Home Ice

Prologue

JENSEN

“Shut your phone up,” I grumble as the ringtone pierces through my early morning hangover. I don’t know who I’m talking to, since there’s a warm body behind me and another wrapped in my arms, but I don’t care.

Whoever is responsible for that noise is going on my shit list.

“It’s your phone,” the woman’s sleepy voice says from behind me. “You shut it up.”

With a groan, I push myself up, eyes bleary with tiredness, and when I see my phone, I know why. It’s six in the fucking morning. We’ve only been asleep for two hours.

The guy in front of me is sleeping through the noise, and I hurry to cancel the call. It’s offseason, and if anyone thinks they’re getting a hold of me before midday, they’re dreaming.

I collapse back against the pillows, exhausted and happy after a night of sex, but just as sleep is pulling me under again, my ringtone blasts me back awake.

“Fuck off,” I moan, hitting the red button again. I’m about to power the whole thing down when another call comes through, and this time, I pay attention to the name on the screen.

Mom.

I’m instantly awake, heart in my throat as I struggle from the sheets, climb over the man, and out of bed. I’m stark naked as I dive out of my room and into the hallway, grateful that my rookie teammate who’s been living with me has gone home for the summer so there’s no one else here.

“Hello?” I croak. “Is everyone okay?”

“Jensen, honey, I’m so sorry to call this early.” Her voice gives me a fraction of relief.

“It’s fine. Is Dad okay?”

“Yeah, he’s out gardening, why?”

I screw my eyes closed with the reminder not to get annoyed with her. It’s not like my mom could possibly know I was up until four, getting dicked down and eating pussy. Actually, it would be creepy if she did know that. “My phone was blowing up. I thought something was wrong.”

She doesn’t immediately answer, and it sets me on alert again.

Then she whispers, “I think you need to come home.” The home is a broken word as she cuts off what sounds like a sob.

I don’t have words for the way something inside me changes at that second. It’s like I go from being relaxed and satisfied to knowing that something really fucking big is about to land in my lap.

“What is it?”

“There was an accident.”

I stiffly cross to my couch and drop onto it. “Who?”

“Carly Delany.”

That name pulls me up short. It’s not immediately familiar, but then, like it’s crossing the fourteen years’ distance since I last saw her, the face of my high school girlfriend fills my mind. “Oh, shit.”

“Her mother came by last night and …” Mom has to pause to pull herself together. “That poor woman.”

“I take it Carly didn’t–”

“No.”

“That’s horrible. Is there anything we can do for her?

” I can’t imagine how it would feel to lose a child.

I was about to throw up from the thought of something happening to my parents.

The more I remember Carly, the harder it is to wrap my head around the fact that she’s gone.

I’m sad, obviously, but in a disconnected way.

“Well …” Mom tries for more words that won’t come.

“Mom?”

“I’ve been trying to call you all night.”

“I was out. I’m here now.”

“Jensen, she said … she said …”

Mom’s breathing is all wrong, and I wait for her to get out what she’s struggling with. I’m in shock over the news, but it’s been a really long time since I last saw Carly, so I’m sad for her and her family, but it isn’t having the same impact on me as it is on my mom.

Which is doubly weird since, as far as I know, Mom only met her a handful of times.

My parents are hoverers, so we spent more time at Carly’s house, where her parents were working constantly and we could spend as much time as we wanted having sex.

Losing my virginity was the experience of a lifetime, and I’ve loved sex ever since.

“Just breathe, Mom—”

“You have a son!”

Her sudden shout rings in my ear, and my entire body locks up.

It’s not that I don’t understand the words, but the way they’re being applied, to me, doesn’t make any sense.

I take a beat, then check that the phone is actually still connected and I didn’t make the last few seconds up.

“What did you say?” It’s more words than I expected to be able to get out.

“When Amelia was here, she said Carly has a son. And you’re the father.”

“Bullshit.” The word is out before I take a second to process it. “I haven’t seen her in … in …”

“Fifteen years?”

My pulse gets louder. “What are you saying?”

“She brought the birth certificate, Jensen. You’re on there. And with her gone …”

Mom doesn’t finish that sentence, no matter how long I wait.

“With her gone, what?”

“Technically, we think custody goes to you.”

“Me? I can’t have a fucking child.”

“Calm down.”

“Calm down? You’re trying to tell me I have a fucking kid that I know nothing about, my ex-girlfriend is dead, and … and …” Shit, I think I need a paper bag to breathe into. I lean forward over my knees to try and make my lungs work right.

“Amelia wants custody, but she said the lawyers will be contacting you soon, and she wanted to make sure you were aware before that happened. She wants you to tell them you don’t want him.”

“Okay.”

Mom doesn’t respond at first. “Jensen, it’s your son.”

“We don’t know that.”

“He could be.”

Just the thought of having a son makes my throat close over. I’m the furthest thing from responsible it’s possible to be. Even taking Lachie in as a rookie was a big move for me, and he’s a grown-ass adult.

A fucking child? I have no business even pretending I’d know what to do with one of those things.

“Please come home,” she begs.

“We have no proof he’s mine.”

“And if we get proof? And it turns out he is?”

Even the possibility of that has panic creeping higher. “He … he can’t be.”

“Come home, honey. Let’s get this figured out.”

I hang up and bury my face in my hands. There’s no way the kid is mine. No way. The sooner I get home and confirm it, the better.