead?
No wonder Enzo has looked miserable. The man has been in mourning and solo parenting a grieving child.
Professional athletes might be massively fit, but even they can’t withstand a toddler and his needs.
I sit up. I let Enzo leave.
Shit.
I stumble off the bed, pull on my shoes, and grab my keycard. I scroll through my phone in the corridor, hunting for Enzo’s name. Did I save him under Judas or Wormtail?
When I hear crying, I take a chance and knock on the door.
A pretty blonde woman answers.
“Sorry, I—”
“Axel Knight!” she exclaims happily.
Shit.
“This is so amazing! Come in.” She turns. “Enzo! You have a visitor! Your teammate who won a hat trick with you last night!”
I hear rustling, then Enzo appears. His hair is wrecked, his eyes red-rimmed and unfocused.
I glance back at the woman.
My stomach churns. Is this someone Enzo is… dating? I didn’t think this was the sort of person Enzo would date, but what do I know? Enzo used to date Sofia in college. And if my teammates at the Blizzards taught me anything, it’s that people can surprise you.
She gazes at him in a starry-eyed manner.
Enzo glances between us and frowns. Is he jealous? I won’t take his girl.
“I, um, wanted to check on you,” I say. “See if you need help with Luca.”
“That’s so sweet!” The strange, bubbly woman claps her hands.
“That’s not necessary,” Enzo says. “Kayla is here.”
“And you’re…?”
Something sour crosses Kayla’s face. “I’m the nanny.”
“One of the rotating nannies,” Enzo clarifies, and a knot in my chest dislodges.
“So Luca is always with someone new,” I say.
“Yes.” Enzo manages to look guilty.
Huh.
Okay. That won’t work.
Enzo works all the time, and he’s putting Luca on a rotation of strangers. This nanny is more interested in watching Enzo than in watching Luca, and I hate it.
Kayla narrows her gaze. “You don’t get along with Enzo. I saw your interview. You said some un-teamlike things.”
“Oh.” I shift my legs, conscious of Enzo watching me.
“We’ve known each other a long time. Just a bit of teasing.”
She’s silent, scrutinizing me. I scratch the back of my neck.
Maybe I was too harsh on Enzo. Obviously.
I thought he was partying and distracted for no reason. I didn’t know his sister had died and that he was raising her kid on his own.
My kid.
“I want to talk with you,” I tell him.
His eyebrows lift.
“Outside.”
We leave the hotel room. The corridor is empty.
“You should have told me earlier,” I say.
“Well—”
I wave my hand airily. “I was difficult to reach. Where are you living in Boston?”
“The hotel the team booked in Cambridge.”
“All of you in a room?”
“Two rooms. I always have someone to help me.”
“My kid is introduced to new people each night when it’s dark and scary.”
“They’re highly qualified.”
“Like the superfan inside who spent the whole time talking to me and not attending to Luca?”
“Luca should be with his mother, but she’s…”
My heart twists. I don’t say the word dead. It echoes between us anyway even in the quiet corridor with its tasteful lighting and bold geometric carpet tile.
“When we return to Boston, you and Luca are moving in with me,” I say.
Enzo shakes his head. “He needs a nanny.”
“Then I’ll hire a nanny.” I inhale. “A real one. Like Mary Poppins. Someone who lives with us and is not rotating and actually pays attention.”
Enzo’s cheeks pinken. He shakes his head. “I-I can’t move in with you.”
“Dude, we already lived together. In a way smaller place.”
He grimaces. Concord University was nice, but they built those dorms decades ago. Our room had definitely been former servants’ quarters, back when rich students brought people from home to press their clothes and do their laundry.
“What else do you need?” I ask. “What does Luca need?” I lean closer to him. “Is he always quiet?”
Enzo’s shoulders slump. “He used to speak. He did. But he hasn’t said anything since Gaby died.”
“Jesus.”
“The doctors said it was shock, and that he would speak in a few days… But he hasn’t, Axel. He hasn’t spoken at all. And now he’s been wetting his pants too, even though he was potty trained—”
The elevator opens. Finn and Noah exit. They give us a strange look.
I move closer to Enzo.
“Has he seen a doctor here?”
“Not yet.”
“On it,” I say. “Doctor and a nanny. Easy-peasy.”
“But—”
I square my shoulders. “He’s my son.”
His face reddens. “I’m not leaving him with you.”
“That’s why you’re moving in too. You’re not living in a hotel with my child.”
“I’m giving him a good situation! And I will find a better situation for him.”
“So call it temporary.” I blink. “I mean, it will be temporary. Obviously. I just should get to know him.”
“If you’re certain.”
I’m not certain.
Of course I’m not certain.
I just found out I have a child.
But children were always something I assumed I would have at some point.
I thought that they would come after I retired, when I ended up with some mysterious woman.
I’ve had girlfriends off and on, but I traveled a lot, and none of them lasted.
I’m nerdier than the women who hang out in sports bars.
Besides, I always had Enzo whenever I wanted a serious conversation.
At least, I used to have him.
Enzo watches me, worried. The shadows under his eyes are brutal. And that’s after he slept on my lap for four hours today.
“Move in with me,” I repeat.
“But—”
“Until you find something permanent,” I say, though for some reason I don’t like adding that caveat. “You can’t live in a hotel. And I need to see him.”
“Really? You wanted nothing to do with him!”
“I didn’t know he existed!”
He opens his mouth. Then shuts it.
“But I’m glad he does,” I say. “Your sister wanted a child.”
“You really knew her.”
I shrug.
“She didn’t want it this way,” he says softly.
No doubt she’d wanted to settle down with someone. She’d probably wanted a husband or serious boyfriend.
“I guess—” he says finally.
“Excellent.” I know Enzo well enough to back away. I don’t want him to change his mind. It matters that he says yes.
I hurry down the corridor, back to my room.
I’m a father. A dad. A papa.
Oh my God.
My son will depend on me.
My heart races. I can’t believe I didn’t know.
I take out my phone. “Hi Mom. What do you remember about toddlers?”