Page 33 of Famous Last Words (New York Thunder #1)

CHAPTER 33

FRAN

I follow Robbie upstairs. It’s even smaller than downstairs. Just two bedrooms and a bathroom, a poky hallway lined with framed action shots and newspaper clippings of Robbie that make me smile because it’s obvious his mom is his biggest fan.

“Okay, this is us,” Robbie says, walking through an open doorway.

“Us?” I balk. “We’re sharing ?”

He meets my eyes. “Yeah…”

Again, my heart starts going crazy as I step into the bedroom. I’m met with a huge bed that takes up most of the space, facing a bay window with a view of the street. It feels like the primary.

With a questioning glance at Robbie, I ask, “This isn’t your mom’s bedroom, is it? I don’t want to put her out.”

“It was.” He shrugs, placing my case by the bench at the foot of the bed. “Ma has trouble getting up and down the stairs, so we renovated and built a suite downstairs.”

I frown, thinking of his mom and, despite her beauty and the uncanny resemblance she shares with her so n, her eyes look tired, sunken with dark circles, and she’s so tiny, skin and bone.

“I like her.”

He pulls on the back of his neck as a sad smile lifts the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.” Glancing at his watch, Robbie tilts his head in the direction of the door. “We should get going. I’ve gotta get to the arena.”

I nod, checking my purse to make sure I have everything before following Robbie out of the room and back downstairs where Victoria is back in her chair, sipping from a mug.

“Okay, Ma. We’re gonna go.” Robbie leans down, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “You gonna be okay here ‘til Rhonda gets in?”

“Wait.” I look from Victoria to Robbie and back again, my eyebrows knitting together. “You’re not coming with us?”

Victoria laughs. “No, hon. Sadly, I can’t get out much like I used to.”

“And it’s not safe for Ma to be around so many people,” Robbie adds. “Germs and shit.”

“My son, the worrier.” Victoria rubs Robbie’s hand, and the look in her eyes as she gazes up at him is both endearing and heartbreaking; she’s looking at Robbie like she’s trying to memorize every detail, almost like she’s scared she might never see him again.

“I have my rink-side seat right here.” She pats the arm of her chair, grinning up at me.

I consider myself a moment. And I’m not sure what comes over me, but I find myself talking without even thinking. “You know what?” I look at Robbie, “I might stay in, too. That is if you don’t mind, Victoria?”

“Oh, I would love the company.” She beams, her eyes lighting up. “But only if you call me Vicky.”

“I can do that,” I smile.

She begins rustling around in the basket on the side table next to her chair, pulling out a remote and aiming it at the TV.

Robbie mov es in closer to me, brow quirked, voice a little lower. “You sure?”

“Yeah. You don’t mind?”

A small smile ghosts his lips as he looks at me for a long moment, and I’m not sure what it is, but there’s an emotion in his eyes I’ve never seen before. “Thank you,” he whispers, reaching out and gently squeezing my hand.

“Okay, well, I’m gonna go,” he says a little louder. “Rhonda will be here soon.” His gaze flits to me. “Rhonda’s Ma’s night nurse.”

I nod.

Robbie leans down and kisses Vicky’s cheek once more. “Alright, Ma, no parties, okay?”

Vicky rolls her eyes, and I laugh.

“Walk me out?” Robbie murmurs, leading the way.

I follow him to the mud room where he pops his cap back on and turns it backwards, shrugging on his coat.

Since I’m staying in, I remove my jacket and hang it up, but as I do, Robbie pulls me in, hands at my waist, holding me flush against him. I peer up at him, suddenly breathless, staring into his eyes as they bore down into mine. We’re so close and out of Vicky’s view; there’s no one here to see this. I clamp my bottom lip between my teeth before I say something I know I’ll probably regret.

“Thank you,” he says after a minute.

A sliver of disappointment settles low in my belly because he’s just thanking me for staying home with his mom. I force a smile. “No problem.” I shrug, looking down. “I’m actually pretty tired.”

An unexpected jolt surges through me when Robbie’s hands slide up under the hem of his jersey I’m wearing, calloused fingers grazing my skin. I snap my head up to find his eyes darker than they were seconds ago, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. And again, the simple task of breathing evades me.

Slowly, Robbie lowers his head, and I’m almost certain he’s going to kiss me. But then he fakes left, lips brushing against the shell of my ear as he whispers, “I’ll see you later.”

I swear to God, I shiver at the feel of his breath, at the words which are so innocuous but spoken with such a raw, unabashed heat. When he pulls back, I see nothing but wanton need in his gaze, and I feel it straight in my core.

I swallow hard, taking a step back, desperate for some space between us because otherwise I’m scared I’ll jump his bones right here by the front door.

He flashes me a slow wink, that cocky smile lifting the corner of his mouth as he turns and walks out the door. I’m forced to stand here for a moment, in the hope that I can at least pull myself together enough to go back inside and not completely give everything away to the woman who knows Robbie better than anyone.

Two minutes into overtime and the Thunder scored a goal, making the final score 2-1 at the end of a grueling and exciting game.

I’d been surprised at how passionate Vicky was, shouting at the TV, cheering and clapping, even making idle threats to the Boston player who checked Dallas from behind, causing a four on two brawl the refs were forced to break up. Robbie and Logan had been sent to the box together, but while they were in there, they just sat grinning at one another as the diehard Boston fans booed them through the glass. At one point, Robbie stood, antagonizing them with a ‘bring it on’ motion, and not gonna lie… it was all kinds of sexy.

Robbie: See the fight?

I roll my eyes, but I can’t hide my smile because this has become our thing. No hello , or h ow’s it going , just see the fight . I shake my head.

Me: I did.

Robbie: Did it make you wet?

Oh. My. God.

Me: Yeah, I was sure to tell your mom just how wet I was ??

Robbie: ?? How’s she doing?

Me: She’s good. She loves watching you play.

Robbie: You good if I go for a drink with the guys?

Me: Of course. Everything is fine here. Have fun.

“Is that my son?”

I snap my head up to see Vicky smiling at me, a knowing look in her eyes, and I feel my cheeks turn an obvious shade of pink.

“Oh…” I laugh, nervously tucking my hair behind my ear. “Uh, yeah.”

Vicky hums. “I’ve never seen him like this before. Not like he is with you.”

I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself from prying. “He said he’s never had a girlfriend,” I say, adding quickly, “before me.”

She shakes her head, a wistful smile playing on her lips. “No. He was always popular with the girls at school. But then hockey became the most important thing, and girls took a backseat.”

I nod because I rememb er just how serious Robbie was about hockey when he was at Belmont.

“I worry that my illness has had a lot to do with him staying single over the years,” Vicky continues. “He’s been so focused on hockey and me, and I feel like he never allowed himself the time to date.” A sadness suddenly washes over her as she looks down at her hands, and I wonder if Robbie ever told his mom about what happened in Minnesota. Somehow I don’t think so, and that makes my heart hurt for him even more.

“Sometimes I think he’s scared he might end up like his father.” She glances at me, obviously tentative. “Did he tell you about his father?”

“Not a lot. Just that he wasn’t a nice man,” I say reluctantly. “And that he took off when Robbie was young.”

With a solemn nod, Vicky presses her lips together. “He was horrible. An alcoholic. Drugs. Robbie saw some things no child should have to see.”

I reach over the arm of the sofa and gently grab her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I tried to leave. Take Robbie and run away.” She glances at me, and I see something that resembles guilt flicker in her gaze. “But he said he would find me. Us . And that I’d be sorry.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “What made him finally leave?”

She scoffs, shrugging her shoulders. “Your guess is as good as mine. I returned home from work late one night to find Robbie in the house all alone at eight years old. Thankfully he was unharmed and asleep. But his father had ransacked the house, taken everything of value. He’d even snuck into Robbie’s room and took his piggy bank that probably had no more than six dollars in quarters.”

I wince.

“He left that night, and we haven’t seen or heard from him since. The first year was hard because I was terrified he was going to show back up. But then, as time went on, I realized…” She looks sad for a moment but then scoffs. “He was pr obably already dead.”

“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I’m sorry that happened to you and to Robbie. But if anything good can come out of something so horrible, you need to know that you raised an amazing son.”

She smiles, flipping her hand over so we’re palm to palm, her fingers intertwined with mine. “I’m glad he has you.”

I’m already more than a little taken aback by her words, but then she continues.

“Promise me you’ll make sure he’s okay… when I’m gone.”

Tears sting the backs of my eyes as a heaviness settles like lead in my chest. The lump in my throat is back, and it’s almost impossible to breathe around it, but I manage a smile despite the guilt coursing through me because the truth is, I absolutely would promise her that. But the question remains; when all is said and done, will Robbie still want me around?

The energy in the room suddenly shifts as Rhonda plows in from the kitchen like a ball of uncontainable energy. She’s adorable. Mid-sixties. Less than five feet tall. With bright red lipstick, dark purple hair coiffed to perfection, and neon-pink spectacles dotted with diamantes.

“You ready for your nightcap, V?”

Vicky suddenly looks a little sheepish, glancing at me with a slow smile.

I arch a brow. “Night cap?”

She pushes up from her chair and holds her hand out for me. “Join me?”

Uncertainty washes over me because I really don’t know if Robbie would be happy with his mom drinking. But then, at the same time, Vicky is a grown, fifty-something woman.

“Wine, or something stronger?” I ask, hopping up and linking my arm with Vicky’s.

Rhonda lets out a howling laughter, and I glance sideways at Vicky.

“Oh, hon,” she says, patting my hand and leading me through the archway.