25. Berkley
Mitch Smitch
In a few short weeks, my law school graduation would serve as the culmination of my academic career. Everything I’d worked so hard to achieve over the last seven years was a diploma—and passing the Bar—away. Some days, I questioned whether this was the time to be in a serious relationship, especially with someone like Brent. Now that I was on the cusp of finally starting my own career, of becoming who I was meant to be, how much sense did it really make to be with someone who would always take the top spot in our relationship? I’d never imagined or wanted a life lived in the public eye. All I wanted was to help people, no public notoriety or recognition necessary, and Brent’s career and lifestyle was at odds with that.
But I loved him, and that kept me rooted in place. To walk away now would be to lose some intrinsic piece of myself, and I knew I wouldn’t survive it. I simply had to trust that, together, we could face anything and come out okay on the other side.
I smoothed my palms along the thighs of my jeans as I surveyed myself in the bedroom mirror. Maybe I was just having these thoughts because I was terrified of meeting his entire family tonight, who had come into town for game one of the playoffs.
With a deep breath that did nothing to steel my nerves, I headed downstairs to meet Lexie.
“Did someone go shopping in the big-kid section again?” she asked when she caught sight of my outfit. The jersey Brent had given me on Valentine’s Day hung to my knees, though I’d tucked in one side to hopefully lessen the impression that I was drowning in it. His number was on the chain around my neck and on my back. This jersey was armor for me. I felt most comfortable like this—safe, even—like I was wrapped in Brent’s arms.
“No,” I said, flipping her off. “Brent gave it to me. It’s game-worn.”
Lexie raised her eyebrows, then stepped closer and sniffed. “Really? Are you sure? It doesn’t smell like sweaty hockey equipment.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. He said he had it dry-cleaned.”
“Fair enough,” Lexie said. “Are you ready? We still have to walk to the People Mover.”
“Almost.”
In response to Lexie’s quizzical gaze, I walked into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of tequila from the freezer, holding it up to her. “Want one?”
Lexie laughed. “Have you met me?”
I chuckled with her. I had met her, and Lexie Monroe never said no to tequila.
I poured the shots and held mine up for a toast. “To surviving meeting the parents.”
“Here, here,” Lexie said, and we downed the alcohol.
“What do you think they’re going to be like?” I asked Lexie as we rode the elevator up to suite level at the arena, where Brent’s family awaited my arrival.
“His mother is probably going to hate you. You know, since you’re such a terrible person. And his dad is probably mean. But hey, at least Nate and Kenzie like you!”
I narrowed my eyes at my best friend. “You’re not helping. Plus I haven’t technically even met Kenzie.”
We’d FaceTimed a lot, though, mostly because she was shocked her big brother was in such a serious relationship, and she wanted to see me with her own eyes. After that…I’d taken a liking to the girl. She reminded me a lot of my little sister, and I secretly couldn’t wait for the day when those two met. I knew they’d be fast friends.
“Because you’re being insane!” Lexie exclaimed, turning me to face her and resting her hands on my shoulders. “You’re amazing, and there’s absolutely no reason why they won’t see that and adore you just like Brent does.”
“Well…I hope not quite like Brent,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively.
Lexie groaned. “You’re gross.”
“You love me.”
Lexie reached down and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “I really do,” she told me. “And Brent’s family will, too.”
My answering smile was watery. I couldn’t imagine having anyone but her at my side as I met Brent’s parents for the first time.
With a deep breath, I pushed open the door to the suite. Immediately, as though she’d been watching for me, I was enveloped in a crushing hug and a cloud of vanilla mixed with Chanel No. 5.
“Oh, Berkley!” the woman all but yelled in my ear. “It’s so great to finally meet you!”
She pulled away at last, allowing me to get a good look at her. Sandra Jean was only a few inches taller than me, with heavy, dark hair and soft, delicate features. Her eyes were precisely the same shade of blue as Brent’s, including that small dot of brown near the pupil of the right one.
“Hi, Mrs. Jean,” I said, giving her what I hoped was a warm smile. “It’s great to finally meet you, as well.”
“Sorry if I startled you,” she said sheepishly. “And please, call me Sandra.”
“No, you didn’t startle me. Just nervous about tonight.”
“I hope about the game and not about meeting us,” Sandra said, clasping my hand in hers. Her gaze fixed over my shoulder a moment before she said, “Who’s your friend?”
Lexie stepped forward, hand outstretched. “I’m Berkley’s best friend, Lexie,” she said.
Sandra waved the hand away and pulled Lexie in for a hug. The height difference between them was comical, and I barely bit back a snort. “Any friend of Brent and Berkley’s is a friend of mine.”
“I’m also kind of dating Mitch,” Lexie blurted, and I turned to her in surprise.
That was the first time she’d ever said as much out loud. I was worried I’d have to content myself with her brushing off questions of their relationship status for the rest of my life.
“Our Mitch?” Sandra asked, dark brows raised on her forehead in shock.
“Uhh…yes? Mitch Frambough,” Lexie clarified.
Sandra studied Lexie with renewed interest. “Well, then you’re practically family, too.”
Lexie grinned, wider than I’d seen in a long time, and my own smile unfurled along with it.
“Berkley!” someone yelled from behind me, and I spun in time to catch a young brunette girl in a hug.
“It’s so good to finally meet you,” Brent’s little sister, Mackenzie, gushed when she pulled away.
“You, too!” I wrapped my arm around Kenzie’s waist. “How’s school?”
“School is school,” Kenzie said with an eye roll, and I laughed. I’d often experienced that same emotion where my education was concerned, but I couldn’t imagine doing anything else with my life.
“You’ll be done before you know it,” I told her.
“I hope you’re right. But come on. My dad is dying to meet you,” she said, tugging on my arm. I shot Lexie an apologetic glance over my shoulder, but she winked, assuring me she was just fine chatting with Sandra.
We’d only taken a few steps when a man detached himself from conversation, meeting me halfway with a proffered hand. “Ron Jean,” he said. “We’ve heard so many wonderful things about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“You as well,” I said. I couldn’t help studying him a little closer. I’d seen enough pictures of the man to know Brent strongly favored his father, but seeing him in person was a bit disconcerting. There was the familiar straight nose, strong jaw, and slightly crooked smile. The same thick dark hair that waved across his skull, though Ron’s had started to grey at the temples. The same shaped eyes fringed with criminally long lashes.
Ron Jean was Brent in about twenty-five years, and…damn. I was a lucky woman.
The last of the Jean clan joined our group, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
I wasn’t surprised by Nate’s demeanor. Brent had told me his brother was a bit on the spectrum in that he deeply valued his personal space, and unwanted physical touch of any kind had the ability to send him into a tailspin.
“Great to see you, Berk,” Nate said, his grin reminding me exactly what he’d witnessed between me and his brother the morning he’d shown up unannounced—and how I’d answered the door without pants on.
Thankfully, Brent’s shirts were basically dresses on my five-foot-two-inch frame.
“You must be Berkley,” the tall, handsome, dark-haired man in navy scrubs said when I swung the door open.
“I am…” I said slowly. “Who are you?”
He pushed past me into the entry of Brent’s apartment before turning to face me, gesturing to himself. “You can’t tell?”
I allowed my eyes to rake up and down his body, not in any lecherous way, but genuinely studying him.
As already noted, he was tall, about as tall as Brent, with the same deep-brown hair. He was thinner than Brent, though. Maybe thinner wasn’t the right word. More like…leaner. As if someone had taken Brent and skimmed him down a bit. This man wasn’t as broad shouldered, but he was muscular in a way that told me he exercised regularly.
It wasn’t until I met his eyes that I realized the comparisons I’d drawn between him and Brent weren’t simply surface level, and I hadn’t jumped there because Brent was the benchmark against which I’d forever stack all men up against.
“You’re his brother.”
“Nathaniel Jean, at your service.” He bent at the waist and sketched a small, sarcastic bow. Once upright again, he said, “You can call me Nate. Pleasure to finally meet you.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Came to do a wellness check on my brother at my parents’ request.”
“Wellness check?” I repeated dumbly. “He’s fine. Currently at the rink.”
“I can see that,” Nate said, eyes flicking to my bare legs, then back into the apartment. “Can I have a cup of coffee? I just got off a twelve, and I’m spent.”
“Oh, sure!” I moved into the kitchen, Nate’s shuffling footsteps following along. I poured him a mug and passed it to him. “Cream? Sugar?”
“Nah, I’m good with black,” he said, sliding onto a barstool at the island.
“Great,” I said awkwardly. “Well, I’m going to go put some pants on.”
Nate smirked. “You do that.”
My cheeks heated as I turned away from him, and his chuckle followed me all the way down the hall.
I was pulled from the memory when Lexie and Sandra sidled up beside us, and I introduced my best friend to the group. I didn’t miss the way Nate’s eyes raked Lexie’s body, nor did I miss the knowing smirk she gave him when his gaze finally landed on her face.
Lexie shook hands with Brent’s dad, gave a surprised Kenzie a side-armed hug, and continued to level Nate with her I will eat you alive smile. If Mitch hadn’t been in the picture, I knew it wouldn’t take long for those two to end up in bed together. I fought off a full body shiver at the thought.
My best friend and my boyfriend’s brother? That sounded like the makings of a dramatic romance novel.
Then again, my best friend and my boyfriend’s best friend/teammate wasn’t too far off that mark as it was.
“How’s law school going?” Kenzie asked me, and I could see Ron’s interest piqued.
“Great! I’m in the home stretch now. I’ll take my final exams next week, graduate the week after, and take the Bar in July.”
“Ahh, I remember those days,” Ron said fondly. “Don’t miss the paperwork, though.”
“Ron practiced for about twenty-five years,” Sandra told me. “He was primarily a contract attorney.”
Brent had told me his dad was an attorney, but not what kind of law Ron had practiced. Turned out, it was exactly my own bread and butter.
“I’d love to talk shop with you one day,” I said. “I’m actually hoping to become an agent eventually. Contracts are kind of my jam.”
Ron nodded. “I would love that. I wanted Brent to be a lawyer, but his dream was always hockey.”
“He does have two degrees, though,” Sandra said. “One in business and one in finance.”
“I knew that,” I said, remembering our overnight date in Frankenmuth. “He told me his dad wanted him to have a backup plan if hockey didn’t work out.”
“Smart man, his father.” Sandra wrapped her arm around her husband’s waist and grinned up at him. Ron bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
They were so sweet it made my stomach hurt, and I hoped that was me and Brent one day.
“But aren’t we so lucky hockey did work out?” Ron boomed, pulling away from his wife to sweep his arms toward the view of the ice. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this.”
I took stock of the suite, though I’d been here before. On normal game days, it was relatively empty with a spartan food and drink spread. Today, the bar was fully loaded with beer and wine in the refrigerator and stocked with all kinds of liquor. The counters were laden with trays of mini sandwiches, meats, cheeses, fruits, vegetables, chips, and crackers.
My gaze landed on a bottle of liquor, and I said to Sandra, “Do you mind if I have a drink?”
“No, of course not, honey,” Sandra said, patting me on the arm. “You look like you could use one.”
As I made a beeline for the bar, I tapped Lexie on the shoulder, and she followed me over.
“So, that was…” Lexie glanced over her shoulder at the Jean family, searching for the words. “Surprisingly not awkward.”
“I know, right? I didn’t expect such open acceptance,” I said, pouring a healthy serving of Jack Daniels into a glass. I splashed in some Coke and drained it in two gulps, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand before refilling it with a more socially acceptable Jack-to-Coke ratio.
“His brother sure is pretty,” Lexie whispered, throwing an appreciative look Nate’s way. Nate stared at us over the rim of his glass, and gave us a finger little wave before turning to speak to his father.
“He’s in surgical residency,” I said, wiggling my brows. “But you better not let Mitch hear you say that. The man may be a giant teddy bear, but I guarantee he’s got a jealous streak.”
“Mitch Smitch,” Lexie said, though the smile that unfurled on her lips belied her blasé comment.
“He’s crazy about you, you know.”
Lexie swallowed hard and nodded. “The feeling is mutual.”
I knew from years of experience that those four words were all Lexie would offer on the subject. For now, it was enough.
The noise from the crowd rose as the Warriors skated onto the ice. The buzzer sounded, and the teams lined up, ready for pregame announcements and the National Anthem. But the commotion outside wasn’t what pulled my attention away from Lexie.
No, my sole focus was on the very familiar blonde woman pushing through the door of the suite, a tall, sandy-haired man behind her, followed by a girl in her late-teens and a man a few years older than me.
My family.