Page 19 of Game Changer (Wynn Hockey #5)

“Well, we’re still the champs,” I joke.

“Yes, we are! And I had fun tonight. I like your family.”

“I had fun, too, surprisingly. Things aren’t as tense as I remember.”

“That’s good.”

“They also seemed to like you. So thanks for coming.”

Back in the room, we arrange the pillow barrier down the middle of the bed, although I’ve noticed Molly has shifted it toward herself to give me more room. She’s sweet like that.

When the lights are out and we’re both under the covers and I’m definitely not thinking about her bare legs and braless tits so close to me, she murmurs, “What’s up for tomorrow?”

“I’m gonna go see Grandpa again.” I pause. “You can come with me if you want.”

She doesn’t reply right away. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You won’t be interfering.”

I hear a little huff and sense her smile. “Okay. G’night.”

“Night, Flynn.”

“When are you two getting married?”

I freeze in place and slide my gaze over to Molly, who’s wide-eyed, then back to Grandpa. “We’re not getting married.”

“You have to get married.” Grandpa’s eyebrows knit together.

I flash Molly an apologetic grimace, but she smiles. “It’s okay,” she mouths. She sits next to Grandpa on the couch. “We’re just friends, Mr. Wynn. I mean, Bob.”

“Men and women can’t be friends,” he says. “You can’t be friends with someone you’re attracted to, and men are attracted to all woman, so the idea that you can be friends without sex is ridiculous.”

I’m honestly speechless at this. My eyes flick over to Molly who also appears dumbstruck.

“And look at you.” He gestures to Molly. “Of course Jackson is attracted to you.”

“Oh my God,” I mutter, dropping my face into my hand. “Grandpa.”

“Um, well, thank you,” Molly says.

The biggest problem with all this? He’s right. I am attracted to Molly. The more time I spend with her, the more I see how gorgeous she is, inside and out. She’s fun and smart and adventurous, also thoughtful and caring.

I think I already knew those things about her, but when a woman belongs to someone else, you don’t let yourself feel the attraction. But now…I feel it.

Damn.

“He never did have much of a filter,” Chelsea whispers to me. “But now it’s totally gone. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

Grandpa is telling a story, I think it might be about when he met Chelsea…or maybe Grandma? It’s not entirely clear, and it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but Molly’s listening, smiling, and making appropriate comments.

“And then she went outside, and around, and I waited, and that was so much fun,” he says.

My heart contracts painfully. There are times he’s still with it and times he’s not, and it’s so fucking sad.

Chelsea returns from the kitchen, setting a plate of cookies on the table. Molly eagerly reaches for one, and offers the plate to Bob, who shakes his head.

“How’s your mom doing, Jackson?” Chelsea asks me.

“She’s doing great. She has a book coming out later this year.”

“Oh, wow! That’s amazing!” Chelsea beams.

“Yeah. It’s about achieving high performance and staying humble, I think.” I add for Molly’s benefit, “My mom’s a sports psychologist.”

She nods. “I think that’s so cool.”

“Your mom is such a smart woman,” Chelsea says. “It was nice to see her at the wedding last year.”

“She’s talking about moving here,” I say. “I think she has a job offer from the L.A. Cougars.”

“That would be a big change from Toronto.”

Grandpa isn’t saying anything, just smiling and nodding. He’s totally faking understanding. Which is also heart-rending.

By the time we leave, Molly has Grandpa telling her what a beautiful girl she is and she has to come back.

I see the hint of sorrow in her smile, but she nods and agrees, and even though she’ll never see him again, I know she’s right to say that because he probably won’t understand if she says no, and it makes him happy and that’s what matters.

“Thank you for being so kind to him,” I say once we’re in the car.

She gives me a weird look. “You don’t have to thank me for that. He’s a wonderful man. I wish I’d met him when he could tell more stories. I bet he was fascinating.”

“Yeah. He was.”

“You still have those memories,” she says softly. “You always will.”

“Yeah.” I blow out a breath. “I wish I had more, though. I wish…”

“What?”

“Dad and Uncle Matt kind of spoiled my relationship with Grandpa. I wish that didn’t happen.”

“Ah. Yeah. I get it. But…”

Now it’s my turn. “What?”

“Well, your relationship with your Grandpa is between you and him.”

I huff. “True. But I felt like I needed to be on my dad’s side, you know?”

“Even though you and your dad don’t get along.”

Jesus. This woman. She’s always fucking right and it’s exasperating, but also…she’s right. “Okay, I get what you’re saying. My dad’s my dad, and I…care about him and also I care about Grandpa.”

She smiles.

“And it’s hard not to get down about what’s happening to him, but he had an amazing life, and we’ve all been lucky to be part of it. Even though at times he was stubborn and hard to get along with.” I pause. “I wonder how much Dad and Uncle Mark regret all the negativity.”

“Did you talk to your dad about that when you went out for lunch?”

“No.”

“Jax, you should have.”

“You’re probably right. I’m a coward.”

“No, you’re not. It’s not easy talking about the things that have hurt us. But…”

“What?”

“It’s none of my business. Sorry.”

“No, tell me.”

“It seems like your relationship with your dad is distant.”

“Yeah. That’s a fair comment.”

“Do you want more? Do you want to be closer?”

“Not really.”

She blows out a puff of air. “Jax.”

“He cheated on my mom.”

Her head whips around. I glance sideways at her as I drive. “Oh,” she says.

I sigh. “Yeah. I found out by accident. That was why they split up. Mom’s never said a bad word about him, but I know she was hurt by it. And I fucking hate it.”

She nibbles her bottom lip as Southern California scenery flashes by outside the car. “Do you have questions about that?”

“Questions?” My hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Like, why he cheated?”

“Yeah. I guess. Maybe if you talked to him about it, you’d understand.”

“Wait, you want me to understand? Forgive him? You’re the one who left your fiancé because he cheated on you. You couldn’t get past that.” My voice has risen, and I have to take a long breath.

“True,” she says quietly. “I’m not saying there’s ever any excuse for cheating, but…oh hell. You’re right—I probably do need to talk to Steve about it.”

Wow, that was a quick spinorama.

“For closure. Understanding. I probably need that to move on. And I think you probably do, too, with your dad.”

Well, shit. At least she’s not a hypocrite, but she has a point. I did say that about talking to Steve. I better not be a hypocrite either.

“I guess I could talk to Dad again while I’m here,” I say gruffly.