19. Matt
MATT
Our night together was unforgettable and perfect. It did little to wane my feelings for Shay or the burning desire between us, but I had known that was never going to be the outcome when we agreed to have just one taste of each other.
It did, however, solidify our connection and gave me a glimpse at what we have to look forward to once we win the Cup. Many things will be celebrated that day.
The Nighthawks are closer to victory than the franchise has ever been, and if we can win this next series, we’ll take it all. That’s the focus right now, and having a partner who understands that and is just as hungry for it only fuels me more. It’s indescribable.
Just because we’ve drawn the line at having secret hookups or touching doesn’t mean that I haven’t called her every night and lit her phone up with texts.
We’ve been digitally inseparable, and I would say that I’ve been doing a good job at not making our relationship obvious when we’re at the arena, but Costy would disagree with that.
Today, I get to see her a couple of times.
Once was at morning skate this morning, where she was wearing one of her Nighthawks sweat sets.
I caught her staring a couple of times with heated eyes, which definitely made it a little distracting.
Especially when I started getting flashbacks of her splayed out before me, moaning my name.
But somehow, I played better than ever. Maybe our one-off hookup will pay off, or I got lucky. We shall see.
I’ll see her again tonight when we take on the Washington Wild, our longtime rival, in game one of the finals. They’re a damn good team with crazy talent. But so are we. In an hour, we’ll see who comes out on top when the game starts.
My headphones are on, drowning out the world, the same thing I always do before a game. A song comes on that I don’t want to hear right now, so I dig my phone out of my hoodie pocket and skip it, finding a few messages.
Kos sent one in our group chat.
Alec Kostelecky: Family dinner this weekend, pending game schedule. :)
And a few from my mom, including a photo attachment.
Mom: We are so excited to cheer you on!
I click on the photo and wait for it to finish loading. The damn service in here can be shitty sometimes. It finally processes, and my heart leaps out of my chest when I see my sweet parents taking a selfie in front of the arena.
“No way,” I mutter to myself.
My dad hasn’t been able to come to a game for a while. They can be super overwhelming for him, but if they’re here, then he must be doing even better than we imagined. And they flew in for this.
This is just what I needed tonight—having my parents here to support me. Especially my dad.
I feel giddy, like a little kid when their parents are picking them up from a summer camp and they’re desperate to be home. I was always that kid, the one who hated being away from home for too long. I’ve felt that same anticipation and emptiness since my dad was diagnosed.
I can’t imagine how scary it is for him and for my mom. God, that must be the hardest thing in the world to watch your partner go through. It’s hard as his kid, lonely even, but it has to be ten times worse for her.
But tonight, we’re celebrating where we’re at and that we’re all still together. That’s a blessing in itself. And Shay’s here. Maybe I’ll have time to introduce them to her before the game starts.
I quickly type a response to my mom before messaging Shay separately.
Me to Mom: Did you guys make it inside? I’d love to introduce you to someone.
Me to Shay: Hey, where are you at? How do you feel about meeting my parents?
Shay responds almost immediately.
Shay: I would love to. Tell me where.
Mom: We are inside. Sitting down in one of the Nighthawks family boxes now.
Okay. We’ll be there shortly. I’ll find you.
I don’t text Shay back. Instead, I call her quickly, and she answers right away.
“Hello?”
Speaking through my headphones, I ask, “Where are you?”
“Outside the room,” she responds with a sassy undertone. “My room.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. This place was mine long before it was yours.” I laugh and stand up, walking over to the exit and slipping my headphones down around my shoulders.
When I throw the door open, she hangs up the call and squints at me. “Hmm. You can win this argument for now. But it’s not over, MacArthur.”
“Deal.” I smirk, staring down into her stunning green eyes. God, she’s so fucking beautiful. The kind you can’t ever get used to seeing. It takes your breath away every single time.
“Come on.”
Shay walks beside me, her thin heels clicking, and it takes everything in me not to reach over for her hand. It’s my natural reaction, wanting to be closer to her.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask her once more to be sure. “Big step, meeting the parents.”
She flicks her gaze up at me, concern gleaming like a neon sign. “Are you not serious about this?”
I stop dead in my tracks, making sure her eyes are glued on mine when I say, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. It’s not that at all. I’m one hundred percent positive and one hundred percent serious. About you. About us. All of it.”
A smile gradually lifts her lips, lighting up her eyes. “Good. Me too.”
“Good.” My hand grazes her arm, and I groan that I can’t be as affectionate with her as I want to right now.
Staff members are rushing through the halls like madmen, preparing for the game, so Shay and I stay silent during our walk to the elevator so no one overhears something they shouldn’t.
“Your dad must be doing okay, given he’s here,” Shay murmurs when we get into the elevator, and I nod proudly, pressing the button to take us up.
“Yeah. Must be.” I sigh. “I’m so glad he’s here.”
Her hand slips into mine, and she squeezes gently before releasing it right as the elevator doors open. “I’m excited to meet them.”
My heart feels full, too full and overwhelming. I haven’t introduced a girl to my parents in years, not since I was in my early twenties. I’ve had girlfriends and dates, but nothing that lasted more than a couple of months and certainly nothing that was worth bringing home.
But Shay is worth everything. I would scream my feelings for her from the rooftop if I could right now. Soon enough.
The door attendee smiles at us as we approach, opening the door for us. “Hello, guys.”
“Hi,” Shay responds kindly, stepping back to let me take the lead.
Nodding and smiling, I step into the room, finding my parents and a handful of other people inside, keeping to themselves.
My mom hasn’t noticed me yet. She’s looking up at my dad with despair in her gaze, and my heart shatters. They have been the biggest lovebirds I’ve ever known. Exuberantly affectionate, loving, and touchy. But he’s standing away from her without any hint of a smile.
She grabs her phone from the table and rapidly types away, but she glances up, forcing a smile on her face that I know she doesn’t feel. “Hey, Matty!”
“Hey, Mom,” I greet her back, pulling her in for a hug that is far too short. “This is Shay.”
My mom practically launches herself at Shay, embracing her tightly. “It is so nice to meet you.”
“You too.” Shay’s eyes are wide from the unexpected affection, but she settles into it by the time my mom pulls back.
My mom glances over to my dad, an indiscernible gleam in her eye. “Rick, say hi.”
My dad’s watching the ice crew below, but he perks up, hearing my mom’s voice, and turns to face us as Shay steps back to my side.
His eyes search my mom’s first, and I can immediately tell something’s not right. It’s like there’s a veil over them, blurring reality and his mind.
“Yes, dear?” he responds, his voice sounding like him but his tone like someone I’ve never met. “What are we doing here again?”
My mom’s face falls, and panic takes over as she looks up at me and back to him as the look in his eyes starts chipping away at my heart. “For Matty’s game, remember?”
“Hi, Dad,” I address him softly, and his head slowly turns my way, his eyes lighting up a bit.
“My God,” he gasps, studying me and looking me up and down. “You are very fit, and you have a great head of hair, son.”
I chuckle. “Thanks, Dad. I got it from you.”
My mom doesn’t giggle, which surprises me because she usually is a laughter box, but I shake off the feeling that something’s off, that she isn’t telling me something for some reason.
My dad’s eyebrows scrunch together, and he steps back like I’ve offended him.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, stepping toward him, but he retracts further, his back pressing up against the counter.
“Rick, take deep breaths, okay? You’re with your family.” My mom wraps her arm around his shoulders. “You’re okay.”
He scowls at her before turning back to me, and I feel like my vision is starting to spot out, the world fading away as he says, “Son, I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m certainly not your father. Who are you?” He turns to my mom. “You look just like my wife, Sharon.”
Tears roll down my mom’s cheeks. “I am your wife. I’m Sharon.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “No, no, no, that can’t be right.” His face twists with confusion.
“Dad”—my voice breaks—“it’s Matt. I’m your son.”
He looks back at me like I’ve spoken a language he can’t understand. “You’re not my son. Now please leave. I need to rest.”
Shay’s hand finds my back, and I think it’s the only thing tethering me to reality because I’m fully prepared to run from it and never come back. My eyes burn. I feel like knives are slicing down my body and bleeding me dry.
I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I can’t exist in a world where my dad is right there, but a million miles away.
“Dad.”
“Sharon?” my dad calls out, ignoring all of us around him and looking for my mom, unaware she’s right there.
“Matt, please go. I’m so sorry. Susie, our caregiver, and I will get him home safely. I think this … was just too much.” My mom cries and gently places a hand on my chest and pushes me back.