Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
EVIE
I really didn’t see this coming. I knew Alec lived in North Carolina. That he would help me move, that if I ever wanted tickets to a hockey game, I could probably text him and he’d hook me up.
I did not expect to follow him through Harvest Hollow to his house, where I will be staying for the next few days, possibly even longer depending on how long it takes to dry out my rental.
Not that I’m surprised Alec offered. He’s always been a good guy.
It was, admittedly, a tiny gut punch to hear him refer to me as a sister, especially right after the hug to rival all hugs. Wrapping my arms around Alec’s waist, feeling him tug me even tighter against his chest…it basically lit my skin on fire.
Which is an enormous deal because I haven’t felt any kind of fire in months. I wasn’t even sure I was still capable.
But his words were the douse of cold water I needed, especially now that we’ll be living together.
We’ve only been driving a few minutes when Megan calls.
“Hey,” I say, once she’s connected through my car’s Bluetooth.
“Hey! I just got off the phone with Alec. Are you okay?”
“Thanks to him,” I say. I’m relieved to hear that Megan’s voice sounds mostly normal. I don’t know why it wouldn’t, but it does feel slightly weird to be talking to her when I’m minutes away from moving into her brother’s house. I’ve only ever known Alec through the context of him being Megan’s brother. And we’ve never been around each other without Megan there. If I were in Megan’s shoes, this would probably feel weird to me.
“Yeah, Alec told me what happened. I’m so sorry about your house.”
“It’s okay. I’m sure it’ll be fine eventually. Just a weird inconvenience.” In front of me, Alec slows and turns into a gated community, pulling up to a gatehouse where a security guard steps out to greet him. “Um, have you ever seen Alec’s neighborhood?”
“It’s so freaking nice,” Megan says.
“We just pulled up to the security gate. It feels very fancy.”
“Wait until you see the house,” she says. “He sent me a picture when he moved in. Totally ridiculous.”
Alec pulls his truck forward, and the security guard waves me through, smiling as I drive by. Enormous houses line both sides of the wide, paved road, all with expansive yards and perfectly manicured landscaping.
“I knew the Appies were successful,” I say, peering at the houses as I follow Alec deeper into the neighborhood. “I maybe didn’t realize they were this successful.”
“I definitely don’t think his bank account is hurting. How did Juno handle the drive?”
I glance at my rearview mirror and catch Juno’s reflection in the car seat mirror mounted in front of her. She’s sound asleep, her head leaning to the side. “She was a total champ. I’m lucky she’s such an easy baby.”
“If anyone deserves a little luck, it’s you,” Megan says. “And I’m so glad Alec is there for you. If you were in some random city alone, I’d be on an airplane right now coming to help, and that would not help me pass my pharmacology exam.”
I don’t know what Megan is worried about. I don’t think she’s ever gotten anything but an A on any exam, even in her hardest nursing classes.
“You know you’ll do great,” I say.
“Meh. Maybe. I hope so. So how has it been with Alec? Is it weird to be around him without me there?”
I think about Alec breezing into Ruth’s living room and calling me nerd . “I thought it might be, but it’s totally fine. He’s been really nice.”
“Good. I warned him he’d better be on his best behavior.”
Juno whines a little from the backseat, so when we stop at the next stop sign, I shift the car into park and turn around long enough to give her a pacifier. “What does that mean?” I ask Megan. “Why does he need to behave?”
“Come on,” she says. “You know you used to have a crush on him when we were kids.”
“Please tell me you didn’t tell him that.”
“Pretty sure he could tell,” Megan says. “But no, I didn’t mention it. I just told him he’d better not try to woo you now that you’re all grown up and a smoking hot bombshell.”
I scoff. “Woo? Who still says woo? Besides, I promise he won’t try. He literally just told me he sees me like a sister.”
“I mean, probably not exactly like a sister,” Megan says. “But that does give me some comfort.”
In front of me, Alec slows and pulls onto a wide concrete driveway. When he reaches the house, he opens the garage door and pulls his truck inside, leaving plenty of room for me.
I park and turn off the car, then climb out, phone pressed to my ear.
“It brings you comfort ? Is the idea of me and Alec together that horrible for you?”
It’s a stupid conversation. Megan knows better than anyone what I’ve been through in the past year. She’s the one who held my hand through the divorce. Who helped me through Juno’s delivery when my idiot ex-husband didn’t want to be there. I shouldn’t be insulted because she doesn’t think a purely hypothetical relationship with her brother is a good idea.
“Are you kidding?” Megan says. “There’s nothing I would love more than having you as an actual sister. At least, I would if I thought Alec was ever going to settle down. But he’s been married to his hockey team for years. And you just went through so much, Evie. I don’t want you to get hurt, and I definitely don’t want my brother to be the one who hurts you.”
“That’s fair,” I say, somewhat mollified. I open Juno’s door and put Megan on speaker, tucking the phone into the front pocket of my overalls, speaker end sticking out the top. I reach into the car and pull out Juno’s carrier, then set her down on the driveway. She’s awake now but still a little dazed and sleep drunk, blinking like she doesn’t know which end is up.
You and me both, baby girl.
Alec appears beside me and holds his hand out for Juno’s carrier. “Can I take her inside?”
“Yeah, thanks,” I say. “I’m just talking to Megan.”
“Hi, Alec!” Megan yells through the phone. “Have I told you you’re the best brother ever?”
Alec grins as his eyes drop to my phone. “Is there anything else I can carry?”
I retrieve the portable crib from the trunk, then hand it over, along with the diaper bag and a second bag full of extra diapers and wipes. Both shoulders are laden with bags by the time he makes his way inside, the crib in one hand and Juno’s carrier in the other.
I spend an extra long moment admiring the way his back and shoulders flex with the effort, then slam my trunk closed with a sigh. “I should get inside,” I say to Megan. “But trust me. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Stop it,” Megan says. “Don’t make it sound like that. I’m not worried about you and Alec . I’m just worried about you, in general. Your scars are still fresh, Evie.”
“It’s been almost a year,” I say. “Which, I’m not saying that because I want to date your brother. I’m just saying, maybe you don’t need to worry so much. I’m doing okay.”
Megan’s quiet for a beat before she asks, “You really think so?”
“I mean, my bank account balance is abysmal, I still can’t fit into my favorite jeans, and I’m hormonal enough to cry at every single dog rescue video that comes across my feed. But otherwise, yeah. I really think so.”
I circle the car and open the back door to get my duffle bag.
“In that case,” Megan says, “I think I should probably tell you something.”
“Okay,” I say through a grunt. This bag is really heavy.
“I have some news about Devon.”
I freeze, dropping the bag and letting it fall back onto the seat. “What about him?”
“I don’t know the details. Just that he’s no longer a part of The Great Gatsby cast.”
“What? Who told you that?”
“I ran into Gina on campus the other day. She says hey, by the way.”
“What did she say about Devon?”
“Not much, honestly,” Megan says. “But if I’m reading between the lines, I kinda got the sense he screwed up pretty big and was fired.”
I breathe out a sigh. It isn’t that surprising that I haven’t heard anything about Devon. I make a pretty conscious effort to stay out of the loop when it comes to my ex-husband. But losing a coveted Broadway role when he worked so hard to get one in the first place doesn’t really track with what I know about him.
“Did Gina want you to tell me?” I ask. “Is that why she brought it up?”
Gina was definitely more Devon’s friend than mine, though she was more sympathetic during the divorce drama than a lot of our other friends.
“I don’t know,” Megan says. “She didn’t really say one way or the other. I’m sorry for mentioning it. I just thought you might want to know.”
“Yeah, I’m glad you did. Thanks.”
“Call me tomorrow?” Megan says.
“Yep. Love you, Meg.”
I end the call and pocket my phone before hoisting the duffel onto my shoulder and knocking the car door closed with my hip.
Whatever Gina’s intention in telling Megan about Devon, he made it clear when we divorced that he wouldn’t worry about me. Which means I’m not going to worry about him either.
Alec meets me when I’m halfway up the sidewalk, lifting the bag from my shoulder and carrying it the rest of the way. I frown as I watch him walk. I could be wrong, but he looks like he’s favoring his right knee. I don’t remember noticing anything when we were unloading all my furniture which makes me suddenly worry he somehow injured himself. Especially after the way his teammates teased him.
I’m deep in a narrative in which Alec’s hockey career is over and it’s all my fault and he’ll never forgive me much less speak to me again when I realize Alec has said something and is waiting for me to respond.
I scour my brain for the words I know I heard but clearly didn’t process, but I come up empty. “Sorry, what was that?” I ask. “I spaced there for a second.”
Alec lifts an eyebrow. “I just asked about your conversation with Megan.”
“Oh! It was good. Great. She’s worried about her pharmacology exam.” It’s a true response, even if we only talked about pharmacology for the first two minutes, then spent the rest of our conversation talking about him.
He nods knowingly. “Sounds about right. I don’t know why she worries so much. She always does great.”
“That’s what I tell her!” I say, making a mental note to circle back to Alec’s leg. Even if it’s something minor, I’ll feel terrible if he hurt himself on my account. “Still, I’m glad you were around today because otherwise, Megan would have flown down here herself, and then I’d never hear the end of her stressing over the school she’d miss as a result.”
Alec pauses in his open front doorway and looks back, shooting me a warm grin. “You know my sister well.”
I think of the expression on Megan’s face as she gripped my hand through the last hour of Juno’s delivery. “I honestly don’t know how I would have gotten through the last few months without her.”
Alec holds my gaze for a long moment, his brown eyes flashing with something I can’t quite read. “Megan is great,” he says, “but I watched you today. Something tells me you’d be okay no matter what.”
We move into the entryway, where Juno is still sitting in her carrier, awake now, her little feet kicking as she happily sucks on her pacifier.
I huff out a laugh. “I’m sorry, were we at the same house today? Pretty sure if not for you and Ruth, I’d still be sitting on my front steps crying over the missing porch swing.”
He moves and closes the front door, stepping close enough that I feel the warmth of him as he reaches past me. “Your house is supposed to have a porch swing?”
I shrug. “It did in the pictures. But it feels dumb to worry about that now.”
He pushes his hands into his pockets and looks down at me. He’s standing close enough for me to see the specks of gold in his brown eyes. He smells good, manly and woodsy and a little musky. “It’s not dumb,” he says softly.
He holds my gaze for another second before giving his head a little shake and stepping away. He reaches for the duffel he discarded when we first stepped inside, then adds the crib and diaper bag to his shoulders. He clears his throat. “Let me show you where you’ll be staying.”
I grab Juno’s carrier, then let Alec lead me through the entryway, past some sort of a music room with a grand piano right in the center and a dining room with a table that looks big enough to seat Alec’s entire hockey team. There’s an enormous staircase in the center of the house, but Alec doesn’t stop until we reach a living room right off the kitchen. It’s warm and welcoming and actually looks lived in, at least compared to the rest of the house. It’s still nice, but it doesn’t feel fancy . I’m guessing this is where Alec spends most of his time.
The L-shaped couch looks soft and comfortable, covered in throw pillows in dusty shades of blue, and there’s a fluffy blanket draped over the back. The opposite wall has bookshelves on either end, flanking a massive TV, making the whole space perfect for a movie night. Give me a bowl of popcorn and that fluffy blanket, and I could be happy in this room forever.
“There are three bedrooms upstairs,” Alec says, motioning to a second stairway in the corner of the room. “All with the beds made up and ready, so you can have your pick and use as many as you want.”
“You keep all three guest rooms ready?” I set Juno’s carrier down on the floor, then crouch down to unstrap her and lift her out. She’s been an absolute dream today considering how much time she’s spent in the car. But I can tell her patience is about to run out. She needs a bath and a meal and a little bit of uninterrupted mama time.
Alec shrugs easily as he glances around the room. “I bought the house fully furnished, so they were like that when I moved in.”
I look around the room one more time. “That explains the grand piano.”
“How do you know I haven’t started playing?”
“Have you?”
He grins. “Well, no, but I might now that I have a piano.” He pushes his hands into his pockets. “The people who sold me the house moved to Europe and didn’t want to ship over all their furniture. Most of my stuff is still in boxes out in the garage, but I haven’t had a lot of time or reason to unpack everything.”
I get the convenience of moving into a house like this. But I have to wonder. If Megan is right about Alec not wanting to settle down, why did he buy a four-bedroom house in a quiet, family-friendly neighborhood?
Alec looks down at Juno, then reaches forward, his hand curling around her foot. It’s a gentle gesture, almost a thoughtless one, but it makes me happy to see him acknowledge her, despite his earlier claim that he knows nothing about babies.
Juno looks up at him, and he smiles. “She looks like you.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. She definitely has your eyes.” He lifts my bags a little higher on his shoulder. “Come on. I’ll carry these upstairs for you.”
Ten minutes later, he leaves me in the largest of the upstairs bedrooms, one with a sitting area off the main room that will be perfect for Juno’s portable crib, and an ensuite bathroom with a huge soaking tub and a gorgeous tile shower.
I spend the next hour with Juno, going through her nightly routine, crossing my fingers that despite being in a strange house, she’ll go down without too much trouble. She usually falls asleep around seven or eight; if I’m lucky, she won’t wake up again until midnight.
Once she’s settled in her crib, I take a shower and put on a pair of leggings and my Cornell hoodie. Megan’s parents bought it for me at one of Alec’s college games, and it’s been one of my favorites ever since. I almost pick something else—I don’t want Alec to think I picked it because of him— but it really is the softest and the warmest, so I leave it and push my worries from my mind. For all I know, Alec has gone to bed and won’t even see my hoodie.
I’m tempted to climb into bed and crash myself, but Ruth’s chicken pot pie is the only thing I’ve eaten today, and that was hours ago. I’ll head to the grocery store tomorrow, but for now, I hope Alec has a stocked pantry.
I’m halfway down the back stairwell when my nose picks up the smell of something cooking, and my stomach lets out a low rumble.
I find Alec in the kitchen in front of the stove, sliding a sandwich onto a plate. After everything he’s done for me already, it feels selfish to hope he’s making it for me, but my mouth is watering before I’ve even reached the counter. When Alec smiles and nudges the plate toward me, it’s all I can do not to whimper out loud.
“I’m not much of a cook,” he says. “But I thought you might be hungry.”
“Starving,” I say. “Whatever it is, it smells amazing.”
“Fried egg, cheddar, and bacon,” he says. “Breakfast food is pretty much all that’s in my wheelhouse.”
I pick up the sandwich and take an enormous bite, not even caring that Alec is watching me so intently. I close my eyes as a low groan sounds in the back of my throat. “Oh my gosh, that tastes amazing,” I say through a mouthful of food.
The yolk on the egg is runny, just the way I like it, and my second bite gets messy, egg dripping down the side of my hand.
Alec reaches for the paper towels, tearing one off before sliding it across the bar.
“Sorry,” I say in between bites. “Breastfeeding makes me ravenous.” I look at the paper towel, then look at my sandwich. If I put it down, I’m only going to get messy again when I pick it back up. “You know what? I’m committed. I’m just going to finish, then clean up after.”
Alec chuckles. “Okay, but maybe…” He moves around the counter and picks up the paper towel, then lifts it to my face. I sit stone still as he slides it across my cheek, wiping away a smear of egg I hadn’t even realized was there. “So it doesn’t get in your hair,” he says. He uses his free hand to slide the rest of my hair off my shoulder and away from my face. His fingers lightly brush across my neck before he moves his hand away, and goosebumps erupt across my skin.
My gaze reflexively lifts to his, like I might be able to tell from his expression whether he realizes that him standing so close makes me feel like my heart is beating on the outside of my chest.
Alec’s eyes are warm, but there’s nothing in his expression outside of genuine concern and kindness. Nothing to make me think he noticed my reaction or that touching me impacted him the same way it did me.
Which honestly, it’s a completely ridiculous thought. First, I talked about breastfeeding, then I smeared food all over my face, and now I’m wondering if Alec is feeling attraction? I don’t think I could be less sexy if I tried.
“Nice sweatshirt,” he finally says, and heat warms my cheeks.
“Thanks. Your parents bought it for me back when I was going to all your games with Megan.”
He nods. “I remember. You guys were an excellent cheering section.”
“We were, weren’t we? I still have a Cornell jersey with your name on the back.”
Something happens to Alec’s expression then, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit, his mouth falling open like he’s lost in thought, but then he gives his head a little shake and steps away, moving back around the counter. He keeps his eyes down while he fixes two glasses of water, giving one to me, then returns to the bar with a second sandwich for himself.
I have no idea what happened. If I made him uncomfortable by mentioning his jersey, or if it triggered an entirely different thought and his momentary weirdness didn’t have anything to do with me. Either way, he seems okay now, so I dig back into my sandwich.
We eat in easy silence until I finish and slide my plate forward, then use my napkin to wipe my face and hands. “That was amazing,” I say. “Thanks for feeding me. And for everything today, really. Unloading the pod. Giving us a place to stay. All of it.”
“It’s no problem,” he says in between bites. “I’ve got plenty of space.”
“Yeah, why do you have all this space? This house is huge.”
“It was more about the neighborhood and less about the house,” Alec says. “I like the security. And it’s quiet. Mostly families. My last place was in a busier part of town, people always coming and going, and my neighbor was always having crazy parties.” He pauses and offers me a sheepish grin. “I sound really old, don’t I?”
“ So old, ” I repeat, but then I smile. “I get it, though.” I slide off the barstool and carry my plate to the sink. “So talk to me about your knee.”
He frowns. “Why would I want to talk about my knee?”
“Because I saw you limping when we came inside. Are you injured? Please tell me you didn’t hurt yourself today.”
“I didn’t hurt it today,” he says, and I can tell he’s telling the truth.
“So it’s a hockey injury?”
He breathes out a sigh. “You’re asking a lot of questions.”
“Oh come on.” I return to the stool beside him. “You said I was like a sister, so talk to me like one.”
He lifts an eyebrow at this, but then he finally shifts on his stool and turns to fully face me. “It’s an old hockey injury,” he says. “Do you remember when I had surgery on my ACL during my senior year at Cornell?”
“Oh, that’s right! You didn’t play in any games until after Christmas.”
“Exactly. Then I blew it out again my first year with the Appies, and it hasn’t been the same since. I’ve had three surgeries total, and the past few years it’s been pretty solid. But here lately, it’s been acting up again.”
“What does ‘acting up’ mean?”
He shrugs. “It gets stiff, especially later in the day. And it swells up if I’m not icing it regularly.”
I look down at his knee, though it’s not like there’s anything to see through the dark joggers he’s wearing. “Does it impact your playing?”
“Not so far, but…” He hesitates and runs a hand through his hair. “But my trainers seem to think it’s only going to get worse if I keep playing on it.”
If he keeps playing.
Does that mean he’s thinking about not playing? He isn’t saying so much in words, but I can read a lot in his body language. In the tightness across his shoulders, in the way he’s avoiding eye contact. Hockey has defined Alec’s entire adult life. It isn’t hard to imagine how gutting it might feel to think about all of it ending.
I nudge his knee with mine. “Hey. You know you’re more than a hockey player, right?”
He looks up sharply, like my words have surprised him.
“You’re a brother, a son, a friend, a human. You’ll still be all those things when you stop playing hockey.”
He shakes his head and lets out a little disbelieving laugh. “I don’t think it’s going to come to that,” he says, but the tension in his body makes me think he’s worried it might be.
“What do your teammates say?” I ask.
He props his foot up on the bottom of my barstool, bringing his knee into direct contact with mine. I will myself not to move away even though the heat of him feels like a brand through the thin fabric of my leggings.
“My teammates don’t say anything because they don’t know.” He rolls his shoulders, and I get the sense he’s admitting things, saying things out loud that he hasn’t said before. “I’ve played through the pain before, and I’ve had surgery before. I’ll have another one if I have to. It’s the job, right?”
He’s making it sound so simple, like it’s no big deal. But what if it is a big deal? “Will you…would you ever stop? Decide it’s not worth it?”
He hesitates. “I mean, at some point, I’ll have to. My trainers like to talk about future mobility. Making sure I can go on hikes or play outside with my kids—assuming I ever have kids—just do regular life stuff. But it’s hard to prioritize that if it means I have to stop playing now.”
Beside me, the sound of Juno stirring comes through the baby monitor I brought downstairs with me, and I will her to settle back into sleep. A conversation like this feels like a lot for two people who only just reconnected, but it also feels incredibly easy. Like we could talk about anything and it wouldn’t give either of us pause. I have no idea why—why Alec decided I was the person he’d finally say all of this to, but I don’t want the conversation to end just because Juno wakes up.
I hold my breath, bottom lip grasped between my teeth until Juno quiets, her breathing falling back into a steady, reassuring rhythm.
“Have you given any thought to what you’ll do when you do stop playing? Whenever it does finally happen?”
Alec shakes his head, his jaw tensing the slightest bit. “There’s nothing else I could do.” He stands and moves into the kitchen, keeping his back to me for several long moments.
I stand and carry my plate around the counter and lower it into the sink. “There’s no denying you’re great at hockey,” I say slowly, “but you’re also smart and funny and personable and charming. There are probably a dozen different things you could do without even leaving the sport. Coaching or broadcasting. You’d be great on television.”
He lets out a dismissive grunt. “Nah. Analysts come from the NHL. Not the minor leagues.”
“Most of the time, sure,” I say. “But you’re an Appie. You guys freaking beat an NHL team last season. Half the players on the team could be playing in the NHL if they wanted to be—you included. The same rules don’t apply to the Appies.”
Alec’s eyebrows lift, and I’m suddenly embarrassed to have said so much. To have revealed just how closely I’ve followed his career.
But then he grins, and my regret fizzles and floats away. “So you weren’t just reading textbooks at all of my games,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “I already told you. That happened one time.”
“Once a nerd, always a nerd,” he says.
Juno’s monitor lights up again, and this time, it doesn’t sound like she’ll settle back down.
I retrieve my water glass from my seat at the counter, draining the last of it before putting it in the sink next to my plate. “She probably won’t go back to sleep without me,” I say, reaching for the monitor. “Thanks again for the sandwich.”
“Of course,” Alec says. “If you get hungry later, just make yourself at home. I don’t have much, but whatever you find in the fridge or the pantry, you’re welcome to it.”
I’m halfway across the living room when Alec stops me.
“Hey, Evie?”
I turn back to face him. It’s the first time he’s called me by name, and the sound sends a delicious shiver racing up my spine. “Yeah?”
Alec pushes his hands into the pockets of his joggers. “Thanks for listening. You’re pretty easy to talk to.”
I smile. “Anytime.”
He runs a hand through his hair and takes a step toward me. “Listen. I have no idea if it’s even practical with Juno, but I’m happy to get you a ticket to Sunday’s game if you want to come. Or any game, really. It doesn’t have to be this one. I’m just saying generally. If you want to go to an Appies game. All you have to do is ask.”
My heart squeezes at the kindness behind Alec’s words. I haven’t been to a hockey game in years. Not since high school. Once I started at Juilliard and met Devon, it wasn’t as easy to get away, even though Megan frequently traveled to see whatever games he played in the northeast.
But Devon was a theater major, and he didn’t understand my love for hockey at all. I tried to explain it was simply a part of my childhood, but I might as well have been speaking a different language.
So I let it go.
Devon had that effect on people. He drew people into his orbit and kept them close, and we all stayed there because it felt like such a privilege to have been chosen by someone so talented, so magnetic. We liked what he liked, listened to what he listened to, ate whatever he was in the mood for.
It was even easier for me because I was his favorite. The one he fell in love with and married on a warm summer day exactly one month after my twentieth birthday.
A part of me wants to go to Alec’s hockey game just to spite Devon. But a bigger part wants to go just because of how much I miss it.
But Juno makes everything more complicated. Navigating the crowds and the cold and the often rowdy fans at a hockey game can be challenging when you don’t have a baby along. Not to mention the noise.
“I’m just now comfortable taking Juno to Target,” I say. “I don’t think I’m ready for a hockey game yet. But thank you for offering.”
Alec nods. “Another time then.”
Later, when Juno has nursed and fallen asleep again, I lay in my bed for a long time thinking about the conversation with Alec. How easy and natural it was to talk to him. How good it felt to have him invite me to a hockey game, even if I couldn’t take him up on the offer.
I am still absolutely positive that a relationship is the last thing I need right now.
But I can’t seem to stop smiling anyway.