Chapter 32
GARRETT
After my little interlude with Liam, I met up with Chris in the hotel restaurant for a drink before we planned call it a night. There, we chatted about this morning’s practice and tomorrow night’s game against Houston.
“They’re pretty solid offensively,” Chris said. “Their defense is…” He made a face.
I sipped my Coke. “Pittsburgh’s got pretty good defense, though. So as long as your blueliners can hold off the offense, you just need to score like crazy on them.”
He laughed. “Yeah, that’s kinda the plan. Plus if we can draw penalties, their penalty kill is crap.” He grinned. “I got my first ever power play goal against them, so maybe I can do it again, especially if—” Something behind me caught his eye, and his grin vanished.
Concern zipped through me, and I turned around.
Oh. Him. Fuck.
And fuck my life—he was coming right toward us.
“Hi, Kanes,” Jack Arlen said cheerfully to Chris. To me, he said, “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Garrett,” I said flatly.
“Right. Garrett.” He extended his hand, and as I shook it, he added, “Great to see you. Any chance I can chat with you both a bit?” He gestured with his phone as he took an empty chair next to us. “I’m working on a story about the dads’ trip.”
Oh, it was tempting to make a snide comment about how he apparently wasn’t giving us a choice, seeing as no one had invited him to sit down.
But I let my media-trained son take point.
With a smile that was obviously fake, Chris said, “Sure. What do you want to know?”
Jack grinned and sat up straighter, reminding me of a Golden Retriever who thought someone was about to throw a ball. Though, with that smarmy grin, maybe he was less of a Golden Retriever who wanted to chase a ball and more one who thought he’d gotten away with shitting on the bed.
“Well, the dads’ trip is an annual tradition,” the Golden Retriever in question said, “and Chris, this is your second season as a Phantom, but Garrett, this is your first trip with the Phantoms.” He glanced at Chris, then at me, his eyes narrowing just slightly. “What changed your mind?”
Beside me, Chris bristled, his media training slipping ever so slightly. “This is my first season with the Phantoms. I didn’t get called up last year until March.”
“The farm team does a dad trip, though, so—”
“I wasn’t able to go,” I said, putting on the smile I reserved for clueless upper management. “Luckily, the planets aligned in my favor this time.”
Chris relaxed minutely.
Jack’s brow furrowed as if he didn’t like that answer. “I’ve noticed you’ve been coming to home games in Pittsburgh, too.” He cut his eyes toward Chris. “How does that help your concentration? Knowing your dad is in the building watching you?”
My stomach somersaulted. It had never occurred to me that my presence might mess with Chris’s head.
Chris just gave a flippant shrug. “Doesn’t do anything for my concentration. He was watching me on TV before, so it doesn’t really make a difference.”
God, I wanted to believe that. But given everything we’d been through—hell, did it bother him that I was in the building?
“You did mention early in the season that you were nervous about your dad coming to games,” Jack said. “Apparently there was nothing to be nervous about? Especially since he’d been watching them all along?”
I was surprised I couldn’t hear Chris’s molars grinding. Possibly because blood was pounding in my ears as I debated throwing down with Jack or waiting to see if I needed to intervene before Chris dropped gloves with him.
That media training must’ve been a hell of a drug, because Chris schooled his expression to something placid, and his tone followed suit.
“I think anyone’s nervous the first time their parents see them at this level.
” He shrugged again, even more flippantly than before.
“Kind of a natural reaction when you want your parents to be proud of you, you know?”
Jack nodded. Then he turned to me and, with a completely straight face, actually asked, “And are you proud of him?”
I laughed at the stupidity of the question and the man asking it.
In a “what kind of dumbass are you?” tone, I said, “My son is playing in this League, alongside some of his idols. He’s linemates with a generational talent.
He’s racking up points left, right, and center.
” I waved a hand. “I was proud of him for getting selected by his youth teams—of course I’m proud of him now. ”
“As you should be,” Jack said. “One last question.” He pinned me with a look I couldn’t read that made my spine prickle. “As a single man living in a new city, how are you finding the dating scene in Pittsburgh?”
I stared at him for a moment, caught off-guard by the question (and the audacity), but also afraid on some level that it wasn’t just a shot in the dark. Did he know something? Or was I just paranoid?
Fortunately, that smile meant for upper management stayed in place, and I just shrugged.
“I’m still figuring out the freeways and learning to navigate around the potholes.
” With a quiet laugh, I added, “Maybe I’ll check out the dating scene once I’m not worried about my car’s suspension all the time. ”
Chris laughed, though he didn’t seem thrilled by the line of questioning either.
Jack’s laugh was as fake as my smile. “Well, thank you, gentlemen, for your time.” His smile was taut and his eyes were cold; I suspected he was disappointed he hadn’t gotten anything juicy out of us. “Enjoy the rest of the dads’ trip.”
“We will,” Chris said.
Jack shook hands with Chris and me, then left, probably in search of someone else to interrogate.
Once he was out of earshot, I nodded in the direction he’d gone. “I didn’t realize he was part of the media team.”
Chris scowled hard. “He’s technically not, but his stepdad owns the team, so we can’t get rid of him. Ugh. God help me if he sits near us on the jet. I’ll open the emergency door just to get away from him.”
“So it’s not just me?”
“No. He’s a jackass.” He rolled his shoulders and pushed out a breath, then turned to me. “Thanks for, uh, not giving him anything.”
“Of course. Did he know we were… not on good terms?”
My son’s expression turned sheepish and he avoided my gaze.
“It’s okay if he did,” I said softly. “You weren’t happy with me for a while. I don’t imagine you had much good to say about me.”
“I… I mean, it’s not like I shit-talked you, you know?” He motioned to the space Jack had occupied a moment ago. “But he asked me about it on my first dads’ trip with the farm team, and I think I tipped my hand more than I meant to.” Cringing, he added, “More than I should’ve.”
“Oh really?”
A blush bloomed in his cheeks as he nodded. “I don’t remember what I said. Honestly, I don’t. I think I was just feeling shitty that night because everyone’s dad was here but mine, and he asked me about it, and…” He waved a hand.
My stomach knotted with guilt. “I’m sorry you were in that position.”
He shrugged. “We can’t change it now. And… there was an article. One that mentioned us.”
“Oh yeah?”
Avoiding my gaze, he nodded. “Yeah. He didn’t come right out and say we were estranged, but he danced around it a bit.” Rolling his eyes, he exhaled a harsh breath. “I had fans and reporters asking me about it for months.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
He waved it away. “Everyone’s moved on from it now, I think. I feel like shit that it’s out there, but gossip doesn’t really last long in this sport, you know? Especially in the minors. And yeah, I said some crap before, but…” He met my gaze and smiled shyly. “I’m glad you’re here now.”
“Me too.” I paused. “And so we’re clear—I am proud of you. Always have been. Being at this level? It’s incredible. Don’t ever think I’m not proud.”
He smiled, dropping his gaze to the soda bottle he was turning between his fingers. “I know. And… thanks.”
I chewed my lip. “Were you nervous about me coming to your first game?”
“I mean…” He shrugged tightly, still staring at the bottle.
“It was the first time we’d seen each other.
And I was kind of freaked out because you didn’t know Jasmine was pregnant.
It was…” He looked at me through his lashes.
“It was a lot, but I wanted you to be there. And I was really happy when you said you were coming to Pittsburgh.” With an apologetic half-shrug, he timidly added, “I was just nervous.”
“That’s okay. It really is.” I smiled. “We’ve made a lot of progress. I’m not going to hold it against you if you had less than flattering things to say about me in the past. I kind of earned them.”
“Not as much as you think,” he said. “But… I’m glad we’re back to this. And I’m glad you’re on this trip.” He rolled his eyes. “Even if it means you have to put up with Jack Arlen.”
I laughed and patted his arm. “Well, you have to put up with him all the time. I just have to deal with him for a week.”
“Lucky you,” he laughed. “And, uh… sorry he was digging at you about your love life. The guy has no sense of boundaries, I swear.”
“You don’t say,” I muttered into my drink.
Fortunately, we shifted our conversation back to talking about the upcoming games, and Chris steadily relaxed.
Me? I wasn’t wound up about Jack Arlen anymore, but some all too familiar guilt settled heavily on my shoulders.
Chris was apparently happy that I was in Pittsburgh. And I was genuinely thrilled about his baby.
But I was keeping a secret from him. One that Jack had tiptoed around, and I still didn’t know if he was just hoping to find something juicy or if he knew something. Probably the former. Liam and I had been careful as hell since day one.
Well… aside from earlier this evening. When we hadn’t been able to wait another moment and we’d slipped off to the parking garage.
Ice crackled along the length of my spine. He hadn’t seen us. Had he? He hadn’t noticed us going down to the parking garage separately, then coming back up separately. Had he?
Fuck. I hoped not.