Chapter 19
LOCKE
“Let’s do this, boys!” Lawson shouts down the bench, his mouthguard dangling from his lips as he chews on it. “Pick it the fuck up!”
He’s right. We do need to pick it up. We let Jersey tie the game with just five minutes to go, and it’s not the first time we’ve done it this road trip.
We’re exhausted; that much is obvious. Being away from home for so long always does that, though.
Being on the road and not sleeping in your bed starts to get to you after a while, and it’s even worse if you have someone waiting for you to get home.
While I don’t technically have someone waiting for me, I have Nessa, and I miss her as if she were mine.
She certainly feels that way, and I’m eager as fuck to get back to her.
Our late-night FaceTime calls have been great, but they aren’t enough.
I need to see her, and not just through a screen. I need to touch her. Worship her.
We just need to hang on to these last few minutes and send this game to overtime.
We can beat them three-on-three, I know it.
Hayes drives to the front of the net in an attempt to stuff the puck past the goalie’s pad, and we all rise on the bench, watching and praying the puck will cross the line, but it doesn’t.
We sit back down as the linesman loses sight of it and blows the whistle.
We get set for another face-off, this time sending Lawson, who is damn good on the draw, out there in hopes we can win it back and get a quick shot on net and surprise the goalie.
It doesn’t work. He catches it with ease.
We try again—still nothing. Our time is up before we know it, the buzzer going off and signaling that we are indeed headed to overtime.
“Fuck!” Hutch slams his stick on the boards next to me. “Fuck!”
I get it. He wants to get home to his baby and his girl. I want to get home to his sister.
“We got this,” I tell him, trying to calm him down a bit. “They might have more practice with OT this season than us, but we can outskate any of their guys.”
He nods, still scowling out at the ice. “Yeah, yeah. I’m just…”
I pat his back. “I know, man.”
The puck is dropped at center ice, and unsurprisingly, Lawson wins it back.
He scrambles off the ice for a breather, and Peterson, another young guy, takes his spot.
He passes the puck to Frederic, who passes it over to Hayes.
They’re getting set up, drawing the Jersey players to them and distracting them.
It works. Lightning quick, Hayes zooms the puck back to Peterson, who takes off quickly toward the goalie, going one-on-one.
Like he took a play right out of my book, he goes top shelf, and the bench explodes when it hits the net.
“Yes, yes, yes! Fucking yes!” Hutch hollers, jumping with joy.
We all meet Dash, our second goalie, at the end of the bench, tapping his helmet as we head down the tunnel to the visitors’ locker room. We dress in record time and hit the bus, all of us eager as hell to hop on the plane and get back to Seattle.
My phone buzzes as I settle into my seat. I pull it free and smile.
“What a game!” my dad says as a greeting. “What a damn game, son!”
I laugh. “Thanks, Pop. Though I do have to wonder what you’re doing up still. It’s way past your bedtime, old man.”
“Hey, watch it. You ain’t no spring chicken yourself, you know.”
Fuck, don’t I know it. Part of the reason the game was tied was because I let Jersey’s leading goal-scorer slip past me like I was standing still. It was embarrassing as hell, and I’m not surprised I sat on the bench the rest of the game.
“Bet you’re glad to be heading back home after this trip.”
“More than you know.”
“How’s everything going with Nessa?”
My parents are fully aware of just how much I’ve fucked this situation up even more because I couldn’t keep my hands off her. While my mother is worried about me and my father thinks I should focus on hockey, neither of them has lectured me about it.
Truthfully, I think they’re a little glad about it. I’m the only one of my siblings who hasn’t settled down. While it’s not an ideal time, I think they’re just glad I’m not alone, and I am too.
I knew I was lonely—it’s why I slept with Nessa that night in New York—but I didn’t realize just how lonely I was until I had her in my life every day. Now, I can’t imagine not having someone. I can’t imagine not having her .
“Good,” I answer, looking around the bus for where Hutch is sitting. It’s not like I’m going to say anything incriminating with so many ears around, but it’s almost a reflex at this point. “Everything is good. I, uh, I’m looking forward to going home.”
I can almost hear my dad smile. “I’m glad, son. You’re… You’re doing good this season.”
So don’t let anything screw that up , is what he tacks on to the end without actually saying it.
“I know,” I say. “I’m aware.”
I’m being careful with her, Pop , is what I really say back.
“All right. Well, I’ll let you get. I just wanted to tell you I’m proud. Your mother is with your eldest nephew in the kitchen, feeding him way too much ice cream this late at night, so I’d better go check on them.”
“Mom’s such a troublemaker.”
He laughs heartily. “She is, but that’s why I love her. Love you, son.”
“Love you too, Pop.”
We hang up, and I sigh, dropping my head back against the seat and thinking about Nessa and how serious this thing is starting to get with my parents asking after her every time we talk.
Because it is getting serious. It’s not what either of us intended, I’m sure, but it doesn’t mean it’s not happening.
We should probably address that, but I feel like we might be too deeply invested in this to change it now.
Hell, I’m still pushing off her bed delivery just to keep her in mine longer.
The company gave me a warning the last time that if I postpone delivery again, they’ll cancel the order with no refund.
Don’t they know that’s exactly what I want? To keep her in my bed? In my penthouse? To…well, to just keep her? That thought is scary as hell, but it’s an honest one.
I keep hold of it as we finally climb onto the plane and settle into the comfy seats for the long flight to Seattle.
That’s the worst part about being on the coast, having to play games on the opposite ones and deal with the long-ass trips back home.
But if it means I’m getting closer to Nessa, I’ll endure anything.
I pull my phone out and grin at the text waiting for me. It’s from her, just a simple smiley face, but I know what it means—she’s waiting up for me.
“Hey.”
I flip my phone over just as Hutch settles into the seat next to me.
“Uh, hey,” I say back, looking around. Maybe the other spots are taken? But nope. There are plenty of empty ones. “What’s up?”
“Just felt like hanging out with someone mature for a change.” He settles back into the seat, stretching out his long legs. “Plus, Lawson is watching Rory sleep, and it’s kind of creepy. She’s almost my sister-in-law.”
“How are you feeling about the upcoming wedding? Just under three months now.” I’m sure it has to bring up some feelings for him since the last time he tried to get married, the bride never showed.
“Me?” He grins. “Oh, I’m fucking great. I cannot wait to marry Auden.
” He laughs quietly. “It’s so funny. I never thought I’d be in this position again.
I thought I swore off relationships forever after everything that went down all those years ago, but I’m so glad I didn’t.
She’s the greatest thing to ever happen to me.
And it’s the little things, too. Like the way she smiles at me in the morning, or how she always wears those ridiculous sweaters that make no sense because they make her sister happy. You know what I mean?”
Oh, I know what he means all right. It’s the same way with Nessa.
The small things that shouldn’t matter somehow do.
Like how she always tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s nervous.
Or how she feeds Pearl and Rufus and Sir Fishsticks the Fourth with such concentration, her lip between her teeth, always making sure they each get their fair share.
Or how she always grabs a pack of cinnamon gum when she grocery shops because she knows it’s my favorite.
It’s all the little things that make me feel things for her I really should not be feeling.
“What’s the look for?” Hutch asks, brows pulled tight together as he watches me closely.
“Huh? What look?” I try to play it off, though I have no doubt I definitely did just have a look. I’ve caught myself with too many goofy expressions since Nessa came along.
He studies me for what feels like far too fucking long. Shit. He knows. He fucking knows, and I’m trapped on this plane with him, and he’s going to murder me. Fuck, fuck, fuck. But instead of pulling out a knife and ramming it into my gut, he shakes his head with an easy smile.
“Nah, nothing. I’m just tired, that’s all.” He scrubs his hand over his face. “Did I mention I can’t wait to get home?”
He closes his eyes, and I release the breath I was holding. He falls asleep shortly after, leaving me with my thoughts.
I need to tell him. The longer we let this go on, the worse it’s going to be whenever Hutch does find out.
And he will. I know he will. Secrets always have a way of coming out.
Hell, look what happened with Nessa and her shitty ex.
He thought he was hiding that so well, and one slip-up later, it was all over.
I don’t want that—to be over. I want… Fuck, I think I want more . I want real. I don’t just want rolling in my sheets without anyone else knowing how damn happy she makes me. I want to tell the world, and that starts with me telling her brother.
Not now, though. But soon. Very soon.