Chapter 6
Silas
Oakley Kate—Katibug, Kate…My Kates—looks so worn down.
The bags under her eyes are more prominent than ever, and while the sass I fell in love with all those years ago is still there, it’s watered down to a pathetic version of her usual spitfire personality.
The blonde wavy hair that is so much like my sister’s is duller than normal, the purple tips faded.
When’s the last time she took some time for herself?
It’s not believable that the brace and crutches are entirely to blame.
It may have been five years since our engagement ended, but I’d like to think I still have a pretty strong grasp on how she operates.
That feeling in my gut—instinct or whatever—is usually accurate.
And right now, it’s telling me I have every right to be nervous about whatever is going on with Oakley Kate.
I hate myself a little more for not staying in touch with her as much as we did before I took Aubrey on.
I’ll admit to not initiating communication as much, unless it was for her and Aubrey to video call.
And with her job, she is always in the air or out of cell reception.
Then throw in ten months of hockey, and there goes any free time.
But she’s here. In Steele Valley. For several days now, and never once did she reached out to let me know.
Those few minutes of her in my arms mean everything to me. It felt like I could take a full breath for the first time since my life went sideways. I wanted more. I always want more where she’s concerned, but I could feel her walls snap back into place as soon as Mrs. Slater suggested lunch.
She still doesn’t want me, and that’s okay. Friendship is all I’ll allow myself to hope for with Oakley Kate Slater.
When I step through the front door of the house I once thought Oakley Kate and I would turn into a home, the silence hits first. Wood floors, high ceilings, and too much space for only two people—it all feels heavier today.
Usually, I’d be on the ice or at the rink with the team.
But since I’m benched until Monday, I’m stuck here. Alone. With only my thoughts.
Yeah, because that’s always a good idea. Leave the brokenhearted worrier alone for a weekend.
Refusing to feel sorry for myself, I settle on the family room couch and power up my gaming console. The giddy, childlike feeling that flows through me when I see Noah’s handle online should probably be embarrassing for a thirty-something man to admit.
Noah Slater is one of my oldest friends…and Oakley’s oldest brother. By some miracle, he never had any issues with me dating his little sister. He even encouraged me to propose.
We never told him why it ended.
How the fear of another miscarriage became too much for Oakley to handle. How I let my dreams of raising a family overshadow her pain without realizing it.
How she walked out of our little apartment and never looked back.
Yeah, some things don’t need to be shared with your ex’s brother, no matter how close the two of you are.
An invite pops onto the screen before I can send one of my own. Accepting it and joining his party, I hear his grumpy voice through the headset.
“Hey, bud. What’s new? Shouldn’t you be with the team prepping for next week’s kickoff or something?”
“Dude, don't disrespect the greatest sport by comparing it to football," I grunt. "Thorn pulled the coach card and forced me to take a break this weekend.”
“Good for him.” He chuckles. “What happened to make him stick it to you?”
“Nothing, man. Rolled my ankle at practice, but he’s worried old age is catching up.”
I try to brush it off as a joke, but the dude’s too insightful to fall for it. Always has been.
“This doesn’t have anything to do with Aubrey, does it?”
I can’t hold back the short laugh that slips out even as my anxiety builds. “Not sure how he thinks a sleepover or girls’ weekend or whatever is supposed to help me relax. I just sat awake last night because I couldn’t walk across the hall and check on her.”
Hell, most of the time she finds her way to my bed by midnight.
“Jett and I can drive up if it’d make next week go smoother for you?”
“I appreciate it, but I’ve got it handled,” I say, even though we both know that’s a lie.
The silence on the line stretches long enough to make my skin itch.
“Si, man. Are you okay?” I can picture the questioning eyebrow lift he’s probably giving the screen right now. “Don’t bullshit with me. Do we need to drive up and give you some help this week so you can focus on skating fast and scoring?”
I stay silent for a minute, trying to turn my thoughts into words that won’t trigger every red flag a seasoned pro athlete could have. If I voice my true thoughts, Noah will be here by nightfall. He's a caretaker, like me. He has been since the day their dad died when we were teenagers.
I don’t want to lie to one of my longtime friends, but I also don’t want him taking anything extra onto his shoulders. Day one of seeing Oakley Kate already has me trying to figure out how to fill her in on everything. Speaking of Kates…
“Ran into your sister today,” I mumble, deciding a change in topic is safer than Noah’s current line of questioning.
“You sure it was her?” The hesitancy in his tone speaks volumes. “She’s supposed to be on a flight to Seattle tonight.”
Well, I guess that’s confirmation that she hasn’t told big brother anything.
“Pretty sure I know when I’m holding my ex in my arms, unless she had herself cloned at some point.” Best ten seconds of my month.
“Huh. Wonder why she didn’t tell me or Jett she’d be around. Those two get together every chance they can.”
I bite my tongue, knowing if she didn’t tell him about coming home, then she didn’t tell him about the injury either. Clearly, she didn’t want to worry big brother.
“Nice subject change, by the way,” he grumbles. “Be serious. How are you holding up with balancing hockey and your kid sister? Ready to accept help yet?”
My fingers roughly knead the base of my neck, trying to relieve the building tension.
The conversations with Rooks, Thorn, and Hannah are happening more and more often—damn near daily at this point—about how I need a nanny, but I can’t trust anyone with Aubrey.
Finding anyone who isn’t in it to get in bed with a hockey player is impossible.
Noah clears his throat, and I realize I’ve been quiet too long when I hear his keys jingle on the other end. “I’ll be there this afternoon.”
“What? No, Noah. You don’t need to do that.” Am I panicking? Is this what panicking feels like? Like my lungs are seizing up and my heart just bottomed out into my stomach?
Noah chooses to stay oblivious to my distress as he continues. “I can take PTO. And it sounds like I have a baby sister to check on, anyway. I’ll be there in a few hours.”
The weight that lifts from my chest at his words would bring me to my knees if I wasn’t already on the couch.
Pressure builds behind my eyes, tears threatening, but I refuse to let them fall.
Clearing my throat, I mumble, “Gate code’s the same,” before hanging up. Maybe this won’t blow up in our faces.