Chapter 10 - Nate
I’ve been meaning to walk over there all damn day.
Every time I take a step, something gets in the way.
A teammate with a question. A camera pointed where I don’t want it.
A girl who thinks my bicep is a handrail.
Or maybe it isn’t them. Maybe it’s me, more content to watch than risk finding out I don’t have anything worth saying she’d want to hear.
So I watch.
Tessa’s by the lower deck, sunlight sliding over her shoulders like it was invented for that job.
She’s been orbiting in and out of circles that have nothing in common except the way they rearrange themselves when she walks up.
Kenzie drags her to meet wives and kids; Reeves’ little girl barely leaves her side.
Even Jamie, the kid from PR, has her laughing, hands moving as he pitches something that looks a lot like hope in a storyboard.
I tell myself I’ll go when she’s alone. She isn’t. Not once. And even when there’s a slice of space, my feet act like I nailed them to the deck.
I want to thank her. That’s the line I feed myself. Thanks for getting Mom and Dad here. Thanks for whatever you said that made Eli unclench his jaw. Thanks for the way Kenzie looks ten pounds lighter in worry today.
But the words sit heavy, stuck behind my ribs with everything else I don’t say.
Tessa finishes with Jamie and starts toward my parents. My feet finally listen. One step, then another, heat beating up through the boards into my soles, bass thudding against the inside of my skull like a second pulse.
I almost make it.
Reeves cuts across my line, Olivia’s towel-wrapped body tucked against his chest, a careful look on his face I’ve only ever seen on the ice.
He moves toward Tessa like the ground shifts a degree to make it easier.
They exchange a few words I can’t hear, and then she smiles, bright, blinding, like the sun came closer on purpose, and hands him her phone.
I stop so fast it feels like a groin pull.
Reeves? The guy who hasn’t so much as glanced at a woman since Olivia. The same one who told a model last month to “back it up, respectfully” because she tried to kiss his cheek for a selfie?
He’s getting her number.
Something ugly crawls up my throat. It tastes like jealousy and a mistake I haven’t made yet.
“Cap.” The word comes from behind me, low, a warning that already knows I’ll ignore it. I turn. Jensen’s leaning against the railing, arms folded, watching me like he’s seen this movie and knows the ending. Beside him, Anders looks sun-pink and too pleased for my liking.
“That one isn’t for you,” Jensen says, calm and sure.
I blink. “The fuck does that mean?”
Anders lifts his chin toward Tessa. “She’s a good girl,” he says, not like he’s putting her on a pedestal, more like he’s setting a boundary I’d be an idiot to cross. “One-in-a-million kind. Not part of a whatever the fuck kind of harem you've got going on lately, Captain.”
I laugh, sharp and humourless. “You two holding auditions for moral compass of the month?”
“Save it,” Jensen says. No heat, just truth. “We aren't judging the way you wanna live your life, if we actually believe you were happy. But you’re still bleeding out from Brielle and pretending you aren't. Leave the good ones alone until you know what you’re doing.”
I take a step in, crowding his space because I’m tired of everyone having an opinion on me. “You think you know what the hell I’m doing?”
“Yeah,” Anders says softly. “You’re watching something you want and acting like it's a problem because wanting it means you’d have to stop being the guy you’ve been playing.”
There’s a world where I make a joke and skate off this ice. I miss it by a mile.
“Go fuck yourselves,” I say, and shoulder past and head for the only thing that ever made sense, my family.
Reeves intercepts me at the stairs, Olivia tucked up against him, damp curls sprung into perfect chaos. She’s asleep mid-smile, head heavy against his chest, a paper crown someone made her sliding down one ear.
“We’re taking off,” he says. His voice is low, so it doesn’t wake her. “She’s cooked.”
“Looks like she had a good day,” I manage.
“She did.” He glances past me to where my family is saying goodbyes. “Thanks for not making this a shitshow.”
I huff a laugh toward the chaos around us. “Debatable.”
He starts to step around me.
“What was that?” I blurt.
He pauses. “What was what?”
“With Tessa. The number.” I hear myself. I hate the sound. “What was that?”
He blinks once, slowly. “Olivia adores her,” he says simply. “Tessa offered to take her riding. Said she’d text me times.”
“That all?” It’s out before I can stop it, small and ugly and mine.
Reeves looks from me to Tessa and back like he’s measuring something I can’t see. The softness in his face goes away. “No.”
I wait for him to say more, but he doesn't.
"No?" I raise a brow in question.
He studies me for a beat, and then he blows out a harsh breath. “That woman’s the real deal, Carson. Don’t go near her unless you're playing for keeps.”
McKenna appears at my shoulder. “Who are we talking about?" He follows everyone's glances and beams, the little fucker. "Ohhhh, Tess. Ya, she's endgame!" He says with a grin, “You know it when you see it.”
I shoot him a look, and he gives me a sheepish shrug.
"What?" he asks. "She is so nice to be around. Like she chills you out or something. Not like your sister, she definitely doesn't have me feeling calm..."
I am ready to lose my shit. But it doesn't stop there. Colby, God help me, chimes in from nowhere, sunglasses crooked, beer in hand. “Anyone can be a one-night stand.”
Anders punches him in the arm hard enough that Colby yelps and clutches the wrong bicep. “That’s why you'll die alone, Asshole.”
Jensen just looks at me. Not mad. Not smug. Patient, like he’s waiting for me to tell the truth out loud for once.
But I don't owe they assholes a fucking thing. I’m done.
I cut through them and head for the cluster of people who can hurt me without trying: Mom, Dad, Eli, Kenzie.
Tessa’s there too, listening to Dad tell a story about a stubborn heifer like the punchline is a moral and not a laugh.
She watches him with respect you can’t fake.
It loosens something in my chest I didn’t know I sandbagged shut.
Mom catches my eye first. The smile she gives me is small, real. It makes me feel six and thirty and captain and son, all in one breath.
“We’re gonna head out,” she says, touching my arm. “Your father’s convinced the cows will develop abandonment issues if we don’t get back before dark.”
Dad grunts like she read his mind. He’s already half-turned, scanning the crowd for exits.
“I want to stay,” Kenzie says quickly, raising her hand like we’re in homeroom. “We told Adam we’d be on the patio for fireworks.”
“I did tell him,” Eli adds. “Town shuts down Main Street. You should see it.”
Tessa looks between them, settles on my dad. “John, if it's not an issue, you can take my truck,” she offers, then turns to Eli. “You, me, and Kenzie can pile into your dad’s, that way we will all fit.”
It’s efficient and kind, and it rearranges the whole evening without asking anyone to bend too far. She says it like she’s done this before, solve the problem, make space for the good part.
“You’re not staying?” I ask, aiming for casual, but miss the mark, and land on something that sounds like I care, which is annoying as hell.
“We promised Adam,” Kenzie says, like the answer is obvious. “It’s a whole thing. Music, vendors, the works. You should come. It is so much fun.”
Behind me, McKenna has the hearing of a raccoon and the subtlety to match. “Country street party?” he yells. “Yes, please.” A couple of the guys echo him. Someone whistles. A few of the girls groan about bugs and locals; two more say it sounds cute, like a Hallmark movie.
“Fine,” I say, because I can’t exactly say I was already halfway to asking if I was able to join. “I’ll clean up. Meet you there.”
“Save me a dance, Tess!” Anders calls over my shoulder because he wants to die young.
Eli doesn’t even look up as he answers, dry as a July field. “Have fun stealing her from Chase and Adam.”
Everything in me goes still.
Chase. Adam.
Like Dr. Chase Morgan and Adam Palmer?
“Who the fuck is she dating?” I ask before my brain can keep my mouth from making me look like a grade-A idiot.
Kenzie blinks at me, innocent for half a second before it detonates into laughter. Full fucking cackle, hand to her stomach, head thrown back. “Oh, that’s adorable,” she says, wiping her eyes. “Good luck with that.”
I open my mouth. Nothing helpful comes out. Dad hoists one cooler, Eli takes the other. Tessa is either ignoring my outburst or somehow managed not to hear.
She doesn’t look at me when she passes, following behind Dad.
“I know you have this place.” Mom says to me as she kisses my cheek. “But if you decide to come home. I washed the extra sheets.”
It feels like a boulder lodged in my throat. “Thanks,” I say, voice quiet.
They head for the trucks, Kenzie walking backward to beam at me. “Don’t be late,” she sings.
I watch them go, watch Tessa tuck herself into the rhythm of my family like she’s meant to be a part of them.
The deck hums back to life. Someone turns the music up.
A girl I don’t remember meeting asks if I’m coming to the after-after party in the city, something about a party Brielle will be at.
Because I want to be anywhere near that witch.
Colby complains about his arm like he lost it in a tragic training accident.
Jamie hovers near the steps, phone in hand, catching the light on the lake.
I go inside, take a shower that smells like cedar and spice, put on a clean white tee that doesn’t advertise anything, and slip on worn jeans I haven’t worn since before I learned how to posture for cameras.
In the mirror, I look like a man who could walk down a shut-down Main Street and remember how to smile with his heart.
I text Kenzie. “Save us a table.”
Outside, the party yawns wider to cover the space my family left.
People laugh like they’re getting paid per decibel.
The lake blushes toward evening. I give a fifteen-minute warning to anyone coming with me.
I swear you'd think I had a crew of teenage girls and not a bunch of grown ass men who play hockey professionally, as they all push into the house to get ready.
Maybe I don’t know what I’m going to say.
Maybe it’s enough that I’m finally going where the words might find me.
Maybe surrounding myself with my past will help me figure out who I will be in the future.