31. Storm #2
The night I saw how much he loves hockey, how much he belongs in that world.
And how . . . this thing with us might actually work.
With everything and everyone surrounding him—and there was plenty of it.
His focus and energy was on me. I even caught the wink he gave Max a few times from where he stood.
I trust him.
I love him.
And more than anything, I want him to have what he loves. I just hope that tonight’s proof that we can fit into it.
I pour myself a glass of water while Silas settles Max onto the couch, whispering low about how much he loved having him there tonight.
“I can’t wait to see you play again,” Max beams, still wildly awake. “When is that?”
Silas drags fingers through his hair. “Not sure. But it’s looking good.”
“Can I still come even if you’re not Mom’s boyfriend anymore?”
The room stills.
When I find my breath again, I flip around. The movement too fast with water spilling around me. “What?”
Silas’s eyes lock on mine. He seems calm but doesn’t take this one. He waits for me.
“What do you mean?” I ask more gently, though probably failing at hiding the shakiness in my voice.
Max shrugs, like it’s obvious. “That you’re Silas’s girlfriend now. But that it probably won’t last.” He looks at Silas. “I still want to go to games when you play. Can I?”
My heart tumbles in my chest and I swallow. Silas sits beside Max on the couch, eyes on his lap like this is a territory he doesn’t know how to address.
I should say something. Now would be a good time to say something.
“Max you’re always welcome at my games,” he says quietly. “You’re one of my favorite kids, and that’ll never change. But . . . where did you get this from?”
Max’s expression saddens momentarily. “It’s cool.” He reaches for my phone on the coffee table. “Jeremy, one of the kids I met in the lounge today, had a phone and showed me on Instagram. There were a lot of posts saying you’re his new girlfriend.”
My heart is in my throat when he flips the phone around to me.
My stomach drops when I take the phone and see myself on nearly every feed as I scroll down. A few splits of me in his jersey looking in his direction and him mine.
Holy shit, we were clear as day, weren’t we?
“Everyone knew because she was wearing your jersey and sitting in your seats. And you were watching her a lot.”
Silas exhales, setting his own phone down after scanning it. “Max, you shouldn’t believe everything you see or read on social media.”
“So Mom’s not your girlfriend?”
Silas gives me one look and I read him loud and clear on it. He doesn’t intend on lying to my kid. I give him a nod and his lip quirks with relief. “No, she very much is. But why do you think it probably won’t last?”
Max frowns. Looking at Silas’s phone like he’s remembering something. “What’s a hiatus fling?”
Silas’s jaw ticks and he licks his lips. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.” His hand gentle on Max’s back. “But what is true, is that your mom was my first best friend. And that makes her very special to me.” Silas grins.
Max looks at me like I’m suddenly cool. “Really? Who was your second? Was it Chase?”
My stomach sinks.
Silas’s brows twitch as his eyes flick to the side, then he shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that my first was your mom. When I really needed someone like her.” He looks up at me. “And no matter what happens, she’ll be my last.”
This makes my kid smile, my stomach knot, and everything fall loosely into place.
“So,” Silas perks, poking Max lightly. “That pretty much makes you my buddy for life. And if you think I’m letting any of my friends miss my first game back on the ice, you’ve got another thing coming.”
Max frowns. “Like what?”
“Duh, season tickets. Front row seats. All the ice cream your mom will let us eat.”
Max chuckles. “But I can keep the jacket, right?”
“That’s yours, buddy. Just don’t go replacing it with whatever Chase got you at the gift shop today. I’ve been wearin’ this one since my rookie year.”
My grin slips. And he’s giving it to my kid?
Max stands and hugs Silas, who seems taken aback by the embrace. Still, he doesn’t miss a beat, his big arms wrap around this boy in a soul-crushing way. “Thank you.” Then he twists and gives me one too. “Thanks, Mom.”
I swallow like I might be on the verge of tears. “Let’s get you changed and into bed,” I mutter low, my voice failing me.
I get Max ready for bed in a blur and sit at his bedside minutes after he’s fallen asleep. I’ve always known that once I found someone serious, Max would have questions. But I never expected the internet to be the one answering them. With speculations, assumptions and photographic “proof.”
Closing his door gently, I step out to the living room. Silas is still on the edge of the sofa where we left him. A phone in one hand. The other rubbing his bottom lip as he scrolls through what I’m assuming are more posts from tonight.
The night that was supposed to be about him.
“I’m sorry,” I say with a sharp breath.
He looks up confused. “What?”
I look at his phone. “Tonight . . . was supposed to be about you . . . and I—”
He stands and is in front of me in a flash. “Storm.” He says my name with an edge. “Don’t you dare apologize for this.”
I bite my bottom lip.
He strokes my cheek and breathes an apology of his own. “I knew the risks—somewhere in the back of my mind, I guess. And I should have warned you.” He grins devilishly, throwing me off. “But if doing that would’ve changed anything about tonight, I’m glad I didn’t.”
I smile, coyly.
He rubs my arms and kisses me softly. “I haven’t seen Max in any of the posts. He wasn’t sitting with you, so they assumed he was with Levi and Tess.”
I nod. “It was the first thing I realized too.”
His face twists. “I don’t know how long we can protect him from it though.”
My stomach flips, because it’s almost a promise that he’s got plans to keep us around.
“I know. But this is who you are. It’s what you love. I never truly understood it until tonight.” I shrug. “And Max and I are a part of it.”
Relief washes over him as he releases a breath. “I was afraid this was a deal-breaker for you.”
“Really?”
“I was gearing up for the fight of my life over here if you tried to walk away now.”
“The fight of your life?” I tease with a wide smile.
He holds my hands in his. “I guess I thought you’d be . . . protective of him, worry about the exposure . . . decide this . . . isn’t what you signed up for.”
“You’re not wrong there,” I whisper, slipping my hands out of his and walking to the kitchen, grabbing a beer I’ve wanted all night.
“I’ve spent nine years protecting that kid from all kinds of things that come along with being a single mom.
” I glance at his bedroom. “Especially with a boy. But I’ve always worried that because I did, he won’t grow up knowing right from wrong, good friends from bad, to trust, to love, to live.
” Overcome heartbreak. “I’ve always thought he was a little bit awkward and quiet.
Only in these past few weeks with you have I seen him come out of his shell.
Laugh, joke, have fun.” I shrug and offer him a beer.
He takes it and twists the cap, handing it back, then reaches for the other. “For what it’s worth, Jeremy’s thirteen. His dad is Patrick Rhodes—if anyone has seen firsthand how many women pass through reserved seats, it’s that kid.”
I frown. “How sad. Rhodes should be more careful.” I take a swig and Silas lifts me onto the counter, stepping between my legs.
I giggle and set the bottle down. “You want to spend the night, don’t you?”
“Always, but that’s not what I was going to ask. About tonight . . . did I do all right? We didn’t exactly have a chance to discuss how to tell Max about us.”
“You were perfect. I mean, I’m assuming. This is kinda my first rodeo too. Well—not really, been to plenty of those, but you know what I mean.”
He laughs, taking a sip of my beer, then handing it back, his eyes glimmering. “I meant what I said. You’ll always be my best friend—no matter what.”
I roll my eyes. “How many of your best friends do you sneak into Coach’s office?”
He winks “Just the one.” Then backs away toward the fridge.
“Then again, I also don’t share a bottle of beer with my best friends.
Oh, except for my first bottle—shared it with Jasper when we were sixteen.
” He dips to lift one out of the fridge and twists the cap.
“Man, it’s been years since I’ve spoken to that guy—you remember him? ”
I still, my gut twisting low. Setting the bottle down, I slip off the table like I’m going to be sick.
“Storm?”
“Hmm?”
“Jasper—my . . .” he air-quotes the words, “. . . second best friend.”
I nod absently. “Right. Yeah. The one who threw you that party.”
Silas shakes his head. “Think it’s one of the top reasons we don’t speak anymore. That and . . . I don’t know. Kind of always thought the guy was a jerk.”
Yep, I’m going to throw up.
“Storm.”
“What?”
He grins but his brows push together. “You feelin’ all right?”
“Spend the night,” I say before I ruin tonight by asking him to leave because I’m suddenly not woman enough to deal with my poor choices.
“Wh—are you sure?” He lowers his voice. “I mean, shouldn’t we be taking baby steps with Max?”
Please don’t say baby.
I shake my head. “It’ll be fine. We’ll be careful. Please.”
He crosses to me, hearing the urgency in my voice, cupping my cheeks. “There’s nothing I want more.”
I relax under his touch. Even if I know the day is coming. I can push it off a little bit longer.