Page 11 of Full Body Hit, Part 2 (Alpha Omega Hockey #6)

CHASE

I t was the shock of it that was making Chase so shaky. Having his mom show up without warning was a nice surprise—that she’d travelled all the way there and watched the game. He was grateful.

He didn’t know why his heart wouldn’t stop racing. Why he was fighting a flinch every time his mom raised an eyebrow at him as they approached Chase’s apartment door.

God, he didn’t want to go inside. He wished he could have gone with Auston. That he could pick up the phone and call Aunix, but for what?

It was just his mom.

Chase couldn’t help but watch her as they stepped over the threshold and into Chase’s home. Because that was what it had become— home . Something his. A place he felt safe.

His mom’s eyes cut through the space. Chase looked around too, seeing everything from her perspective—the pillows and blankets piled on the couch. The stained-glass lights. The soft art on the wall. The little figurines. The vase with flowers. The diffuser loaded with a light, pleasant scent.

Chase’s cheeks flamed. It was all so…

Omega.

“Sorry,” Chase whispered, hurrying to the couch and grabbing as many blankets and pillows as he could.

His knees suddenly felt weak with relief as he saw that the door to his actual nest was shut.

He didn’t have a guest room, so he just stuffed everything in his closet before hurrying out. “Um, you can put your bag in my room? I can sleep on the couch.”

His mom hummed, patting him on the head as she passed.

He relaxed a little. That little touch was as affectionate as she got.

Maybe she wasn’t mad about his apartment.

Chase hovered in the doorway. “Are you hungry? Do you want dinner?” It was late, but it was likely his mother hadn’t eaten yet.

“Sure. Let’s order something, though. Don’t want you burning the apartment down,” she joked.

Chase nodded and took his phone out. He’d actually gotten pretty good at making a few recipes, but he wasn’t going to argue with his mom. “What are you in the mood for?”

Chase’s mom sighed—a noise Chase was very familiar with. “Honey, I’ve just travelled all the way here…surely you can decide for yourself.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Why was he so stupid when he was with his mom? It was as if he suddenly became incompetent at every little thing.

They retreated to the living room as Chase ordered them quinoa salads. He’d usually get something more filling to recover from a game, but he knew his mom preferred lighter stuff.

His mom sat on the couch, balancing on the edge of the cushion, spine straight. “Did this place come already furnished?”

“Um. No. Sammy helped me decorate.”

“Oh. The Omega.” His mom laughed. “Really, Chase…you’re a little old for peer pressure.”

It was my idea. These are the things I like .

The words got stuck in his throat. “Yeah,” he croaked instead, disgust coating the back of his throat for throwing Sammy under the bus.

“Sit. I filmed some of the game—shame you couldn’t pull it together the one time I’m here.”

Chase had a strange, fleeting impulse to…resist. To say no . To tell her that he hadn’t even known she was there—she hadn’t told him.

That he was tired and hungry and just wanted to—

He sat next to his mom, body sinking into the cushions, bones so heavy they were creaking.

His mom took her tablet out. He must have spaced out because there was a knock on the door—he could have sworn he’d only just called for the food.

“Sorry,” he excused himself as he went to get it.

He opened the door and then just stood there for a moment, staring at Sammy and Noah.

“Oh, hi.”

“Sorry for not texting,” Sammy was saying, but he was also pushing inside the apartment, forcing Chase to stumble back. “A pipe burst in our apartment.”

Shock crystalised into concern. “What? Oh, my God. Is your apartment okay?”

“Well, the landlady is there, she’s going to sort everything out, but we need a place to stay for a few days. Oh, hello. You must be Mrs. Spalding.” Sammy punctuated his explanation with a wave to Chase’s mom.

“Nice to meet you,” she replied, but her eyes were hard, mouth pursed. “I’m afraid Chase’s apartment is full right now. I’m sure there’s a hotel nearby, though.”

“Oh, no—I spend so much time in hotels, I simply can’t stand staying in another one.” Sammy blinked at Chase. “We can stay, right? Crash in the living room with you?”

“Sure,” Chase said even though it was a bad idea. Rude, actually, to have guests over when his mom was there and she obviously didn’t appreciate the company.

And yet…

The dynamic changed instantly. His mom tried to steer them to watching tape, but Sammy vetoed that immediately with a, “Oh, I really can’t watch the game right now, I have a headache.”

“It’s not for you,” Chase’s mom sniped.

“Yeah, but I simply couldn’t. Oh, there’s this documentary that’s so good…” and then Sammy was taking hold of the remote control.

When the food arrived, Sammy wrinkled his nose and made sandwiches, giving half to Chase. He made popcorn. He manhandled Chase to the ground to eat, leaving Noah sitting next to Chase’s mom, making awkward small talk with her.

“It was a very expensive umbrella,” he was saying. “You would think it could withstand a little wind. I tried to fix it, but…”

Chase glanced at his mom, who had her eyes narrowed into slits, mouth a tense, wrinkled line.

A knee-jerk jolt went through him, the taste of metal in his mouth, but Sammy jostled him into another conversation, talking through the documentary even though he claimed it was amazing.

Before Chase knew what was happening, it was time to go to bed. Sammy roped him into piling cushions and blankets on the living room floor—Chase had enough of them to construct a giant bed.

“Well,” Chase’s mom said, inspecting what was obviously a very large nest. “Doesn’t that look cozy.”

“Right?” Sammy beamed.

Chase was genuinely unsure if Sammy didn’t get the sarcasm or simply didn’t care.

It was well past midnight by the time they finally settled, piled onto the cushions like kids at a sleepover.

Chase lay in the darkness, cradled between Sammy and Noah, feeling his eyes burn, his throat tight.

There wasn’t a burst pipe. He didn’t know how Sammy had found out about his mom—one of the guards, probably—but they’d engineered all this so that he didn’t have to be alone.

“Thank you,” Chase whispered.

Sammy wrapped around him, front-to-front. “Always.”

Chase shut his eyes and tried not to let the tears fall.

***

“Hey, Daddy.” Chase buried himself in the car seat as much as it would allow.

He’d had no problem convincing Noah and Sammy to go to the arena early for practice or to give him half an hour of alone time, ensconced in the dark of the car park, feeling as close to calm as he’d been since his mom had arrived.

“Baby,” Aunix greeted, sounding harried. “Hey. Are you okay?”

Chase paused at the odd tone. The odd wording. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah, of course.”

“You sound weird.”

A pause. “No, I just—you don’t normally call me this early. You okay?”

Right. For a second, it was as if Aunix knew about Chase’s mom—or, at least, that there was something going on with Chase. “Oh, right. No, yeah, I’m…my mom is here.”

“What? Since when?”

“Since last night. She kind of just showed up. I mean, obviously, it’s a really nice surprise. Just kind of a shock.”

The pause that followed was longer than the last one. “ Is it a nice surprise?”

Chase’s ribs tightened. What was that supposed to mean? “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Baby…okay. Let’s say it’s a nice surprise—it’s still normal for you to be a little put out. To want her to warn you if she flies over.”

Chase brushed him off. “It’s fine.”

He’d never regretted calling Aunix before, but what was the point of this conversation, really? He had nothing to complain about.

He’d just wanted to hear Aunix’s voice.

“It really is fine. My friends are staying with me. I think they made an excuse about a pipe bursting in their apartment so they could stay here.” Chase forced out a laugh. It got stuck in his throat.

“That’s good.” The silence that fell was odd and misshapen and heavy. “Baby, can I say something? That you might not like to hear.”

Chase’s shoulders hunched. God, he was so tired. “I…okay?”

“I think that maybe your mom, as much as you love her—and I’m sure you do—doesn’t make you feel great. Even if her intentions are good, it’s okay for her behaviour to hurt. It’s okay to reach a point where you can tell her that’s not okay anymore.”

Chase took a deep breath, but Aunix kept talking.

“And maybe that’s not right now. That doesn’t have to be right now.

But I just want you to know that what you’re feeling is okay to feel, you know?

You’re not being…ungrateful. It’s okay for you to want your mom to treat you better.

It’s okay to have boundaries like, ‘Please let me know if you’re going to fly over and stay at my apartment. ’ ”

“I don’t…” Chase’s voice shrunk into itself, barely audible. “It’s fine.” He should be grateful .

“Well. I get that you maybe feel that way, and I know you don’t really want to hear this, but I just have to say… I don’t think it’s fine. I wouldn’t think it’s fine if it was done to me, and as someone who fucking…cares about you a lot, I don’t think it’s fine for you, too.”

The emotions that caused clashed together, two waves slamming into each other and spraying everything with water and salt.

He’d always forced himself not to think that way. Not to question his mom, even when what she did felt awful. There had never been anybody to tell him otherwise.

To defend him.

His head was telling him to shut Aunix down—to list all the things his mom had done for him.

Not for you. To you , a small, tender part of him whispered—the same one that wanted to cave and tell Aunix he was right.

Be he couldn’t, not in that moment. The idea of his mom—of what Chase really felt when she was around—was too terrifying to take out and look at in the light.

“Okay. Just. Not now. It’s fine.”