Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
IVY
I’m going to throw up.
“You know, sending reports all of the time to your team of doctors and the coaches is one thing,” I say as I brush out my hair.
I’m in the primary bathroom in Xander’s gorgeous Denver penthouse.
We just arrived this morning on an early flight, and I barely had time to ogle this place before he hit me with the news that we’re going to meet with everyone.
Today.
Now.
“But having to sit down in a room with them? Jesus, that’s intimidating as fuck, Xander.”
He moves up behind me and takes the brush from my hand. “You’re seriously taking your anxiety out on your hair, baby, and I can’t have you do that. I love it too much. Let me brush it.”
He gently runs the bristles through the ends, and I stare at him. Xander always looks so composed. So confident.
So fucking hot.
“I know that you don’t have to be nervous. You know these people.”
He lifts an eyebrow and meets my gaze in the mirror.
“You’re kidding right? What if I don’t pass whatever crazy test they decide to throw at me today?
What if they’re not satisfied with my progress?
They can make my life a living hell if they decide to.
Or cut me loose from the team. Anything’s possible, Red. ”
“Uh, no. Absolutely not. Because you’ve been working your ass off, and in just the few weeks, less than a full month, since we’ve been working together, the progress has been incredible.
You no longer need the brace. Sure, you have moments when you need to ice, but that’s normal.
If they say even one shitty thing today, I’ll—”
“Whoa.” He grins and leans in to press his lips to the top of my head. He’s so tall—or I’m so short—that when he stands behind me like this, I only reach his collarbones.
And I kind of love it.
“I appreciate your fiery enthusiasm.” He uses his hand to brush my hair over my shoulder and then kisses his way down my neck. “It’s hot as fuck, wildcat.”
“Oh God. You can’t do that to me in front of those people.
” I push him back and spin so I can look up at him as anxiety settles in my stomach and feels like it’s on steroids.
“If they find out that we’re a we, they’ll think I’m a puck bunny, and that I’m not serious about my job, and . . . oh God. Oh God.”
“You’ve said that a few times.”
“We have to keep this a secret. We can’t tell anyone. We’ll just say that you brought me along because we’re friends. Yeah, friends. I mean, we grew up in the same town, so that’s plausible.”
My heartbeat hammers in my ears, and I can’t catch my breath, and then Xander’s hands are on my cheeks and he’s forcing me to look up at him. His green eyes are full of concern, and it makes my chin wobble.
“Okay, this is going to stop now. You’re not a motherfucking secret, do you hear me? Absolutely not. We’re both adults, and we’re not doing anything wrong.”
“Ethically—”
“Fuck that. No, Ivy. Am I going to make out with you in front of my coaches and doctors? Of course not. But I’m also not going to simply say that you’re my friend.
I fucking dare any one of them to call you a puck bunny or anything close to it, because they won’t have to release me from the team, I’ll fucking quit. ”
“Xander—”
“No. You’re mine. I don’t know how many times I have to say it. I’m the one with memory issues, not you. So I want you to keep your gorgeous chin up. Unless you’re ashamed of me.”
“What?” I stare at him in shock. “How in the hell could I ever be ashamed of you? You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
That seems to make him stutter for a second.
“I want you to remember who the fuck you are, Ivy. You’re an incredible therapist, damn good at your job, and you deserve the seat at that table today.
You’ve earned it. You have to remember that you’re with me.
You belong with me. I want to obliterate all of that self-hate shit from your beautiful head because it isn’t true. ”
He’s moved closer with each word, practically bending me back over the sink, and he’s so . . . amazing. How could I not be crazy about him?
“Thank you.”
“You don’t ever have to thank me for reminding you who you are.” He kisses me firmly, driving his point home. “Now, we’re going down there today, and we’ll get through the next few hours, and then we’re going to the game tonight.”
“We are? Are you sure you want to do that?”
“Fuck yeah, I want to do that. It’s the season opener, and I want to be there. We’ve got this.”
After kissing me once again, he turns me around and continues to brush my hair until any tangles from the flight are gone and I’m ready to go.
“Okay.” I square my shoulders and give him a nod. “Let’s do this.”
“Impressive,” Steve, the head physical therapist, says as I lead Xander through the exercises we’ve been doing and the things we’ve recently added. It’s not enough to give Xander a full workout, but it shows Steve what the hockey player is now capable of. “You can stop, X.”
Xander stands and rests his hands on his hips.
“The progression is steady,” I agree with a nod. “He’s nowhere near ready to play, but he’s doing very well.”
“Agreed,” Steve replies and turns to Xander. “I admit, I had a lot of reservations about you going to Montana and working with someone we don’t know. But I can see that I didn’t need to worry. I’m pleased.”
“We appreciate the reports you send to us regularly,” one of the coaches adds. “You’re thorough and communicative, which is the key to this working so well.”
I nod, feeling proud of myself, and notice that Xander smiles down at me.
“She’s busting my balls, but she doesn’t let me do too much. We’ve found a balance and a rhythm.”
We stay for only another half hour with the medical team, and then Xander has a meeting with the coaching staff.
“I’m going shopping,” I inform him. “At the merch store. Don’t worry about me.”
“I have FOMO,” he says with a laugh. “Go enjoy it.”
I nod and turn to walk away, relieved that my part is finished and that the team is happy with the work we’ve done and now I can breathe. But then I feel Xander’s hand on my wrist, and I turn back.
We’re alone in the hallway, since the medical staff has gone on to other things and the coaching team is in the office where the meeting is being held.
“You were fucking amazing in there,” he says, his voice low just in case anyone can hear us. “I’m so damn proud of you.”
“I’m proud of both of us because you’ve worked so hard,” I inform him and pat his shoulder. I want to kiss him, but for now, I’m more comfortable keeping things professional while we’re here.
And he knows because he just winks at me.
“I’ll come find you when I’m done. It shouldn’t take long.”
“No rush. I’ll be here.”
He doesn’t stop me when I turn to leave, and I walk down the long hallway and outside so I can make my way around the building to the huge merch shop.
If we’re going to a game tonight, I need a Hendrix jersey. The T-shirt I brought with me won’t do. I also want a ball cap and anything else I decide I can’t live without.
But just as I walk inside, my phone rings, and when I pull it out, I see it’s Chris.
“Hey,” I say into the phone. “Long time no talk.”
“Hi, little girl,” he replies. He always called me that. I can hear the affection in his deep, gravelly voice. “How are you?”
“I’m good. Really good, actually. A lot has happened, and some of it you’re going to freak out over.”
“Oh, you mean the part about the bar burning down and your mom signing herself out of rehab?”
I stop by a rack of hockey pucks and scowl, unable to see anything around me as the weight of his words sinks in.
She fucking checked herself out?
“What?”
“I heard. Of course, I only heard what your mother told me when she showed up on my doorstep yesterday, and I trust about one percent of anything that comes out of her lying mouth, so I want to hear it from you.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a loud sigh.
“You’re kidding.”
“Wish I was.”
“Is she still there?”
Chris scoffs. “No, sweetie. Absolutely not.”
“How did she get from Great Falls to freaking Boise?”
Chris moved back to his hometown after the divorce, and I hated that he went so far away, but I also understood why he couldn’t stay in Silver Springs.
Not just because it’s a small town, but because my mother would have relentlessly tried to hurt him, harass him, and generally make his life a living hell.
“She hitchhiked.”
I groan. “I’m sorry, Dad.” It feels good to still call him Dad. “I should have called you way sooner, but this just isn’t supposed to be your problem anymore.”
“You’re my problem, not her. So I want you to give it to me straight, and be brutally honest with me. Are. You. Okay?”
I miss him.
And so, I walk out of the store, find a bench, and tell him everything that’s happened since he left.
When I’m finished, I’m leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands, fighting tears.
“I don’t know where she’ll go,” Chris says, and I can hear the weariness in his voice. “I doubt she’ll go to Silver Springs. There’s nothing for her there.”
“There’s nothing for her anywhere,” I reply.
“I’m sorry about your house, Ives. That’s a bunch of bullshit. I’ll send you some money—”
“No, you won’t. I don’t need it. I’ve moved in with Xander, and I’ll fix up the house at some point.”
Chris is quiet for a second.
“So, it’s serious with the Hendrix kid?”
I can’t help but smile. Xander and I are well into our early thirties, but Chris still calls us kids. He considers anyone younger than his own age of sixty-five a kid.
“Yeah, it’s serious.”
“You feel safe? Cared for? Nothing I need to come take care of?”
I shake my head, a smile flirting with my lips. “No, I’m good. We’re good. He won’t hurt me.”
“If that changes, I’m a phone call away.”
“I know.” It’s a whisper because I don’t want my voice to crack. “I’m glad you called.”
“No more keeping this kind of stuff from me, little girl. We agreed on that when I left. You’re supposed to tell me when you need me. I can’t read your stubborn mind.”
I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, I know. Okay, I promise to call you the next time the bar burns down.”
“Always were a smart-ass. I love you, kiddo. Be good.”
“Always. Love you too. I’ll talk to you soon.”
We hang up, and I pull my hand down my face, and when I look up, Xander’s standing about ten yards away, leaning on a lamppost, his hands in his pockets and face relaxed.
When I stand, he walks over to me and pushes his fingers into my hair.
“That looked serious,” he says.
“It was Chris.” I swallow hard. “My mom showed up there, Xander. In Boise. She checked herself out of rehab.”
His eyes never leave mine. He doesn’t even look a little bit surprised.
“You knew she’d do that.”
“I had my suspicions. How are you?”
“Not surprised. Irritated. Resigned.” I shrug a shoulder and lean into his touch, soaking him up. “There’s nothing else anyone can do for her. She has to figure it out for herself, and I’m washing my hands of her. And now, I need to go in there and buy myself a jersey for the game tonight.”
A smile spreads over his face. “No way, wildcat. You’re wearing one of mine.”
I lift an eyebrow as excitement fills me. “Really? Like, one of your official ones?”
“My girl, my jersey.” He loops his arm around my shoulders and leads me to the store. “But we’ll find other things to buy.”
“Oh, definitely. I need a hat. And probably a couple more T-shirts.”
“You can have anything you want.”