Rushing the Goal (Assassins #8)

He shook his head. “Dirty, throwing Angie in like that.”

She grinned. “I know, come on,” she said, pulling him inside. When she closed the door behind her, his lips curved as he took in his now grown-up living room. She had done an amazing job, the light and dark grays playing off each other with the dark gray sectional. “So everything is superchic. Like, this is top-of-the-line awesomeness, and let me just say, that TV was a pain to hang. I had to hire four dudes to do it,” she said, running her hand along the bottom of the TV as he laughed.

“Should have seen me and Shea carrying that sucker in.”

“I bet! So I left space on the walls for maybe one day hanging candids of you and people you love and shit,” she said offhandedly, but before he could say anything else, she was pulling him into the kitchen. She had done it with a very clean, slick look and it shone in there. “This is my favorite spot,” she said, pointing to the little nook where she had put a big, fluffy chair and side table. “Figure when I come over, I’ll be here.”

He nodded. “Looks perfect for you.”

“I thought so,” she said with a wink, dragging him back into the living room and over to the stairs. “Another favorite part.”

He looked up at the wall next to the stairs and every single hockey picture she could find was hanging up along the stairwell. “Wow.”

“Yeah, isn’t it amazing? And let me say, you pack like a man.”

He scoffed. “I am a man.”

“Whatever,” she said, pointing to a frame that had a very elaborate drawing of him in it. “Angie did that for you.”

His face broke into a grin as read the little message she had put on it. “‘My favorite player, Benji Paxton. #20. Love, Angie. But don’t tell Jude, Jayden, or Jace.’ Well, at least she covers her bases.”

Lucy nodded. “She’s a smart girl.”

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed as they went into his collectible room. “Wow, Lucy,” he said, taking in the glass cases she had installed with his collectibles on display in all their glory. On the south wall was another big TV and his gamer chair. “This is my man cave.”

“Yeah, and apparently, these toys are a big deal. The guys I hired were annoying about them all.”

“They are,” he said dryly, smacking her butt playfully when she rolled her eyes. “Collectibles.”

“Yeah, okay, come on,” she said then, laughing as she pulled him into the first bathroom and then the first bedroom. “So, I know this is silly, and you said you wanted this to be a guest room, but I figured two guest rooms were unnecessary, so I left it empty in here.”

He nodded. “For Angie, when you finally decide to move in.”

“Okay, so that wasn’t silly of me?”

“No, you should have just moved her stuff in.”

She rolled her eyes. “Let’s wait and make sure.”

“What in the hell are we waiting for?” he shot back at her, but she shook her head, moving down the hall.

“Anyway…” she said, blowing out a long breath and flashing him a grin before leading him to the other bedroom that was a guest room and his office. More sports memorabilia was hanging on the walls and it was awesome. He loved it. But his bedroom was probably his favorite. She had done lots of blues with accents of white and gray.

It was perfect.

He smiled up at her, but then something caught his eye. Going around the bed, he looked at the wall that held a picture of a very young version of him and how he remembered Ava, her blond hair up in a messy bun, sweat dripping down her face as she held a brand-new Leary. He gripped his chest, emotion choking him as took in the beautiful picture. It was the day Ava had given birth to Leary, after a long and horrible labor. Leary had gotten stuck and it was scary, but Ava had been a champ. He could still remember her cries as she pushed their daughter out, and how afterward, he had gone out and gotten shit-faced to celebrate Leary’s arrival.

He was so pathetic.

It was almost too much to bear and his eyes flooded with tears. “That day was awesome. Leary was so beautiful,” he whispered.

“She was.”

“I went out and got drunk that night. Didn’t even go back to the hospital, stayed at a buddy’s house. Ava was so mad at me, for good reason.”

Coming up beside him, Lucy reached out, straightening the frame. “Well, she would be proud of who you are today.”

His lips curved slightly as he took in the picture, his heart aching.

“I hope you don’t mind, though, that I hung it. I found the picture in the shed, had it enlarged, and then framed it. I thought it was nice and a good memorial for them. And then, I added us,” she said with a laugh. He looked down at the picture of Angie, Lucy, and him getting ice cream two weeks before. He choked on a sob as he nodded. It was a great picture, all of them making silly faces, and God, he loved them.

“It’s perfect,” he somehow forced out. “I went to AA when we were in LA, and I talked about you, Angie, Ava, and Leary. How I felt guilty.”