Chapter 26
Liam
"Tickets to the Strikers?" Ruthie yells loud enough that the table next to us looks over.
I smile at them and wave my apologies as Levi nods. "Club seats. For every home game between now and the end of the season. And there's three tickets there so you can take a grown up and a friend."
"Or me!" Cooper chimes in.
Alex nudges him as Ruthie rolls her eyes playfully and whips her head toward me. "Dad, did you hear that? Every home game."
I inhale slowly, calculating how we'll somehow fit about a dozen games into our already jam-packed schedule. "I did. That's pretty awesome," I admit. "You better thank your aunt and uncle."
Her head whips back toward them as she hops out of her seat. "Thank you, thank you," she squeals, leaning over each of them still in their chairs and throwing her arms around their necks. Coop hunches in his chair, wincing when Ruthie half-hugs him from the side.
"You really shouldn't have," I say coyly, arching my brow toward my brother.
He reads me like I knew he would. "We'll figure out who can take you for each game. Maybe we'll do some, and Dad can squeeze a couple in. If not, I'm sure Tessa would take you."
Just the sound of her name puts me on edge—almost as if I expect that everyone's next move will be to look in my direction to see how I react. They don't, of course, because I'm the only one besides her who knows that we kissed, but… we did.
We kissed.
And holy shit—did it completely set my world on fire.
"Dad…"
I glance up from the Tessa-sized hole I fell into and find four sets of eyes on me, waiting. "Sorry, what?"
My brother sucks his teeth as Alex chimes in. "I asked if anyone wanted to go for ice cream since the dessert menu here is kind of…"
"Lame," Cooper and Ruthie say simultaneously.
"Lame," Alex echoes with a shrug.
A yawn escapes me in perfect timing. "Guys, I don't mean to be a downer, but I'm beat from the game today. And I have to get ice on this ankle."
"Not feeling any better?" Levi asks, taking a sip from his water.
I look under the table at the joint in question. "I'll be fine—just rolled it. But it'll be sore for game two tomorrow if I don't ice it now. Can we take a raincheck?"
Ruthie's shoulders slump dramatically, and I glance at my brother.
"It is her birthday dinner," he argues in her defense.
I tilt my chin down. "It's actually her third birthday dinner if I'm counting correctly."
Ruthie holds my gaze, her expression blank like she's waiting for my point.
I chuckle to myself, grateful that even after becoming a preteen—even after the episode last night with Kenzie and her big mouth—that she's still just a kid who wants her sugar.
Regardless, the ache in my ankle begs me to decline.
"You guys are doing the game tomorrow night.
Can't you get snow cones at the rink or something? "
"Well, yeah, duh," she says, looking at Cooper. He lifts one shoulder and nods in agreement. "But Uncle Levi says we can do both."
My brother, who is reading over our bill, pops his head up. "I said what now?"
"How about we take these two noodles for ice cream, and we'll drop Ruthie off after? Then, you can go home and ice up. You play early again tomorrow, right?"
"Noon," I sigh.
Alex reaches for her belt bag and tosses it over her shoulder. "Right, so we'll take them now and bring her home later." She glances over at my brother, who turns his lips down, and slides his chair back. "You need rest, and we need Fudge Brownie Explosions."
Both kids cheer as the five of us stand. My eyes dart to Levi's, questioning Alex's sudden need for chocolate syrup, but he looks to the ceiling with a quick shake of his head. "You good with this?" I ask Ruthie, pulling her close.
She wraps one arm around my waist and peers up at me. "Duh." She gives me a squeeze. "We'll bring you home a scoop of Mint Chocolate Chip Moose Tracks."
"With gummy bears?"
She grins. "You got it."
I lean down and kiss the top of her head. "Thanks, Roo."
Standing tall, I open my arms up to my brother. He claps me on the back, strong and steady, and I glance behind him at his wife, his stepson, and my little girl. It's times like these that remind me that our little family might not be conventional, but it's ours. And it's good.
Levi's always been there. And now, Alex is too.
No, Ruthie doesn't have a mom to go to with certain secrets or to ask questions she can't bring herself to ask me.
But she has an aunt and an uncle who both treat her like their own—and a dad who would move mountains to make sure she never felt that missing piece.
Still, sometimes I wish she got to have it all.
"Thanks, little brother," I say, stepping back, still grateful.
He smirks. "For the soccer tickets or the inevitable sugar rush?"
I shove my hands into my pockets, exhaling the weight of another year passed that we survived—thrived.
Together.
I shrug. "For all of it."
Walking in the front door feels different tonight. Not because I'm not sore or exhausted or more excited to be in bed by 8:30 than I should be. All of that still stands. But because Tessa is inside. And Ruthie isn't.
And that changes everything.
I didn't expect this to happen so soon. I thought I'd have a buffer—another night to mentally prepare for being alone with her tomorrow. But now? When the house is this quiet and I'm this drained?
I'm not sure I'm ready for it.
Stepping out of my shoes, I peer into the den—no Tessa, which is what I'd expect. But as I walk further inside, my gaze floats around the kitchen and the living room—still nothing.
It's not completely empty, though. What is here are subtle reminders of her.
The blanket thrown over the back of the couch that I definitely didn't fold.
Soap at the kitchen sink that's not the same one I've repeatedly reordered for the last three years.
That damn book from the plane sitting on the island.
All around are the quiet whispers of a woman's touch.
That she's been here—that she's settling in.
And I never knew I liked that feeling until this very second.
"Tess?" I say loud enough that she might hear me if she were in the dining room. She doesn't answer, so I grab an ice pack from the freezer and wrap a nearby towel around it before tucking it into my sock.
My heart rate increases as I head toward the stairs, my mind running through the possibilities.
Her being in her room makes me nervous—I'm not sure I have the strength right now to keep the lines drawn where they currently are.
But as I climb higher, I realize that's not the thought that gets me most. It's the nagging idea that maybe… she's not here at all.
I saw her car outside, so my instinct says she has to be.
But halfway up the steps, I freeze.
Unless someone picked her up.
Brooke or a sibling could have swung by to get her for whatever plans they may have had. But, no. That's not where my mind goes first.
Instead, I assume that Tessa's on a date.
Or even worse…
With him.
The thought hits hard—a brutal reminder of the feelings I've been actively avoiding. Our kiss completely spun my world off its axis, but that doesn't matter if, for her, it was just a rebound. I didn't sacrifice for this long only to break now and become some sort of placeholder for Tess.
I shake the thought enough to breathe again as I glance down the short stretch of hallway before moving toward the bedrooms. My heart still hammers inside my chest as I take each step slowly—the voice I need to call out to her caught somewhere between my throat and the pit in my stomach.
The deafening silence almost makes it seem as if the house itself is listening for her.
But she might not be here. And I shouldn't care about that.
I peer into the hangout space. Nothing.
I peek into Ruthie's room, and still—no one's there.
When I get to her door, I'm torn between busting it down and not wanting to see the room empty inside. Swallowing my worry, I lift my fist to knock but freeze instead when a dull hum floats underneath the threshold.
"What?" I whisper so quietly it's barely audible. I tilt my head, mostly out of confusion, but as my ear moves closer to the door, the sound grows louder.
I rack my brain for what it could be—her cell phone, an electric toothbrush? But before I can decide, a breathy moan is tossed into the mix.
Holy shit.
All of my blood rushes south, the ice pack at my ankle the only part of me not suddenly hot. And I stay there. Frozen. Listening to the faint vibration and the heavy breaths that mingle with it like the beautiful symphony that it is.
Without even realizing it, I find myself resting my forearm on the doorframe, my forehead pressed against the cool wood to ground me—or keep me upright.
Relief attempts to flood my system—she's here.
But it surfaces as something worse than the panic I was feeling.
It soars back with crippling want and need.
I grow instantly hard. Just the thought of what Tessa is doing on the other side is enough to drive me crazy. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about those sounds escaping her perfect lips—picture what she'd look like sprawled out on a bed in front of me.
But those thoughts are for my fantasies. Where I'm always with her.
On instinct, my free hand drifts toward the knob, prepared to run to her. To drop to my knees and tell her with anything but words how much I want her—all of her. And how much I don't really fucking care that I shouldn't.
But I pull back the second I get close enough to grab it.
What am I doing?
I ball my hand so tight, my forearm aches more than it already was from the game. I can't do this. I shouldn't. It's not right. And it's not at all what's supposed to happen.