30. Monroe
THIRTY
MONROE
LISTEN TO YOUR MOMMA, JOSH.
I rubbed the back of my neck, staring at the summer training schedule without really seeing it. July was still fairly low-key for the guys, but I had plans to review now that the Draft was over.
And overthinking about a certain stubborn woman.
Graciella left right after day one of the Draft ended, and I hadn’t heard from her since. A weekend’s worth of space had to be enough because my patience was wearing thin, and there was no way I’d make it through this Monday without reaching out.
Problem was, I didn’t have a fucking clue what I’d say to her when I finally saw her. I liked her, wanted her…but I wasn’t a single man in my twenties anymore. My stomach knotted every time I considered sleeping with her, no strings attached.
Something told me I’d already attached. And that had me panicking.
Yeah, I’d given her space, but the truth was I’d been hoping the distance would loosen whatever she’d tied around my chest. The strings I didn’t want to cut but knew I should.
I blew out a breath and dropped my head into my hands.
“Daddy!”
A small body knocked into me, shooting us backward in the office chair and nearly colliding with the back wall.
“Hey, Golds. Why aren’t you at daycare?” I kissed the top of her head, the scent of her strawberry detangler loosening some of the knots in my chest. Dredging up memories of when her blonde hair grew long enough that something needed to be done with it, and I was fucking terrified.
Halfway considered chopping it back to the length she’d been born with.
Seeing as how my momma only had a rowdy boy for a kid, she wasn’t any help in that department. I’d ordered one of the mannequin heads they use for hair school; for weeks, my nights were spent cussing out the damned thing while YouTube videos on the subject played on a loop in the background.
She peered up at me, her two braided ponytails flinging behind her shoulder. “Nana took me for panpakes first.” The sugary scent of syrup on her little breath hit me in the face.
I smiled, glancing up at my mom who leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her sun-kissed skin, a mischievous smile on her face.
“You better hurry, Golds. Uncle Dalton is waitin’ for ya. If you want those treats before school, you better skeddadle.”
Golds climbed off my lap and was out the door so fast I wasn’t sure I’d even had time to blink.
I shook my head, a laugh slipping out. “Late start?”
“Yup. But I let her think we played hooky for a bit.” She smiled and settled into the chair across from my desk.
“Now, when are we gonna talk about how I was gone for a few short weeks, and you get a girlfriend and suddenly love being in the spotlight? Think I’ve given you long enough to keep to yourself ’bout it. ”
“Uh…” I stared at the blank computer screen, palms already clamming up.
“You’ve always told me about these things right away, Josh.”
“I have?” My voice came out high and squeaky. “I don’t think I’ve always told you right away, Momma…”
She cocked a brow.
The guys thought my silent stare was intimidating. This woman could make you spill every secret you’d ever kept.
“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to worry.” I sighed, scrubbing at my eyes. “The Stars told me I needed to improve my image, or I’d be let go. They brought someone in to help. The girlfriend thing isn’t real.”
Silence.
I forced myself to look at her. She nodded slowly, lips pressed together, not saying a word—but I knew there was plenty she wanted to. When she rolled her lips like that with those short little nods, she had opinions.
“You’re disappointed.”
“Didn’t say that.”
“You haven’t said anything.”
She steepled her fingers in her lap. “Was the girlfriend ruse the team’s idea?”
“No, that was Graciella’s.” I leaned back in my chair. “She said my attitude was shit and there was no way to get the press on my side with just me, so we needed to manufacture something they could get behind.”
“You like her.” It wasn’t a question.
“Who? Itzel? Yeah, she’s a nice girl, very respe—”
“No.” She stared me down. “This Graciella woman. You like her.”
“Why do you think that?”
She gave me the same look she always did when I asked how she knew something I hadn’t told her. “You smiled when you said she told you your attitude is shit.”
The knot in my gut tightened, the way it did every time Graciella crossed my mind—which was more often than I wanted to admit.
“Wow, groundbreaking, Mom. Real hard-hitting investigation. I smiled, so that means I want to be with her.” I rolled my eyes, sweat prickling at the back of my neck.
“I didn’t say you wanted to be with her.” She propped her chin in her hands. “I said you liked her. I didn’t even say romantically. Could’ve meant platonically.” She paused. “But you don’t like her platonically, do you?”
She flashed a shit-eating grin—the same one from decades ago when I’d spent an entire week swearing I’d hate hockey, and she’d known better before I’d even laced up my first pair of skates.
The coarse hairs on my chin scraped across my palm, the sound filling the quiet. Momma sat there, patient, waiting for me to break. The longer I thought about it, the more I realized she and Graciella would probably get along terrifyingly well. Both of them loved putting me in my place.
She quirked a brow when the silence lingered.
“I don’t know how I feel about her.” I’d been actively avoiding that question since last week.
The kiss had been something else. The thing that happened in the bathroom…
it was all I’d thought about for days. Pushing it further would only complicate things more.
“I slept in a bed with her at the Draft.”
“Whoa.” She held up both hands and leaned back. “Son, we’re close, and I’m glad you feel you can share things with me, but I already had the birds and bees talk with you, and you figured out how to have my Goldie, so I don’t need details on this part of your life.”
Heat crawled up my neck. “No, Mom—we didn’t have sex. I literally slept with her. Held her. Well, technically, she held me.”
She smiled, clearly pleased with that detail. Something about saying it out loud made it feel more real than I was comfortable with.
“I told her about the League and how they hung me out to dry. About Rachel…”
Her eyes widened. “Wow. You really do like this woman. You never talk about Rachel with anyone.”
Even her. She’d never pushed me on it, always respected the line I’d drawn around that part of my life—which was exactly why she understood what it meant that I’d crossed it with Graciella.
“So, if you’ve already opened up to her like that, what’s holdin’ you back?”
I huffed out a short laugh, skin feeling too tight.
Another question I’d been avoiding.
“Well, the League thinks I’m dating another woman. It wouldn’t exactly be a great PR move to blow that up by dating my PR handler.” It was a cop-out, and she called me on it immediately.
“That’s bullshit, Josh. You’ve never cared what they think. Now you do?”
“Yeah, Momma.” I gripped the arms of my chair. “Tommy told me I’d get the can if I can’t turn public opinion around. So no, I’m not risking my career and everything I can give Goldie over some woman.”
The words tasted wrong the second they left my mouth. Like ash.
Graciella wasn’t some woman. She’d already proven she wouldn’t put Goldie at risk either—not once, not even when it would’ve been easier.
“The face you just made told me everything I needed to know.”
I looked up, realizing I’d been staring at nothing.
“I don’t think you’d even consider being with someone who didn’t care for your daughter the way you do. It’s been nearly five years since she lost her mother, Josh, and in that time, you haven’t let a single person get close.”
Everything she said cut straight through the excuses I’d been stacking up, leaving me raw.
“I’m not going to bring women around her, Mom.” My voice came out louder than I’d intended—louder than I’d ever raised it with her.
She frowned, but there was no anger in it. Only sympathy. “I’m talking about you, Josh. You haven’t let a single person close to you in five years. Now someone comes along that you clearly have strong feelings for, and you’re going to walk away from that?”
I tipped my head back, needing to break eye contact. “But what if she leaves Goldie?” My voice cracked on the words.
What if she leaves me?
“How do I let someone into my daughter’s life without any guarantee she’ll stay?
” I shook my head, feeling the walls go back up.
“No. We don’t need anyone. Look at you—you raised me on your own and you were incredible at it.
I never wanted for anything. And now you’re here for Goldie, too. We’re fine. The three of us.”
The cool wood of my desk did nothing to settle the heat in my palms or the churn of everything I was trying to bury. The tears pooling in my mother’s eyes didn’t help.
“Momma…” I started to get up.
She stopped me with a raised hand.
“Oh, Josh.” She exhaled slowly. “My not talking about how hard it was raising you alone might have been the right call when you were a child, but it didn’t do you any favors as an adult.”
I sank back into my chair, thrown.
“You don’t think I would’ve loved having a partner through all of that? Someone to lean on when I was exhausted or unsure? Someone who wanted to protect you as much as they wanted to protect me?”
An image surfaced before I could stop it—Graciella stepping in front of Vincent without hesitating. Sitting cross-legged on the floor with Goldie before bedtime.
My mother’s voice pulled me back.
“I will always be there for you two. Always. But I want to be Goldie’s grandma, not the only woman helping shape who she becomes.” She reached across the desk, her hand covering mine. “If you have someone who wants to be there for her—for you—then you’d be an idiot not to go after her.”
Fuck.
She was right.