“I know,” she says quietly. “I can’t even imagine the stresses it adds. What did you say to your girls when you moved out?”
“Well…” I try not to think about that day if I can help it. “Kara sat ’em down and told them, ‘Our family will work better if Daddy lives somewhere else.’ And I just kinda sat there and nodded, like that made any sense at all. I think she got it out of a parenting book on divorce. The girls weren’t even three, though. And I already traveled so often that I’m not sure it sunk in for a while.”
That whole month is a blur to me now. But it still hurts, goddamn it. I never wanted to do that to my kids. And I was never given a choice.
“Do you miss Kara?” Hailey asks softly.
“Fuck no,” I say, and it’s the truth. “Things weren’t great between us. But I don’t give up like that. I made a vow, and I wasn’t going to let a shitty game schedule mess it up, you know? She hated the lifestyle. She said, ‘Being divorced won’t really be any different most of the time.’”
Hailey makes a noise of distress. “That’s cold.”
“And short-sighted,” I point out. “I’ll be retired before the girls need braces. We said forever at our wedding, but she can’t count.” I laugh, but it’s bitter.
She strokes my hip with soft fingers. “Sorry for your troubles.”
“Not having any troubles right now. Except for croissant crumbs in my bed.” Time to lighten up this conversation.
“That was your idea, big guy.”
I roll over and kiss her.
Eighteen
Sticks & Stones
Three Weeks Later
Hailey
The holidays pass blessedly fast. The good thing about owning a business like Fetch is that everyone and their mother is overwhelmed by last-minute holiday bullshit, which means I’m able to bury myself in work so that I don’t have to think about my holiday bullshit and mother.
She didn’t even send a card. Not that she ever does, but it still bothers me. Some people like to believe that parents love their children no matter what, but I realized at an early age that that’s not the case.
My mom doesn’t care about anyone but herself. My dad…heck, I don’t even remember what he looks like—that’s how fast he ran out the door.
I didn’t get to spend Christmas with Matt, because he flew to Tampa with the girls to visit his parents. He asked me to come along, but there was no way I could abandon Jackson during Fetch’s busiest season. Jax invited me to Christmas Eve dinner at his folks’ place, which I politely declined. Deciding who I’d want to spend time with the least—my selfish mother or Jackson’s horrible father—would be an impossible feat. In the end, I went to Jenny’s family’s place for dinner and spent the whole night bouncing Jenny’s adorable infant nephew on my knee.
Now, the holiday craziness is behind us, Matt is back in town, and I’m excited to see what this new year will bring. Good things, I hope. And lots of hot sex. But the sex will have to wait until later tonight.
“Weather Lady!” Blake Riley bellows as I approach the back booth of the bar. He’s so ridiculously loud that his voice carries over the din of the crowded room, causing a dozen heads to turn in my direction.
This will be the third time I’ve hung out with Blake, so you’d think I’d be used to his bellowing by now. Yet it startles me every time. And don’t get me started on the Weather Lady nickname. Still makes no sense to me, but Matt keeps advising me to ignore it.
Speaking of Matt, my big, sexy hockey god rises from his seat to greet with me a suffocating hug and a toe-curling kiss. And now we’re attracting a different kind of attention, in the form of curious stares from patrons and catcalls courtesy of Blake.
“Leave the poor girl alone,” Jess Canning chides from her perch on Blake’s lap. There’s plenty of space for her to sit on the actual bench, but I’ve noticed that every time Blake and Jess are in the same room, he insists she be draped over him in some fashion.
Me, I sit down next to Matt like a good girl, even though I’m dying to be a bad one and maul him like a hungry lion. I haven’t seen him in three days because of road games, and he had to cancel our last two dinner dates because of team events. I would have gone to his place last night to welcome him home, but he got in super late and I had to be up super early, much to our equal displeasure.
It’s weird being Matt Eriksson’s girlfriend. Or, at least I think I’m his girlfriend. He hasn’t said the G-word, and I only use the B-word in my head when I’m thinking about him. But I know we’re exclusive, and I’m pretty sure we’re together.
Jenny teases me that we’re in a relationship with a capital R. All I know is that I love every second I spend with Matt. He’s so…real. Warm and gorgeous and funny and how the hell did I ever get so lucky?
“Aw, Hails doesn’t mind,” Blake is saying to Jess.
“Yeah, I’m sure she’s thrilled every time you announce her presence to the entire bar and then make howling cat sounds while she kisses her man,” Jess grumbles back.
I grin at the couple. “I don’t mind that part. But the Weather Lady nonsense is another story.”
“Nonsense?” Blake looks outraged. “Took me for-fucking-ever to pick the perfect nickname for you, WL. You oughta be more grateful.”
I swipe Matt’s beer bottle from his hands. “Uh-huh. I’m so very grateful, Riley.” I take a sip, then hand the bottle back, earning me a crooked smile from Matt.
“Yours is right here, you know,” he says wryly, gesturing to the bottle directly in front of me.
“Oh!” I say, reaching for my favorite local beer. It’s hard to find in most bars, which is why I was thrilled to discover it’s actually served at Sticks & Stones. I knew this place was a hockey bar, but since it’s not close to where I live, I’d never been before until Matt brought me here for the first time a couple weeks ago.
And I’m blushing happily as I reach for the beer. He must’ve ordered it when I texted him after I got off the subway, because it’s still cold. My boyfriend is thoughtful like that.
“I’m glad we’re finally making this happen,” Jess says, gesturing around the booth with her beer. “Blake’s been babbling about this double-date idea for ages.”
“I do not babble,” Blake protests.
“Yeah, sorry it took a while to get it done,” Matt says, and there’s a guilty flicker in his eyes.
I pat his thigh under the table. The last double date we tried to schedule was one of the things he had to cancel, because he’d gotten held up at an interview he was doing for Men’s Health. I ended up going out with Blake and Jess alone, and the next time I saw Matt, he wouldn’t stop apologizing for missing dinner, an unhappy look on his face the entire time. I tried to assure him that it was no biggie, but the man seems to think that canceling on me is a cardinal sin. I suppose I should be flattered that he’s so determined not to let me down.