Chapter 31
Thirty-One
Hannah
Laughter and loud voices, speaking in Spanish, hit me like a brick wall when I step into Sean’s foyer.
Dammit! I forgot his family was flying in today.
I kick the front door shut behind me, dropping my bag onto the entry table and my keys into the bowl. They land with a clink that nobody notices over the arguing.
“Loteria! Loteria! LO-TE-RIA!” Jade screeches from the other room.
“You cheated!” an unfamiliar voice accuses.
Rounding the corner, I catch Jade standing in a chair with her tiny hands planted on her hips, leaning over the table like she’s ready to throw down. “Did not!”
“Yes, you did,” a man with light tan skin and brown hair argues. “Junior was translating for you and telling you where to put your quarter.”
“Don’t be such a baby, Matt,” Sean laughs. “She doesn’t understand Spanish. You will soon though, won’t you, princess?”
“Yep. Seany’s gonna teach me,” Jade says.
I step farther into the room, and the conversations come to a dead halt. Every head turns, and all eyes fall on me as I head for my goddaughter. Ignoring the attention, I sneak up behind Jade, grabbing her around the waist and blowing raspberries into her neck while tickling her ribs.
“Are you cheating?” I tease.
She shrieks with laughter, squirming so hard I nearly lose hold of her. “No! I’m not a cheater!”
“Mi amor, you can’t be picking her up.”
I glance toward the kitchen and . . . holy shit.
Sean stands at the counter beside a woman I instantly clock as his mom. An apron dusted in flour hangs from around his neck while he presses dough flat with a rolling pin.
Why is making tortillas so fucking hot?
Collecting my bearings, I stick my tongue out at him like a child, earning another fit of giggles from Jade.
“I can do whatever I want,” I tell him, setting her down. “Isn’t that right, princess?”
“That’s right,” she agrees.
Sean wipes his hands on a dish towel and saunters over. Hooking two fingers beneath my chin, he tilts my face up and kisses me slowly, making my stomach flip and heat creep up my neck.
“Hi, baby. Ready to meet the crazy people I was telling you about?”
“I forgot they were coming. I would’ve baked cookies or something,” I admit as everyone begins talking over each other again.
“It’s okay.” He dusts one last kiss on my lips, then points a finger. “Of course, you already know Viv.”
She takes a sip of her red wine, then sets her glass down on the table before coming over to hug me.
“Sorry we didn’t get to have that lunch before I left. Things were hectic. It’s good to see you again.” She squeezes me tight.
“No worries.” I tell her, as we release one another. “I hear you got the distribution deal, so I'm sure we’ll have a lot of lunches together. Congratulations, by the way.”
Her face lights up. “Thank you. I’m excited.”
Sean points toward his brother across the table. “This shithead is my brother, Mateo.”
“Watch it,” he warns. “We all know who the shithead is. You can call me Matt or Matty.”
“My sister, Ashley. She’s the baby and the whitest.”
“Rude!” Ashley snaps.
“It’s true. Even your name is white,” Matt chimes in.
“Adopted from the hobbit farm,” Sean adds.
“The only one adopted here is Matt,” Ashley counters.
Matt throws his head back and laughs before lowering his chin back down and narrowing his eyes at her. “?Estás segura? Pareces más del lechero que—”
“Cállate!” Ashley yells, yanking off her shoe, and hurling it across the table at Matt’s head. He ducks just before it hits him in the face.
“What did he just say?” I ask Sean.
His shoulders shake with laughter. “He asked her if she was sure he was the one adopted because she looked more like the milk man.”
I turn my head and cover my mouth, so Ashley won’t see me laughing as three women approach me.
“Hi, I’m Sofia. This is Isabella and Victoria,” she says before each one of them pulls me into a quick hug.
Sean introduces his sisters’ husbands and his nieces and nephews.
With all the names he fires at me, my brain short-circuits.
I’ll never remember everyone. Between everybody talking over each other again, the laughter, and the sheer number of people packed into the house, overstimulation creeps in, and I feel myself starting to recluse.
His mom appears in front of me, taking my hands in her warm ones.
“Hola, mija. Es un placer conoc—” She stops herself and closes her eyes, muttering in Spanish under her breath, then focuses back on me.
“I’m sorry. I get so caught up talking to the kids, I forget not everyone can understand me.
Let’s try this again. Hello, Hannah. It’s lovely to meet you.
I’m Elena, and this is my husband, Sean Senior. ”
I glance over at the man standing next to her. Damn, he’s tall! My Sean is 6’4”, but his dad is taller than him by a few inches.
“So, what are you all playing?” I ask.
Jade turns around in her seat. “We’re playing Loteria! Seany said you have to watch Matt a’cause he cheats.”
“That’s bullshit! I don’t cheat.”
Sean leans in whispering in my ear. “Matt does cheat. We make him roll up his sleeves.”
“Go on, son.” Elena ushers him toward the table. “Teach Hannah how to play. I’ll finish up in the kitchen.”
He takes off his apron, handing it over to his mother, then seats me between him and Aiden. Matt says something in Spanish, and Granny reaches over, patting his arm.
“I’ve changed my mind, Hannah. I’ll take Matt instead of Sean.”
Matt jerks his head back, and the look on his face makes Granny laugh. “What’s that look about? If ya keep talkin' in words I don’t understand, I’m just gonna assume yer tellin’ everybody ya wanna take me to bed.”
The entire room erupts in laughter, and that’s how we spend the rest of the evening .
. . Laughing our asses off, eating Mexican food, and talking trash to one another.
I never had a big family; it’s always been just me and my dad until Kat came along, but as I take in everyone gathered around the table, I see my future flash before my eyes. The same one Sean promised me.
Jade walks in front of me, looking all cute in Aiden’s jersey.
She got ready with me tonight, so I twisted her hair into two little space buns and dusted glitter across both our cheeks .
. . Okay, maybe the glitter didn’t exactly stay on our cheeks, but the temporary tattoos of Sean and Aiden’s numbers didn’t slide off, so that’s a win.
My hands cover hers as we guide Granny’s wheelchair down the aisle toward the accessible seating near the attacking zone.
“Ya know, I heard the stretches are the best part of this game . . .”
“Oh my god, Granny!” I snort, parking her right behind the glass and taking a seat beside her.
Jade hops onto the chair next to me. “Do you see Daddy?”
My eyes scan the ice, and when they land on his jersey, I point in his direction. “He’s over there, in front of the high slot. See the two circles? He’s—”
“Oh! I see him. DADDY!” She waves real big. “Why is he swishing his legs back and forth like that?”
“He's warming up his hip joints, so he doesn’t get hurt.”
Speaking of dads, where the hell is mine?
“Oh, now I get why stretches are the best part. That player over there is humping the ice. Just look at him, rockin’ those hips.”
“Granny!” I whisper yell. “You can’t say stuff like that. Those are called hip flexor stretches.”
“Well, whatever it is, yer gonna need to call a janitor over here to put up a wet floor sign.”
My eyes roll behind closed eyelids. God help me. When they flutter back open again, I glance over at the box, looking for my dad again, but I only see Carter.
“Hannah?”
Someone calls my name, and I turn around. Aspen stands behind me with a nervous expression. That woman is never nervous, so her fidgeting with her hands like she’s in trouble about something makes me a little apprehensive.
“Yes?”
“I hate to ask this, and I know you probably don’t want to, but your dad has been throwing up in the locker room for the past thirty minutes. Can you help Carter?”
“Is he okay?”
“He said he might have the flu.”
Shit!
I glance over at the little girl sitting next to me.
“I can’t leave Jade,” I say, trying to get out of this.
“I’ll sit with her and Granny. We’ll have a good time, won’t we, munchkin?”
“Yep!” Jade says, then turns and looks behind her. “Where’s Tucker?”
“He’s upstairs with Mammaw. I’ll text him to come down here.”
Hopping out of her seat, she bounces up and down on the balls of her feet. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
Why would they ask me? I don’t get it. There are other assistant coaches—even though they’re nowhere to be found at the moment—but I know they’re around here somewhere. I huff a sigh and stand to face Aspen.
“If I mess this up, I don’t want to hear any bitching out of any of you, and if the media starts talking shit, I might just tell them to go to hell, so you might wanna go ahead and warn Teagan in advance.”
“Thank you.” She throws her arms around me, and I hug her back. “I love you. And I believe in you. You’re not gonna screw up.”
“Love you too.” We release each other, and I squat down in front of Jade. “Okay, princess. I’ve gotta go out there and boss these big o’ boys around since Pops is sick. You stay here with Aspen and be a good girl. Make sure Granny doesn’t get into trouble.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” I kiss her forehead, then head down to the player’s box.
“What are you doing down here?” Aiden asks, squeezing his water bottle in my direction.
Water douses my jersey, and I gape at him. “Stop,” I snap.
I’m already a nervous wreck, and he’s playing fuck around fuck around? Like the manchild he is, he squirts water at me again, but this time it hits me in the face. Plucking a towel off the bench, I pat my face dry, then take a deep breath before pinning him with a glare.
“Keep it up if you wanna be benched,” I warn, snatching the bottle from him and tossing it behind me.
“Fuck yes!” He yells across the ice. “The Protégé is coaching us tonight.”
Great. Thanks a lot, bud. No pressure. No pressure at all.
Carter passes over the tablet in his hands. “Glad to see you down here.”
“Glad to see everyone else’s confidence in me makes up for the lack of my own,” I smart back.
Glancing down at the screen, I frown, confused as to why Dad chose to start Drew after the shit he pulled last game. This isn’t gonna work for me. I look out at the ice, tracking the lines as they rotate through rush drills, then make a player adjustment on the tablet.
“We’re not starting Drew against their first line,” I tell Carter as he stands beside me, arms crossed while I scroll through pairings with my heart lodged in my damn throat.
I glance over, and his brows pinch together. “Why’s that?”
“He cheats too high in the neutral zone, and they’ll burn him out on the backcheck.”
“Who do you want instead?”
“Let’s start Hayes. He’s stronger on the boards and actually tracks back.” I hand Carter the tablet and look up. “If Werchky pinches deep during the first period like he did last game, cut his shifts.”
The corner of Carter’s mouth lifts, and mischief dances in his eyes.
“What’s that smirk about, Coach?”
“I don’t know, you tell me . . . Coach,” he smarts off.
The opening faceoff drops, and every nerve ending in my body comes to life as Cal wins the draw and passes the puck back to Trevor. He sends it to Werchky. Aneheim’s forecheck closes fast, forcing Werchkey to rim it around the boards instead of making a clean breakout.
“Reverse it! Reverse it!” I yell.
Trevor cuts behind the net and grabs the puck before the opposing winger can bury him against the glass. He banks it up the wall to Hayes, who chips it into the neutral zone. Aiden flies down the right side on the rush, but both defensemen collapse toward him.
“Trailer! Trailer! Trailer!” I shout.
Aiden forces the pass through traffic, and it gets picked off at the blue line.
My lips pinch together as the other team counters in the opposite direction.
“Backcheck, dammit!” I yell.
Cal drops low, cutting off the passing lane, and Jerome flies up at the line to kill the rush. The puck clinks, ricocheting into the corner, and Hayes battles for it along the wall.
“Yes, Hayes! Stay on him! Stay on him!” I pace back and forth.
He digs the puck free with a hard shoulder check and flips it behind the net to Cal during the line change. I glance over at Carter, watching him update the shift on the tablet. Anaheim's first line hops back over the boards for their own shift change.
Shit!
As the game progresses, my brain feels like it’s racing a thousand miles an hour.
I take the tablet from Carter and glance down at the screen, tracking matchups and ice time.
When I look back up, bodies fly through the neutral zone, sticks clash, and the puck moves so damn fast it’s impossible to track unless you know exactly where to look.
“Jerome, tighter gap!”
Sean drops into a butterfly, and the puck slams into his chest, rebounding dangerously into the crease.
My stomach drops.
“Clear it! Fucking clear it!”
Matt winds up to shoot the puck into our goal, but instead of taking the shot, he drops his stick and throws his gloves onto the ice.
He skates over to Aiden, grabbing him by the collar, then spins him around, landing a punch to his face.
Aiden's helmet tumbles to the ice. I expected a fight with a game this heated, but I didn’t expect a fight between Matt and Aiden.
Everything happens all at once. Matt yanks Aiden by the jersey and throws another punch. Aiden fires one back, knocking Matty sideways. Then Sean completely loses his shit and skates out of the crease, grabbing Aiden by the front of his jersey and getting in his face.
Anaheim’s forward sinks a puck into our net just before the whistle blows.
Fuck! What the hell was that?
A linesman steers Sean back to the goal, and both Matt and Aiden are tossed into the sin bin.
Great! Now, we’re not only down a point, I’m down a good fucking winger for the next five minutes.