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This may or may not be warranted. I’ve missed a few flights from time to time.
I check my phone and set a reminder. “Promise. I won’t be late.”
I’ve said this before too.
On the way back to my condo in the Trump Towers, I text Callie to see if she wants to come over. I know she’s coming with us to Pittsburgh, but you can’t blame a guy for trying to score the night before, right?
Just agree with me.
Unfortunately, she ignores me, which lately is nothing new.
CHAPTER3
TOP SHELF
LEO
“Where Grandma keeps the good stuff” —the upper section of the goal’s net between the crossbar and the goalie’s shoulders.
“That’s disgusting!Did you have to touch his penis?” Ami asks, curious about our prank on Ryan when we wrapped him in Saran Wrap and took pictures.
Ami is as innocent as they came. It’s entertaining that she’s dating Mase, because he’s far from innocent. He enjoys pretending to be—around her—but he’s the first to spin a conversation dirty, only he blames it on me.
“That’s the thing about hockey players, Ami...” I bump Ami’s shoulder with my own, sitting down next to her. “We’re nasty motherfuckers and think with our sticks.”
Mase rolls his eyes, disgusted I’m being honest with his girl. “Not all of us are.”
“Bullshit,” Remy says with a cough, barely able to control his laughter. “You ar—”
Mase punches him. Pussy. Can’t take getting his balls busted around his family.
Maybe I exaggerate when I talk, but I have a point to make, and damn it, people need to listen. Everyone around us is keyed into our conversation, laughing right along with me as I tell them about Shawzer’s new haircut.
Remy, Callie, and I fly to Pittsburgh with Mase and Ami for Christmas after our game. Sam and Judy Masen, Mase’s parents, always welcome us, which is nice, seeing how I have no family around here, and neither does Remy or Callie. Okay, they have family, but they don’t want to see them, and I’m in the same boat.
My younger brother, Patrick, is a fuckin’ leech. I avoid him when I can. Thankfully he isn’t around this Christmas. My mom is living in Australia now. We FaceTimed before I left, but I haven’t spent a holiday with her in probably two years. Sad? Not really if you knew my upbringing. It’s a lot like foster care—only my mom was around. I was just pushed off with whoever had time. Neighbors, friends, the dude down the street who played poker and used her for sex. And my dad? Haven’t seen him since I was two. Couldn’t tell you what bar that drunk motherfucker is in tonight or if he’s still alive.
I like to drink, but I’m not my father. A no-good son of a bitch.
I know what you’re thinking. Past like that and you turned out pretty good.
I had a coach who cared and made it all possible for me. It only takes one good human to change the path of another. Write that down. It will get you far in life.
Looking around the room at everyone, this family is better than anything I’ve had before.
I notice Catelyn, Evan’s little sister, sitting by herself on the couch near the tree, her eyes on Remy and then her brother. She likes Remy. Okay, she loves the guy but can’t show it around Mase. He’d kill Remy if he found out he kissed her yesterday. You didn’t hear that from me.
“Hey, Jud-bug.” I give Judy a wink when she glances over at me. Judy can’t say no to me. I take a seat next to Catelyn, a beer in one hand, a glass in the other. Setting the glass between my legs, I wrap my arm around Catelyn and smile, trying to look sweet and innocent. “It’s Christmas, eh. Give her some.”
I’m very convincing. Sam, Evan’s dad, smiles, shaking his head, as though he wants nothing to do with this argument and leaves the decision up to Judy. She doesn’t say yes, but she also doesn’t say no.
Catelyn looks curiously at the beer I hand her. “Drink up.”
I’m not sure if Catelyn has ever had a drink before tonight, but I’m sure she’s going to remember this one.
She does and has the first beer finished in twenty minutes and has proceeded to sit on Remy’s lap. Liquid courage does wonders.
Remy is getting awfully flirty with her, and I can’t stop laughing. Like I said, if Mase knew Remy had already kissed his sixteen-year-old sister once, he’d kill him. I wasn’t spilling that detail. No fucking way. There are five years between them. In guy years, that’s nothing. In big brother years… that’s like twenty. Anything over one year rounds up to twenty in brother years automatically.