30. Maddox #2
By the time I get to the old-fashioned diner—the kind with an old jukebox and checkered tiles—I’m already panting. There are many people, though I easily spot Killian and his dad in the furthest booth by an isolated corner.
My heart sinks when I see that Killian’s barely touched his food. He’s facing away from me, though I can see he’s hanging his head low as if defeated. Killian drums his fingers on the table, nodding along to whatever his dad is saying .
I can’t hear them from where I’m standing by the door, but his dad’s tight expression as he speaks creeps me out. He stops talking for a second and picks up a fry, popping it into his mouth while giving Killian a hard stare. Then he gets right back to talking, and Killian’s hand balls into a fist.
Mustering up all the courage in me, I approach them. I stop about a foot away, hoping that they spot me before I have to speak up. Unfortunately, Killian’s still facing away, and I don’t think his dad knows who I am.
I stand there like I’m lost, and the first words I hear from his dad make me wish I had gotten here so much fucking sooner.
“Why turn down Donlan, Killian?” his dad asks, voice calm and cold in a way that makes it sound so much worse. “I don’t understand why you, on a whim, suddenly want to coach teenagers. Your tendency to act without thinking things through astonishes me.”
When Killian turns his head to stare out the window, his dad’s jaw ticks.
“Killian!” he hisses. “I’m talking to you.”
Killian says weakly, “Jeez, Dad. Relax. I told you already that I turned them down because I want to coach.”
“I can’t understand your decision! Pro hockey is what you’ve been working for all this time, and you suddenly change your mind?
This is not an opportunity that will come back again.
Think about what you’re doing for once in your life.
This is just like when you said you wanted to play juniors, then quit after only a year. ”
It’s at that moment that Killian’s dad finally notices me standing there, and his eyebrows shoot up.
I stiffen my posture and square my shoulders, though I’d probably look a lot more intimidating if it didn’t look as if I were about to pass out from exhaustion.
If anything, I want to keel over to catch my breath.
How Killian’s able to skate for hours a week without dying is beyond me. Jocks are something else.
His dad narrows his eyes at me. “Are you joining us?”
Well, okay. I was wrong, then. He does, in fact, know who I am .
“Who the heck are you talking to…?” Killian follows his dad’s stare and looks over his shoulder. At me.
The moment he sees me, his jaw drops.
“Hi, Mr. Schultz,” I mumble. Saying Killian’s surname is still a foreign concept to me, considering I refused to ever call him by his jock name. “I’m Maddox.”
“I know who you are. Please call me Warren. Have a seat, Maddox.”
Slowly, Killian moves over, and I plop down in the booth beside him.
I haven’t seen him in what feels like forever, and I wish it didn’t have to be like this. I reach for his hand under the table, warmth enveloping me when he shakingly intertwines our fingers.
Warren’s voice is cold when he says, “My son here was telling me of his very sudden and thoughtless decision to turn down a sports agent who could get him into the AHL.”
It wasn’t sudden and thoughtless, I want to say. I hold myself back, though. Even if I told Killian I’d be here when they had this talk, I’m not sure it’s my place to actually say anything. My idea was to be here as his supportive boyfriend—encouraging him to speak up with just my presence.
But Killian’s not speaking. He’s only sitting here with his lips pressed tightly together. Even when I squeeze his hand, he doesn’t say anything.
Warren lets out a loud groan and presses his fingers against his eyes. “I actually thought you were going to grow up by now, Killian. This is beyond idiotic. When your mother finds out you’re throwing away your future…”
This is ridiculous. While I know he’s hard on Killian, seeing it firsthand is an entirely different experience.
And the way Killian’s letting him talk to him…? How he’s sitting here and taking it? This is not the Killian I know.
Fuck holding back. I yell, “Stop talking to him like that! ”
The diner’s noisy enough that nobody else hears my outburst, which is a good thing. Judging from the way Warren’s mouth twists, he heard me perfectly, though. Both he and Killian stare at me.
“I’ll speak to my son any way I want,” Warren says, schooling his voice despite the obvious rage in his eyes.
“You shouldn’t.” My voice is surprisingly steady, and I somehow forget how tired I am because, suddenly, I feel more energized than I ever have in my life. “The way you speak to him is absurd.”
“Maddox,” Killian murmurs.
“What makes you think it’s appropriate to speak to anyone that way, let alone your own son?
” God, my heart is thudding in my ears. I can be an opinionated fuck, but I’ve never spoken to anyone’s parent this way before.
In the back of my disintegrating thoughts, I realize that I’m not making the greatest first impression with my boyfriend’s dad.
But whatever. “You’re a bully to your own son is what you are. ”
A tense moment passes.
Warren narrows his eyes. “I am simply disappointed that he is, again, making rash decisions and quitting something that he said he wanted.”
“Him wanting to coach is not a rash decision. He’s been volunteering with the club at the rink all semester, and he hasn’t wanted to go pro since the first time I asked him about it.”
“Is that right, Killian?” he asks, voice low.
Killian blinks. I can’t stand how he’s still so pale, and how he’s the most quiet he’s ever been since I met him.
But just when I think he’s going to continue being silent and let his dad talk over him, Killian murmurs, “Yes. Sorry, Dad. I just didn’t know how to tell you.
I was working myself up to it, but, um… Maddox is right. I don’t want to go pro.”
“You had every opportunity to tell me this.” He scrubs a hand over his face.
“I put off having a proper conversation about it because I was scared of what you’d say,” Killian mumbles, and my heart aches even more.
“Every time we talked about it, you pushed for me to go pro. Even when I tried to tell you, you’d shoot me down, so…
I always ended up agreeing. And that was wrong, I’m sorry.
And back when I quit juniors after a year, you were really disappointed, so…
I didn’t want to disappoint you again especially since I didn’t have any other plan.
But… yeah. Dad, I do have a plan now. I want to coach. ”
Warren grimaces. “Is this supposed to be funny? What do you know about coaching?”
Killian’s shoulders droop and his face becomes even paler.
“He’s going to be an excellent coach,” I interrupt.
The conviction in my words is loud, even to me.
I’m sure of it. If Killian can’t speak up for himself, then I’ll do it for him.
“He’s observant, an excellent communicator, and the players adore him.
He helps them love the sport like he does.
Most of all, that’s what he wants to do, and that’s what matters. ”
Warren’s quiet, his mouth pressed tightly together as he fixes a stare at Killian.
The silence is killing me. I let go of Killian’s hand to wipe my sweaty palm against my thigh, and I’m not even done when he grabs my hand once more.
I’m not sure what’s going on in his head, but Warren takes a moment to stare out the window with narrowed eyes.
“I suppose you are good with kids, at least with your brothers’,” Warren mumbles, voice low.
Maybe I wasn’t entirely right when he says his dad knows nothing about him, because he apparently knows that much.
“And I do suppose you’re good at watching people.
It’s what makes you a good defenseman. You’re quick on your feet and you know how your opponents are going to act even before they do.
That’s exactly why it’ll be a waste to give up playing hockey, Killian. ”
I press my lips together.
I’ve said my piece, and I hope Killian speaks up now.
Please, I say in my mind. I really, really need him to stand up to his father. He needs to do this .
Killian gives me a desperate look, his brows crunched together. He swallows, his throat bobbing. There’s a question in his eyes that I can’t place exactly, but I give him a nod anyway, urging him on.
And maybe that’s the final push he needed, because Killian lets out a breath and turns to his dad.
“I’m not giving hockey up, just… going another path,” Killian says softly. “I don’t want to play pro, Dad. I don’t want to be on the road all the time. What I want is to stay in one city, doing something I actually enjoy.”
Warren spares our hands a glance before looking up at Killian once more. “And that’s coaching?”
“Yes... it’s only for a summer position now, but if it goes well, they’ll offer me a more permanent job. I know it doesn’t pay as much as the AHL, but Maddox is right. It’s what I want to do.”
His dad lets out another long sigh.
I look between them, rubbing my thumb against Killian’s palm.
He’s stopped shaking, at least, and his grip around mine is firmer now.
They both don’t speak, only staring each other down, and I glance around the diner to see if anyone even cares about this stand-off between father and son.
Everyone else seems to be in their own little world, despite what, to me, is an incredibly momentous moment.
Every second that passes makes my skin crawl.
Warren continues to study him, an intensity in his eyes that matches the one that Killian usually wears.
It bothers me that they look alike, though there is some relief in knowing that’s where their similarities end.
Killian is warmth personified, nothing like the coldness that his father emits. That much I can tell.
“Dad,” Killian says. “I’m an adult, and I don’t need your permission for this, but it would mean a lot to me if you at least accepted that this is what I want.”
God, I’d do anything to wrap Killian in my arms right now. Like I’ve said before, Killian himself is the only one who has a say in his own future. But… in a way, I get it. Their relationship is complex. As horrible as his dad treats him, Killian will always be the little boy seeking his approval.
After what seems like an eternity, Warren nods. It’s stiff and barely noticeable, but my heart jumps nonetheless.
“Okay,” he says, almost too low to be heard over the noise of the diner. “If this is what you want to do, then okay. Okay. ”
“Really?” Killian asks, disbelief in his voice. His hold on my hand falters, and I squeeze him tighter, reminding him to come back to his element. I keep my mouth shut and watch them closely, fighting the powerful urge to interrupt—I can’t. I shouldn’t.
“Yes. In the end, it is your life and there’s only so much I can do.
” Warren sounds exasperated and tired. “Killian. I know I can be hard on you, but that’s only because you frighten me.
Your lack of impulse control keeps me on edge all the time.
I never know what you’re going to do next. Remember when you fell out of a tree?”
“I was nine,” he grumbles.
“Okay, well, last year I got a call from the hospital because you got drunk and jumped out of a second-floor window.”
I give Killian an alarmed look, and he laughs awkwardly. So Rhys wasn’t exaggerating when he said that?
Still, though. Even if Killian can be impulsive at times, it’s still his life. Warren has no business controlling it for him. With that thought, I meet Warren’s eyes, giving him a very intent glare. I don’t speak. I don’t need to. Killian’s already said everything that needs to be said.
Warren’s jaw ticks as he returns my glare. Then, very slowly, he turns to his son.
“But… anyway. All right. I get it. Point taken,” Warren mumbles.
“This is your life. I still don’t agree with this because I think it’s a waste.
Not everyone has the option to go pro… but if this is what you want, fine.
Just make sure you put actual effort into it, and I hope you don’t change your mind in a week. ”
“Yes,” Killian says. I don’t think he has any other words left in him .
I add, my voice coming out a lot more confident than I feel, “And stop talking down to him.”
Eyebrows lifting, Warren gives me a look. I’m not sure I’m getting through to him, but I don’t care. I’ll remind him again and again, until the end of time, that he can’t speak to Killian that way. This isn’t the last time he’s going to hear it from me, so he might as well get used to it.
“Thanks, Dad,” Killian says.
Warren makes a disgruntled sound, shrugging a shoulder.
For what it’s worth, despite how strangely and toxically he communicates with Killian, I think his father cares. He just needs to learn how to express himself in a kinder way.
“I’ll see you back home in a few weeks,” his dad says. He looks at me, face unmoving. “You’re welcome to come as well, Maddox.”
“T-thanks,” I say, not exactly expecting that.
Killian grins wide and nods. “We’re going to get going, if that’s cool with you.”
His dad waves us off. His eyes are unfocused and some of the coldness slips away. I have little time to study this slight change in demeanor, though, because Killian tugs my hand. “Let’s go, Maddox.”
“Really good to meet you, sir,” I tell his dad, giving him a dry smile. Killian quietly snorts but doesn’t look back.