Page 91 of Branded (Breakers Hockey)

Twenty

Jules

“Whoa,” Ethan breathed as we walked across the street and approached the arena.

I knew the feeling.

It was huge and brightly lit and surrounded by people who were dressed in the trademark royal blue and black of the Breakers.

Ethan and I didn’t have jerseys like so many of the fans approaching the entrances had, but I’d managed to track down a beanie for him at a local secondhand store that morning.

For myself, I had settled for wearing Breakers colors—blue top and earrings, black scarf and beanie.

We both wore our thickest coats, which, luckily for my attempts at team spirit, were both black.

Easy to match the home team’s colors.

But I’d chosen black coats for a reason—they were utilitarian. Plus, the color meant that it was easy to hide the stains.

Ethan tugged on my hand, and I realized that I’d slowed down to practically a crawl, trying to see everything, trying to take it all in, trying to commit it all to memory.

And, yeah, maybe I was also trying to glean every bit of insight about what Cas’s life was like, what it was like for him to play here, to work here.

He knew my biggest secret—or maybe not secret, since it wasn’t like I was hiding Ethan, hiding that he was mine.

I just…didn’t talk about where he came from.

But now Cas knew that Nate was his father, that he’d broken my heart and faith in myself.

Knew that my father had disowned me and blamed me for my mother’s death and thought I was a slut.

And he knew that I wouldn’t have been okay without Lake’s help, but I couldn’t bring myself to allow him to get close to me again.

But parts of me had been permanently broken by Nate.

All of which I’d told Cas, had given him my biggest hurts, my deepest pains.

And I knew next to nothing about him.

I’d heard him talk about siblings, and he’d mentioned two sisters to Ethan.

I knew he was close to his parents and his teammates.

I knew what kind of beer he drank and that he ordered a burger as often as he got a salad.

I knew his laugh and how his arms felt around me.

I knew that he listened to what I said and that he actually saw me, and he treated me with care and sprinkled my apple slices with cinnamon and cleaned up after making pancakes in my kitchen?—

But I didn’t really know him.

Except, didn’t I?

I knew some big important things. I knew a lot of small ones and?—

“Mom!” Another tug. One that jarred me out of my mind and sent me jerking into motion.

“Sorry, buddy,” I told Ethan. “I’m just impressed.”

“It’s so cool!” he said, doing a little dance.

While he was completing his jig, I took the moment to remind myself that I didn’t need to know Cas.

I wasn’t dating hockey players.

Not even yummy ones? the self-destructive part of my mind asked.

Nope. No. Never.

No more hockey players. No matter how yummy they were.

A nod to myself (and ah, wasn’t delusion great?), and then I’d spotted the box office so led Ethan that way.

One hockey game.

For Ethan.

No more hockey players.

Ever.

“Whoa, Mom!”

I was feeling the same thing.

The inside of the arena was bright and huge and cool, the air tightening the skin on my cheeks as we walked carefully down the concrete stairs, following the usher who was leading us to our seats.

“Here you are, Ms. Blackstar,” she said, pointing toward a pair of chairs on the aisle that was obscenely close to the glass. Just—I counted quickly—six rows back.

Expensive seats.

Oh, I was going to kill him.

“Thank you,” I told the usher.

“He can go down”—the woman nodded at the row of kids gathered next to the glass—“and watch the players warm up so long as you guys are in your seats at puck drop.”

Wide, excited eyes on mine. “Can I, Mom?”

I nodded. “Yeah, honey,” I said, the words barely out of my mouth before he was scrambling down the steps and pressing himself into a free spot on the glass.

I’d need to wrangle him away from the ice at some point, get the kid some food, but he’d been too excited for me to torture him by making him wait in the long food lines.

And not that I would admit it, but he’d wasn’t the only one who was too excited to wait in line.

Smothering a grin—and thinking that it was convenient to have a kid to blame my impatience on—I watched Ethan chatter excitedly with a kid next to him who was decked out in Breakers gear from head to toe.

That was my boy, able to make friends anywhere.

A rush of noise drew my focus back to the ice, and I found my breath catching as the teams began to enter the rink.

I’d served hockey players at CeCe’s on a regular basis for years now.

I was used to their height, to how big most of them were.

But like this —on their skates, flying rapidly around the ice—and I felt tiny, like an insignificant speck in the universe as all the crazy bright planets and moons and meteors flew around me.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

My gaze focused, and I saw Smitty grinning at me, waving a big hand. He pointed down at the kids, presumably asking which one was mine.

I pointed at Ethan.

And that was when my heart cracked open because he crouched enough to stare into my son’s eyes, mouthing something I couldn’t see, but a moment later, he’d straightened and tossed a puck over the glass to Ethan.

Shit. Now my eyes were damp.

But even through that dampness, I saw that Smitty took a few more moments to toss pucks to each of the kids gathered around Ethan.

Such a good guy.

But even as I thought that, my gaze was skipping beyond Smitty, going to the players fanning out behind him. Marcel was there and Raph, Theo, and Walker, a few of the other faces were familiar as well, but none I knew as well as Cas’s.

Even from across the rink—he was standing on the bench at the far side of the ice—I could feel his gaze on mine, warm and searching and?—

The connection was broken as he turned away to talk to one of the people on the bench.

Then he straightened and hopped over the boards, skating across the ice.

Coming toward me.

He paused in front of Ethan, grinning when my son held up the puck Smitty had given him, waving at the other kids who mirrored Ethan’s actions.

But then his gaze was back, and it was heavier and hotter and more intense than anything I’d ever experienced.

I saw how much he liked that I was there, that Ethan was there.

He wanted us there.

And…a piece of my heart unlocked.

Another piece.

A dangerous piece.

Yet, I couldn’t even summon a modicum of panic because the moment it began to gather in my belly, to grip the back of my throat, a voice called my name from behind me.

I glanced up, saw another employee of the arena, only this time his arms were full. He held a huge tray of nachos and pretzels, a tub of popcorn, two drinks, some boxes of candy, a hot dog and a huge, wrapped sandwich that smelled so delicious, it immediately had my stomach rumbling.

Before I could say that I hadn’t paid for any food, he was setting the tray in my lap, was slipping away?—

No slipped back .

To make room for the other employee who was standing behind him.

Holding two huge bags emblazoned with the Breakers symbol.

Those were tucked at my feet.

Then both employees were gone, and I was staring at them, my mouth hanging open, trying to process what in the fuck-all was going on.

“Whoa! Is this for us, Mom?” Ethan said, using his superhuman skills to scent food to magically reappear at my side.

“I—”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Gasping, my head jerked up, eyes finding Cas’s again.

Intense green eyes.

Stubborn green eyes.

Oh, I was so getting him back for this.

“Yeah, bud,” I muttered. “It’s for us.”