9. Paxton
Iwas going to be in deep trouble with Coach for missing the flight back with the team, but I couldn’t leave without talking to Hana again. Ida Jane had recommended that I give her time, but after seeing her with the skinny shit earlier today and the way she’d fled after the game, I didn’t have that luxury.
I mean, I did, but I’d already missed years of time with Hana because of my father’s meddling, and I refused to miss even a single additional moment.
That’s how I ended up in the backseat of an Uber, my ear bent by a chatty driver named Herb. His nonstop dissertation seemed to posit that sports, women, and beer were the only necessities in a man’s life.
Sorry, bucko, but we’ll have to disagree on that one. “Thanks for the ride,” I said, slamming the door shut when we finally arrived. He’d been entertaining and seemed like a decent guy, all in all. If I wasn’t concerned about Hana, I’d probably have wanted to take him out for a beer or two.
I climbed the steps to her apartment building, unsurprised when a shadow peeled off the side wall. I eyed the skinny shit as he stalked toward me.
“You can have her.” Skinny Shit sniffed as he strode past. “She’s not worth the effort, and she’s not even that good of an engineer. Good riddance to you both.”
Why do people think athletes are divas? We’re used to hard work and consistent, brutal rejection. This guy, though, hadn’t worked for years on a singular goal—he didn’t have the stamina for difficult tasks. Most people didn’t.
“She’s not a thing to toss between people,” I told him, shaking my head as I tried to ease the annoyance out of my system. “Hana’s her own person, and she’ll make her own choices.”
“Yeah, well, she can choose a different career as well, because I don’t want her anymore,” he sneered. “And what I say in aerospace tech goes.”
Fuck. This. Guy. Gunnar Evaldson, the Wildcatters’ owner, who’d made billions of dollars in his career, wasn’t pathetically egotistical. But Skinny Shit couldn’t see the damage he did to others because he was too busy trying to soothe his ruffled feathers. And the fact that he’d sacrifice Hana angered me. Even as I had that thought, though, I clenched my fist, hating that I hadn’t behaved any better than him three years before.
But I was different now. I refused to be like Skinny Shit.
“Your loss, man.” I gave him a wide berth as I headed up the stairs.
“She ruined the chance for a beautiful career—for you.” Derision dripped from his words, like poison from a snake’s fang.
I kept walking.
“Men like you make me sick. Big, brawny—stupid. You just can’t let the rest of us have something good, can you?”
“You never learned when to shut up, Jeremy.”
I looked up to find the source of that voice and saw a girl hanging out of the window above us. She waved. “You want to see Hana?” she asked.
“Yeah, if you think?—”
“After Jeremy sleazed all over her earlier, she’s probably desperate to see someone decent. Hang on. I’ll be down in a jiff.” She raised her voice. “And I called the police, Jeremy, for disrupting the peace and breaking and entering. And being a total creepy bastard who doesn’t know the difference between a pen and his dick.”
My new favorite person shot me a wink as I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Skinny Shit might have called me dumb—which didn’t stick because it was ridiculous as well as wrong—but the woman above had just ripped his masculinity to shreds. I liked this girl. If she was a hockey fan, I was getting her tickets to some games.
She arrived, out of breath, a moment later. I noted her wide-set hazel eyes and thick, slightly frizzy coppery hair. An idea formed.
“Do you like dogs?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she replied. “Who doesn’t? Weirdos, that’s who. So Jeremy must be a dog hater.”
“How about hockey?” I walked through the door she held open.
She shrugged. “Never paid much attention to sports.”
I heaved a gusty sigh. “Pity. I think you’d be great for my friend Cruz.”
“I know Lennon, and I have watched him play a time or two.”
I raised my eyebrow at her casual knowledge drop. The door clicked shut behind us. There was just enough light for me to see her blush.
“I thought you didn’t pay attention to hockey.”
“I don’t,” she countered. “Really couldn’t be bothered with something that has less meaning to the outcome of our species than the day’s weather.”
At my wince, she blushed. “Sorry, that was blunt. And rude. Erm…Lennon looked great in that milk campaign.”
I smirked. “He really did. Made me want to drink some.”
She giggled and shook her head. “Hana’s place is that one.” She pointed to a door.
“Thanks,” I said. “Let me know if you decide you like hockey or Cruz. I’ll hook you up.”
She smiled more broadly, showing off a shallow dimple and dancing eyes. “Oh, well, then I should introduce myself. I’m Vivian Lee. But like I said, I know Lennon.” A shadow of pain slid across her face even as she turned away to head back into her place. The door closed softly behind her.
Sucking in a bolstering breath, I knocked on the door she’d said was Hana’s. I heard Hana’s uneven gait move across the space, each step in tandem with my heart. She flung open the door, a scowl raking her brow.
“I told you never to come—oh, hello, Paxton.” She cleared her throat. “Um, what are you doing here?”
I leaned my forearms on the door frame above us and enjoyed Hana’s slight jaw drop and flash of interest. “Well, first, I need to make sure you’re not talking to me about never coming back.”
She shook her head. “No, that was my ex-boss.” She hesitated, seeming to calculate something in her head before she waved me inside. I stepped into her place, noting that it was tiny but neat. Hana had always been tidy. That trait worked well for her here because the lack of clutter made the space seem…less tiny.
Her father’s teapot sat next to the stove, and her grandmother’s red silk coverlet was on the bed. Hana still wore her sweater and leggings, but she’d removed her boots and let her hair down so it spilled over her shoulder in a thick blue-black wave. I knew from experience that it would be cool and satiny to the touch.
“The skinny shit waited out front to tell me he’d fired you and I was too stupid to help you fulfill your potential.”
Hana huffed. “I need some tea. Want anything?”
“Sure. If you don’t mind.”
“I’m making chamomile. Maybe it’ll help me calm down.”
She turned on her good leg and shuffled into the kitchen, the limp more noticeable. Based on how she favored her right leg, the left one had to be hurting. She filled the kettle and grabbed two mugs.
Ah, we aren’t doing the full teapot, which means Hana isn’t accepting me here for long. I understood, but I didn’t like it. Still, I had to respect the boundaries she set. While I’d been duped by my family, Hana had been abandoned by me. I’d promised to love her, to care for her, and I’d walked away.
“What happened to the promise ring?” I asked.
Hana set down the box of tea. “I sold it.”
I swallowed, unsure what to say.
She tilted her head and studied me. “That makes you angry.”
I rubbed my palm over the back of my head. “It’s just… I worked for three summers to earn the money for that ring.”
“And then you broke your promise to me, Paxton.” The tea kettle whistled. “Look, rehashing the past is already tiresome. I needed to pay some bills. Especially…” She bit her lip and finished making us each a cup of tea. She set mine on the counter before lifting hers. Then she leaned on the counter behind her, making no move to close the growing gap between us. “Why are you really here, Pax?”
“Because I wanted to tell you again in person that I didn’t know about the accident, the hospitalization.” I swallowed. “The baby. And I’m so, so sorry you had to go through all of that alone.”
She nodded. The steam obscured her a moment, and it felt as if I was trying to translate a language with no known vocabulary.
“Thank you. I absolve you of any responsibility.”
I inhaled as I felt my eyes widen. “That’s what you think this is? A way to assuage my guilt?” My jaw tightened.
“Isn’t it?”
“No.”
“Then what is this?” she asked.
She seemed calm, collected, but I caught the faint tremor in her voice. Hana was keeping it together, but she’d had a hell of a shocking day. If my appearance yesterday had impacted her like it had me, she hadn’t slept much last night. Add to that the rollercoaster of today, and everything felt magnified and a bit warped.
Like I couldn’t quite catch my balance.
I stepped around the partial wall that separated us and walked up until the toes of my dress shoes were inches from her leg. I bent my knees, which brought us much closer to eye level. “This is me, coming to you, telling you I made a terrible mistake. One I wish to rectify.”
Those words cost me some of my pride. But what did that matter, really, if I was lonely and miserable? My pride wouldn’t laugh with me or snuggle with me. I wanted that with Hana.
“I should have ignored my father,” I continued. “Better yet, I should have told him to go fuck himself. I didn’t. That’s completely on me. And I’m so sorry you suffered because I wasn’t brave enough and strong enough to be the man you needed or deserved.”
My words seemed to bounce around the space before settling slowly, softly between us. Hana spilled tea on the counter, her hands unsteady. She set her mug aside and stared up at me, eyes liquid and warm, lips slightly parted.
“I want to be that man for you now. I know I have to prove myself, and I will. If you’ll give me that chance.”
“That’s… Wow, Pax. That’s a lot to process.”
“The skinny shit told me about your job,” I told her. I moved to the other side of her kitchen where it was wide enough for two narrow stools—the only dining space in the area. I nudged one of the stools out of my way and leaned my elbows on the strip of countertop.
She shook her head. “That’s on me, not you. Jeremy…isn’t mature. Or capable of not getting his way. And I’m sure many other things.”
“Still, I dislike that you’ve been hurt because of me.”
“Again, not your problem,” she said.
I hesitated. “I want to tell you why I needed to get in touch with you, why I started to question everything my father told me—taught me.”
She was still a long moment before she gave me a nod. “Okay.”
I took a deep breath and returned to the day after Ida Jane and Maxim’s second wedding last summer.
I’d woken in the dark, my eyes popping open as I gasped on a sob. I was a grown fucking man who’d lived alone for years, yet I’d cried in my sleep. I’d sat up, blurry-eyed.
“Never drinking again,” I’d mumbled. It made me vulnerable. Made me remember. Allowed my walls to come down enough to admit how much I missed Hana. Nausea had rolled through me, and I’d groaned as my head hit the wall.
I’d fumbled on my nightstand, found my phone, and called my mom.
“Hey, hon,” she’d sung out, chipper, when she answered.
“I can’t keep pretending I’m okay,” I’d said.
“Oh.” Then, a quieter, “Oh.”
“I miss her, Mom.”
“Oh, Paxton. I-I didn’t realize…” She’d sighed. “That’s not true. I did. You haven’t been serious about anyone since you broke up with Hana.”
“Mom, it’s killing me,” I’d said, my voice low. “I miss her. I ache because I miss her.”
“But…but you said it was for the best.”
I’d snorted derisively. “And whose idea was that?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Paxton.” She’d sounded upset.
“I want you to tell me the truth,” I’d told her. “I can hear it in your voice. You know something.”
She’d inhaled, then blown out a breath. “I’ll fly out.”
“Why? Why can’t you just tell me now?”
She’d remained silent for a long moment. So long that I’d been pretty sure she would tell me she’d changed her mind. “Because this needs to be in person.”
“What does that mean, Mom?” I’d asked, my tone sharp.
Her swallow had been thick with emotion that I’d felt through the phone. “It means that I—give me some time on this, Paxton. But you’re right. You deserve to know everything. And the first thing I should tell you is that Aiki sold the house.”
I’d risen from the bed, propelled by the need to do something. “What?”
“They don’t live down the street any longer.”
“When did that happen?”
“I’ll fly out,” she’d assured me. “We’ll talk.”
“You need to tell me. Now. Starting with why Dad was so insistent I break up with Hana.”
“I can’t… I have to talk to your father.”
“I’m going to get in touch with her. I should have done so sooner.”
“Oh, Paxton, I’m not sure?—”
“It’s not your choice, Mom. It’s mine. Clearly I don’t have all the information, but I’m sick with missing her.”
“You…you are?”
“Don’t act like that’s a surprise. You said a minute ago that—look, you saw us together,” I’d said, my tone soft. “What we had…” I’d heaved out a breath. “What we had was fucking special.”
I’d expected Mom to reprimand me for my vulgarity. Instead, she’d surprised me. “What you two shared was something most of the rest of us can’t fathom.”
“Then why did Dad pressure me?” I’d asked again.
“Because you were young,” she’d said, tears in her voice. “Sean, it’s Paxton, and he’s asking…”
The conversation had turned garbled, and then my father’s voice had flooded the line.
“Son.”
“Dad.” I’d been stiff, standoffish with him since the draft. We both knew why, and it must have weighed on him as much as it did me.
“I just… You were so young, Paxton,” he’d said. He’d cleared his throat and continued, his voice gruff. “Just over twenty-one, barely legal to have a drink. Heading into a career that was going to offer you every possible opportunity.”
I’d gnashed my teeth at that ridiculous comment they kept making. As if I hadn’t known my mind well enough then to know I wanted to play in the NHL. “I would have thought you’d want me to keep my focus, and I didn’t do that most of my first season, which nearly cost me my career.” My tone had been accusatory.
I still couldn’t believe my father had wanted me to break up with Hana, date others, instead of settling down.
“You had your whole life to settle down, and I didn’t think the girl down the street could be—should be—your whole life,” Dad had countered, his tone defensive.
Mom had been sobbing in the background, which made the hairs on my arms and at the back of my neck stand on end.
“That’s not all of it,” I’d said. “You’re still keeping something from me. Something important.”
Dad had sighed. “Paxton, you have the opportunity to meet someone glamorous. Someone who will support your career, not expect you to support hers. Ending it with Hana was for the best. You know that.”
“No, I don’t know that,” I’d said.
“We’re worried about you, honey,” Mom had said. Her voice had been closer. No doubt she’d had her hand on my father’s shoulder. They’d always been a united front. Always.
And in this, they’d kept something important from me.
“I’m unhappy that you’re upset, but this is why we didn’t want to tell you. We didn’t see a way forward where we kept a relationship with you if we told you what had happened,” my father had said.
“You’re right. You don’t. We don’t have a relationship because you lied to me,” I’d seethed. “Don’t call me. Don’t contact me again.”