Chapter 20 #2
Still, this is going to be a shitshow when our dad gets here. Once he catches wind that his little girl isn’t dating Matthew Pearson anymore and she’s with a new guy, he won’t like that. I foresee the lecture requiring privacy. She might be leaving the party shortly after.
Meanwhile, I have bigger fish to fry. I can’t be her buffer like I usually am. My dad is probably going to give me shit tonight too, but at least, she can leave. This is my house, so I’ll be stuck taking more shit from Coach Wilder.
When Chase, Andrew, and Colton show up, we’re all sitting outside.
Crew and Sydney are chatting amongst themselves.
Baddie is talking to my sister inside the house.
My sister is clearly going through a hard time because the eyebrows are ridiculous and now her hair is no longer blonde.
She dyed her hair brunette at the very last minute today, skipping out on prepping for the party.
Apparently, Baddie helped her book the appointment.
All of this is out of character for her.
I’m questioning if I should be getting more involved with my sister when Colton hits my leg.
“So, what’s the update?” Colton asks, his expression equal parts curious and smug.
All the guys know that I spilled my guts to Addie and laid it all on the line only to get hit with the "let's take it slow" treatment.
I shrug, playing it cool even as my heart clenches in my chest remembering when I was deep inside her earlier today. “She brought me coffee this morning. Not much else to report, man. Slow, remember?”
“Right,” he says with a nudge. “Slow. Sure.”
I elbow him back, shooting him a warning glare. “Worry about yourself, bro. What's the word with your girl?”
That shuts him up quick. His smirk fading into something almost sheepish.
His reaction makes me laugh, so I nudge him, giving him shit. “Just give her the sneaky cheeky behind the creeky, if you know what I mean.”
Andrew busts out laughing, holding his hand up for a high-five. I smack it as he says, “The sneaky cheeky? Classic!”
Colton just stares at us, stone-faced and mute.
He clearly doesn't want to get into any details, which is fine by me.
I'm not in the mood for locker room talk, not when my own love life is stuck between friend zone and casual somehow. Or is this still considered friends-with-benefits? At this point, I don’t know.
Label me as confused. Or not because this is taking it slow.
Crew turns to me and asks, “What’s funny?”
I clap him on the back. “Nothing you need to worry about now, kid. You need to get out of college first.”
“Aw come on, bro.” Crew grins at the guys. “You mean I shouldn't be giving the hockey sticky to the chicky?”
We all groan a stiff laugh. Colton went so far as to chuck a beer cap at his head.
“Hockey sticky? Really?” I snort.
“How are the college chicks?” Colton asks Crew. Colton’s only one year fresh from college like me.
Crew shrugs, and Sydney chimes in, “He’s a quiet guy on campus.”
“Don’t reveal all my secrets now,” Crew teases, bumping her knee with his. My eyes narrow on the contact.
Chase jumps into the conversation, saying, “So, he’s like Wilder.”
“They call me the fourth Wilder brother,” Crew says proudly.
I nod because it’s true. He’s been my best friend since we were kids, he lives with Madison now, and when my youngest brother was a kid, he loved the shit out of Crew. All of us Wilder’s love the kid. Crew’s a good guy.
Colton says, “Maybe you just need some practice.”
“Colton, shut the hell up, man,” I snap in a joking tone. I lean back with a cackle. “Damn, dude.”
Colton shrugs. “You two are brothers, right?”
Sydney is far too smart of a girl, and I know this because Madison talks about her a lot. She’s staring between me and the guys, catching onto what’s being said. I glance over at the house when I notice movement.
Colton continues, “You could just find someone to be friends with benefits with and then get some practice for your future wife.”
My dad, he’s a tall guy, is walking into the hallway with Madison. There they go, just as I knew it would play out.
Andrew says, “Bro, you invited your dad?”
I smack Colton on the shoulder just as I stand up. “That’s enough.”
Crew knows the deal with me and Baddie, so I’m not worried about it. Colton’s just messing with me.
Colton and Chase’s eyes search the house. “You invited your dad?” they ask in unison.
I nod, heading over to the house. My dad and Mads are entering my bedroom. Shit, I hope there’s no evidence of me and Addie in there. I double-checked, but maybe I should have triple checked.
“Everything okay?” I ask Baddie, referring to my sister and dad.
She nods. “Madlibs has it under control, so don’t worry.”
I point over my shoulder. “And my dad?”
She shrugs. “He has a serious problem with me.”
I shake my head. She is convinced my dad hates her, and I understand. My dad can be harsh on anyone. “He doesn’t,” I assure her. His problem lies with me and not her.
Mads and my dad walk out of the bedroom shortly after. Greyson finally shows up. It’s awkward for the time being because the Honey Badger team is clearly having a feud over Madison and Grey. And my dad being here tightened up the Seven Devils.
When Madison says she’s leaving with Grey, my dad and I walk them out. When we’re giving out warnings to Grey, Grey doesn’t seem intimidated or annoyed. I have to give the kid credit. My dad’s intimidating and I’m the China Wall, yet his care is only on my sister.
As they pull out of the driveway, my dad heaves a sigh, his shoulders slumping. “I hope your sister knows what she's doing, son. Cress is a hell of a hockey player, but that doesn't make him worthy of her.”
I nod, shoving my own hands in my pockets.
My dad thinks the measure of a man's worth, at least in Coach Wilder's eyes, has always been his skill on the ice.
But maybe he's starting to realize that there's more to life than the game.
That happiness, real happiness, comes from places that have nothing to do with a scoreboard.
“And you,” my dad says abruptly, turning to pin me with a look that makes me feel like a young boy again. “Don't think I didn't see that shirt on your bed, Ryan.”
Fuck. Was there a shirt?
Shit!
There was a shirt!
Addie's shirt.
I double-checked my room for crying out loud, how did I miss her shirt? Didn’t she put it back on?
“It's not what you think,” I say quickly, my mind racing for an excuse.
“Don't bullshit me, Ryan.” My dad's voice is hard, his eyes scowling. “I’m telling you now, don't let her ruin your performance on the ice. We already lost against the Saints, and we don’t need another big loss.”
I wince because that’s all he cares about.
The problem was that Baddie didn’t come to the damn game, and I needed her.
It sounds stupid, I know, but she came to almost every game until that point.
It was an expectation on my end, and I see that now.
If I have no expectations, I won’t be disappointed.
This is a hard lesson to learn. My dad is my fucking coach. I would love to keep my personal life far away from my professional one. Hockey always comes first, no matter what though. I worked too hard to get here to throw it away for anything or anyone even if I have other dreams and desires.
But with Addie, everything's different. She's not some passing distraction, some puck bunny looking for a good time and losing her, losing what we have? It's not an option. I won't let it be.
“It wasn’t her fault,” I argue back, even when I know my dad won’t like it.
My dad’s eyes narrow, his mouth twisting like he's tasted something sour. “That girl's been after your money and status since day one, kid. Open your eyes.”
“What?” I blink at him, genuinely baffled. “What money? What status? In case you haven't noticed, I'm just a rookie. I don't have any of that shit yet.”
“But you will,” my dad insists, jabbing a finger at my chest. “You're the best damn goaltender this league has seen in years, Ryan.
That comes with perks, with clout. And a girl like that, with her little coffee shop and her new job at that sports bar, you think she doesn't see the benefit of attaching herself to you?”
I actually laugh at that. The idea is so ludicrous.
“Benefit? Dad, come on. Baddie's the most independent person I've ever met.
She's built that shop from the ground up through grit and hard work.
And the bar gig is to help pay off bills.
She doesn't need me, or my hypothetical future fame, for anything.”
My dad shakes his head, his expression bleak. “You're too close to it, son. You can't see her clearly. But I'm telling you, that girl's no good. She's got an agenda, same as she always has. Have you seen the way she looks at me? She'd happily shove me into traffic if she could get away with it.”
I scrub a hand down my face, suddenly exhausted.
“Maybe that's because you've never given her a fair shake, Dad.
You've given her a hard time since the day you met her, convinced she's some gold-digging puck bunny out to corrupt your precious hockey prince.” I shake my head. “And I’m not even your favorite son––”
“Watch your mouth,” my dad snaps, his eyes flashing. Suddenly I’m scared about practice this week. Shit. “I'm your dad. I'm allowed to have reservations about the girl sniffing after my son.”
“Reservations?” I echo. “You hate her. You've made that painfully clear, time and again. But you know what? It doesn't matter. Because I––”
I cut myself off before I can say it, the words sticking in my throat. Love. I love her. I'm in love with her. But I can't say it, not here, not like this. Not with my dad glaring at me like I've just committed some unforgivable sin.
“I care about her,” I say instead, my voice rough, pissed off about the stupid shirt on my bed. I feel like a damn teenager right now. “Baddie is my best friend. And if you can't see how amazing she is, how good she is for me then you really don’t know me.”
My dad opens his mouth to respond, but he's cut off by the sound of the front door opening. We both turn to see Addie stepping out onto the porch, her eyes finding mine. She smiles, small and sweet, and lifts her hand in a little wave.
Just like that, the tension drains out of me, the tightness in my chest easing.
I lift my hand in return, ignoring the way my dad stiffens beside me. He can think what he wants and can have all the doubts and suspicions he likes. It won't change a damn thing.
Addison Montgomery is my present and my future. And no one, not even my dad, can convince me otherwise.
“I gotta go,” I mutter, already moving toward her. “Good talk, Dad. Always a pleasure. See you on the ice.”
I don't wait for his response, don't look back to see the disapproval on his face. I just stride across the lawn to where Addie's waiting, her arms crossed, and her brow furrowed.
“Hey,” I say when I reach her, resisting the urge to pull her into me, to bury my face in her hair and just breathe.
She shrugs, her eyes darting over my shoulder to where my dad's still standing. I turn my head toward him, and he’s glancing down at his phone. Her gaze finds mine again, searching. “Is everything all right with your dad? You both looked pretty intense just now.”
I blow out a breath, the ghost of our conversation rattling around in my head. “I don't know, Ads. He's got some opinions, that's for sure.”
She snorts delicately. “That's one way to put it. If the looks he's been shooting me all night are any indication, I'd say his opinion of me hasn't improved much over the years.”
“Hey.” I catch her hand, but she pulls away. “He’s a hard ass, so don’t mind him. I can deal with him. But enough about my family. Madison’s gone. Looks like my dad is leaving. The teams are heading out soon. All I’ve been thinking about is how to get you alone.”
She whispers, “It’s been five years of friendship today, and because I know you think I’m your good luck charm, I have something for you.”
“I didn’t get you anything,” I mutter, feeling like an asshole.
She tugs me into the garage where no one can see us. She pulls out something from her pocket and shoves it into my pocket quickly.
I have zero time to know what it is, so I attempt to grab it. She tries to stop me, but I yank it out and hold it in front of me.
It’s her thong with the hockey sticks on the front. Immediately, all my blood goes straight to my dick.
“Baddie,” I muster, my mood instantly no longer annoyed. “You are bad .”
She smiles. “I think the underwear has the good luck.”
I stare at it and ask, “I want you to be wearing these on game nights.”
She steps closer to me. “I bought something new for the games you win.”
“Win?” I lick my lips, staring down at hers. This must be happening because of number one on my list. “What if I lose?”
She shrugs. “Don’t lose.”
When my hands grip her waist, she laughs, “Let’s get back to the party.”
I shove the thong in my pocket and plant a kiss on her. “You have no idea what you do to me.”