Chapter 23
GARRETT
Guilt had been a constant companion for the past few years, but holy shit, it dug its claws in on Christmas Eve.
I was in my son’s townhouse with three of my four kids, plus two of their partners.
I’d choked up during dinner when Chris had suggested we revisit the tradition of watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas like we always had when they were kids.
Before putting on the movie, we’d exchanged gifts.
I’d once again teared up because Chris gave me a Pittsburgh Phantoms jersey with his number, but instead of Kane across the shoulders, it read DAD.
Everything was perfect. It was all so much more than I thought I’d ever have again just a few short years ago. It was both normal and novel; a warm return to a familiar world I thought I’d never be allowed to revisit.
But guilt was there like a silent, invisible ghost.
Before dinner, the kids had FaceTimed with their sister.
I’d stepped out of the room to give them space, but her voice had carried into the kitchen anyway, hitting me in all those familiar tender spots.
I wanted to stay hopeful that we could reconcile eventually.
I’d made it back into my other three kids’ lives.
For a long time, I’d thought things were hopeless with Chris, but here I was.
There had to still be some hope of making up with Ally, right?
And if there isn’t, you have no one to blame but yourself.
Fuck. So much guilt.
As the kids chatted in the other room, I vowed to find some way to bridge that divide and reconnect with her in the new year.
Except I couldn’t reach out to her—she’d set that boundary when she’d gone no-contact.
Most likely, as hard as it was, all I could do was wait for her to break the standoff and reach out to me.
I couldn’t think of any other approach that wouldn’t push her farther away.
Whatever the solution, I wouldn’t figure it out tonight. Tonight was for celebrating with the kids I had reconnected with.
Fresh guilt set in after dinner while we hung out in the living room watching the Grinch, but it wasn’t because of Ally.
It was because of my phone, which was facedown on the end table beside me.
It was because of the itch I had to pick up the phone and send a text.
It was because part of me secretly and shamefully wished the holidays would hurry up and end so I could be in the same space as Liam again.
Fuck. I didn’t want to be away from my kids. I didn’t want Nick and Katie to leave town.
But God help me, I also missed that man.
Our constant text conversations, regular FaceTime calls, and painfully sparse visits had been keeping my head above water for the better part of December…
as did that brief blank space coming up in the Phantoms’ calendar.
They had three away games right after Christmas, then after the New Year, three straight days at home with no games or travel at all.
Practices, sure, but he’d be here. In Pittsburgh. With free evenings.
The thought made me damn near salivate… which made the guilt burrow deeper into my aching chest. Wishing for that three-day stretch to get here meant wishing for this visit to be over. I needed to enjoy my time with my kids, not count down the hours until I was with Liam.
As the movie wound toward its long-memorized climactic scene, I finally grabbed my phone off the end table and wrote out a quick text.
Merry Christmas. Hope you’re having a great holiday!
To my surprise, he replied quickly.
Same to you. It’s good here. How are things with you?
It’s been a blast. Good to spend some time with my kids.
Glad you’re having a good time. It’s been awesome having my parents here.
I bet. Some downtime for once!
My fingers tingled with the impulse to add “I miss you” and “I can’t wait to see you again.
” That all felt like too much. And it felt irrationally like an incantation; like if I said those words or typed them and put them out there into the universe, my kids would remember all our bullshit and kick me out.
Then Liam responded.
NGL, I wish I could spend some of this downtime with you.
My throat tightened around my breath. Fucking hell.
Me too. We’ll have some time after you get back from Miami, though, right?
You better believe it.
I exhaled. Glanced at my kids, who were laughing as they watched that childhood classic on Chris’s huge flat-screen. Lowered my gaze to my phone.
Fuck it.
Want to FaceTime later?
The response was almost instantaneous.
YES.
I huffed a relieved laugh, which my kids fortunately didn’t notice.
Text you around 10?
I’ll be here.
It was closer to 11:00 when I got home. The kids had wanted to watch the live-action Grinch movie next, and then we’d all gotten carried away, laughing and talking until way too late.
It was perfect, and I loved every minute.
As soon as I left, though, I couldn’t get home fast enough.
I texted Liam from Chris’s parking lot, letting him know I’d be home in twenty.
Then I spent the whole drive home listening for the ping of a response, my heart pounding and my stomach sinking with every mile that passed without one.
By the time I pulled into my apartment’s garage, my phone was still quiet.
Damn. I’d missed him, hadn’t I? He’d gone to bed already. They didn’t have practice tomorrow for once, but he was probably indulging in the chance to sleep for—
Ping.
I almost dropped my damn phone. After fumbling it, I finally got it upright and looked at the screen.
Liam
Just got free myself. Ready whenever you are.
Closing my eyes, I exhaled a relieved cloud into the cold night. It wasn’t a big deal. Really, it wasn’t. If we missed each other tonight, we’d just reconnect later. It happened.
But we hadn’t missed each other, and suddenly I couldn’t get into my apartment fast enough.
Less than two minutes after I’d parked, I was sitting against my headboard with the FaceTime request sent to Liam.
And less than ten seconds after I sent it, he accepted.
Oh, God. Like me, he was leaning against his headboard. He looked exhausted, as if it had been a long, busy day, but he also seemed happy. His tired smile was soft and adorable, and his heavy-lidded eyes made my heart flutter.
“Hey,” he said with a faint slur. “Sorry it took me so long to reply.”
I shook my head. “Sorry I was running late.”
He half-shrugged, the smile still firmly in place. “You’re with your family for the holidays. I’m not going to rush you away from them.”
“Likewise.”
He moistened his lips. “I, uh, can’t promise anything spicy right now. I’m tired as hell, and I may have had a little of my mom’s eggnog.”
I barked a laugh. “She makes it strong?”
“Oh my God.” He laughed, letting his head fall back. “I don’t think you’re supposed to put that much whiskey in it, but man, it tastes good.”
“Oh, she does it with whiskey? Not rum?”
He nodded. “Yep. She basically makes it a Seven and Seven with eggnog. Seagrams Seven and 7-Up. So the eggnog isn’t quite so rich, which means it’s easy to drink a lot of it in not a lot of time.” Laughing again, he made a face. “I’m going to be paying for this in the morning.”
“I bet you are. Worth it?”
“Totally worth it. It’s not Christmas Eve without getting fucked up with my family while we play board games.”
“Ah, that’s your Christmas tradition?”
He nodded, a fond smile on his lips. “We start the games and the drinking around the same time, and by the end of the night, everyone’s shitfaced and laughing our heads off.” Liam chuckled. “There is nothing funnier than my mom getting the drunk giggles while she destroys us all at Monopoly.”
“Oh, wow,” I laughed. “That must be a sight.”
“It is. It always is. One year, we all got super fucked up and then tried to play Risk.”
I snorted. “Really? I can’t even figure that one out sober.”
“Exactly! That was the fun part. We were all so drunk, we just started making up rules and trash-talking. I have no idea if anyone actually won, but it was one of the most fun game nights I ever had.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“It always is.” Liam cocked an eyebrow. “I assume you like to stay sober so you can crush people at Uno?”
“What?” I put a hand to my chest. “Me?”
“Uh-huh. That innocent look doesn’t work on me.”
I laughed again. “Ugh. I can’t believe Chris tipped my hand about my Uno prowess. He should’ve let you all find out for yourselves.”
“Oh God. Something tells me it’s a good thing he warned us.” Liam paused. “Maybe we should break out an Uno deck on the dads’ trip.”
My heart sped up at the reminder of that upcoming trip. “Ooh, I’m game. You think you can handle me?”
He shrugged with mock innocence. “You think you can handle me not putting out afterward because I’m still mad about losing?”
I guffawed. “You would really pass on putting your dick in my ass just because I beat you at Uno? Really?”
He quirked his lips, but he wasn’t doing much to hide the smile trying to come to life. “Okay. You got me.” Narrowing his eyes, he added, “But I could make you work for it a bit more.”
I inclined my head. “Is that supposed to deter me from beating you at Uno? Or encourage me to wipe the floor with you?”
The heat in his eyes made me pulse soar. He licked his lips. “Well, damn. Now I can’t decide.”
I shrugged, pretending my dick wasn’t getting hard. “Sounds like we both win either way. I mean, you’ll still lose at Uno, but—”
“You’re awfully confident you’ll beat me.”
“You’re awfully confident I won’t.” I shifted a little to accommodate my hard-on. His devilish little smirk wasn’t helping at all.
“Won’t know until we try,” he said with that smirk still firmly in place. “So…dads’ trip?”
“You’re on.” Why was I out of breath?
He grinned. “Not sure if I’m gonna be able to concentrate on Uno or hockey with you along on that trip.” He shifted the same way I had a moment ago, and from the way his shoulder moved, he was adjusting himself outside the frame. “I’m going to be distracted as hell.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
He quirked his lips again and shook his head. “Nah. I’m always up for a challenge.”
I laughed. “Well, I’m happy to help keep things interesting for you.”
“You always do.” His little grin somehow managed to be both wicked and sweet, and it was doing absolutely nothing to help me pull myself together.
“So do you,” was all I could say.
He laughed softly. Then he glanced off-camera and sighed. “I should get some sleep. Kids will be up early to open presents.”
That gave me a pang of sad nostalgia, remembering all those years of getting up stupid early on Christmas morning to watch my kids tear open their gifts. “Sounds like fun. It was nice to talk for a few, though.”
“It was. Do you, uh…” He bit his lip. “Do you want to chat again tomorrow? After all the festivities are over?”
“Definitely,” I whispered. “I’m looking forward to it.”
His smile warmed me all over. “Me too. Good night, Garrett.”
Good night. And Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
We ended the call a moment later, and I closed my eyes as I sat there in my silent bedroom.
I was still turned on, still uncomfortably hard, but not as frustrated as I thought I’d be after our conversation hadn’t turned into getting ourselves off on-camera.
I was admittedly still kind of shy about doing that—though another of those long road trips and I’d probably shake off that shyness in a hurry—but tonight, I’d just wanted to see him.
Even if we couldn’t be in the same space, even if we couldn’t have sex, I wanted to hear his voice.
I wanted to share some of that banter with him.
We’d get into bed together again soon enough. I could wait, even if it was a challenge.
But getting to chat with him, even for a few minutes…
That was everything I needed tonight.