46. Ethan
ETHAN
“I love this place. It’s phenomenal. I couldn’t dream of a more perfect studio. It’s better than Paulo’s. Well, it could be. It’s more of a blank canvas...”
In nothing but a towel, I sit on the bed, damp skin burning hot against the cool air of my bedroom, and listen to Aurora rattle on about the loft. The weight I've carried over the past few days feels lighter, the irritable snake in my gut less venomous.
This week, we’re on the road, heading toward the East Coast. We have a game in Ohio, another in Montreal, and then two in New York.
All I think about is getting to New York.
“Please don’t say that too loud. I don’t need Jax buying more property.”
I might own that loft, at least on paper, but I don’t mention it. My family will spoil her either way. They’ve waited my entire life for this opportunity.
“He won’t. He hates New York. But your nephews are so sweet.”
She draws out the last word, and I can envision her pouty lips as does. Her excitement makes me chuckle, and I lie back and stare at the ceiling like a goddamn lovesick teenager.
“They said they’ll move my clothes tomorrow,” she continues. “And they have a warehouse. They’re going to search for some big mirrors. They are so cute, too. They have your dimples.”
“Wait. Who?” I have no clue who she’s talking about, but they better be family. “I don’t have any siblings, baby girl.”
My father didn’t have any children with his wife before he went to prison, which I learned from Google. She divorced him and remarried shortly after his incarceration.
Thank fuck my mother didn’t have any other children. One was too much for her.
“The twins. Desi and Dante. They’re a little older than me.”
“So you automatically assume they’re my nephews because they’re your age?” I ask with mock indignation.
“Jackson said they’re your family,” she says, all innocent, a smile in her voice.
“I’m teasing. They might be cousins. I didn’t interact with that side of the family outside the diner. The eyes would’ve given me away, you know?”
My mother’s side lived in East Harlem. I wasn’t close with them either, choosing to spend my time at school or the park.
I learned to skate in a Harlem hockey program.
Our apartment was between Central Park and Morningside Park on the Upper West Side, where I could play hockey, baseball, or basketball.
Sports kept me out of trouble, and I figured sports would be my ticket out of the city.
“That’s sad. I hope our baby has your eyes.”
She brings me back to the present, her words an ax to the sternum, cracking it wide to steal my heart.
My chest swells with so much love, it hurts.
That, or I’m having a heart attack.
“Jesus, I miss you. How are you feeling? Are you eating? What’d you feed my son today?”
“Your cousins ordered pizza.”
“And you actually ate?” I highly doubt it. Her devotion to healthy food may rival her devotion to Jax, and she doesn’t eat meat unless I feed it to her...
That’d be a great joke if Jackson wasn’t part of the equation.
“I ate a margherita pizza with mozzarella, sun-dried tomatoes, and basil.”
A grin spreads across my lips, although she can’t see it. “Of course you did.”
Clothing rustles as she shifts around. “When will you be here?”
“Why? You miss me?”
“Yeah...”
Her apprehensive tone has me sitting up. “What else, love?”
“I heard Jax and Ricky talking. You want me to stay in New York, don’t you?”
“I want you to be safe.”
“Is this about us ? Is this about the whole marriage and commitment thing?”
She pauses, and I remain silent. I feel an anxious ramble coming on.
“I know you don’t want to get married, and that’s fine…”
Certainly doesn’t sound fine.
“…you told both Jax and me that, but...are we still broken up?”
I stare down at my phone. “Say what?” Is this what it’s like dating a twenty-two-year-old? “I thought we talked about this?”
She scoffs with theatrics. “We didn’t talk. That was pillow talk, if anything.”
I rub my eyes and take a deep, calming breath. “Let me get this straight. In your mind, we were not okay when you left LA? Because in my head, we talked, we fucked, and everything was peaches and cream or cum and cupcakes, whatever it is you kids say nowadays.”
“Cum and cupcakes?” She giggles. “No one says cum and cupcakes.”
“You just did twice, and you laughed. Now answer my question.”
“But now I want cupcakes.” She pouts.
“I’ll bring you cupcakes.”
“And cum?”
“Straight from the source.” She’s been gone for only a few days, and my balls already ache. My dick wants nothing to do with my hand. “Now, answer me.”
“I think we need time together, but that won’t happen with your job and living on separate coasts.”
Twenty-two, I remind myself, resisting the urge to throw my phone across the room. “Did I not say that before?”
“But now you want me to live here.”
“Only until I figure out shit with Kyle.”
I’m trying to protect Jax as well. If I can keep him away from his asshole father, it might prevent him from doing something stupid. He may not enjoy the winter weather, but he came back from New York happier than I’d ever seen him. Isolation with Aurora will do him good.
“How long is that going to take?”
I don’t know, but I’m not telling her that. In her anxious brain, that could mean forever.
“Do I need to stalk you and break into your apartment for you to understand I’m crazy about you? We’re not broken up. I meant everything I said. Now, if this isn’t working when my contract ends, I’ll figure something else out. Better?”
“No. You love your job.”
“I also love you.” It comes out of my mouth with no hesitation. “I have eighty-two games a season, and half are away. I have a stretch where I’m on the road for twelve days. Believe me, I’ve thought about how difficult this will be.”
“You know I can’t stay home, right? Not unless you want your life to be absolute hell for those twelve days.”
“Oh, I’m banking on it.” I’m banking on Jax forcing her to travel, and she’ll do it because he needs her, and I need him.
I also need her. I’m just not at Jackson’s level of dysfunction. Yet .
“What about when I can’t travel because I’m too pregnant? The last I checked, you’re away the entire week of my due date.”
“That’ll suck. Jax will go batshit crazy. We can ask the doctor about scheduling the delivery if you’d like. A couple of my players have done it.”
“This is a lot of work, Blackwood. I can’t believe you decided to use an expired condom, and now we have to schedule a baby in between hockey games.”
Laughter erupts from deep within my chest. “Worth it. Best mistake of my life.”
“Seriously, though, when will you be here?” There’s that pout again.
“This weekend, love.”
“And I’ll have you all weekend?”
Jesus fucking Christ, my cheeks hurt from smiling. “I’m yours all weekend.”