Page 34 of Love Me (Charlotte Monarchs Hockey #1)

Bree

“Why are you bouncing?” Tonya asks. We’re standing on the corner, waiting for the light at Brunswick to turn green so we can cross Kings Drive.

“It’s our weekend, T!” I say, bouncing on my toes, unable to control my excitement. After working four ten-hour shifts this week, both Tonya and I have the next three days off.

Her lips twist, and she looks at me. “That’s not a weekend bounce. That’s an I’m-’bout-to-get-laid bounce.”

I snort but keep my mouth closed.

“You’re head over heels, aren’t you?” Tonya asks as we hustle across the street. The light doesn’t stay green long.

“Yes.”

“What did I tell you about him?”

“T,” I begin, “do I say anything about your love life?”

“What do you have to say about my love life? My husband and I have been married for seventeen years.”

“Exactly.”

“Oh no, you didn’t just put your nose in my business.”

I turn toward her, tilting my head with an if-the-shoe-fits look.

“Fine,” she huffs. “I just?—”

“Ah, ah, ah!” I raise a hand to stop her while holding open the door to Zorba’s for her.

She scoots past me and goes right to our booth.

It’s in the back corner of the front section of the restaurant.

The rounded corner booth has seats for about four people while a couple more can take the chairs across the table.

Mindy, whom I saw during the six-hour swing shift she worked today, is meeting us there.

A few other people from the hospital always show up, as well.

I’m especially pumped because Luke texted me when he got home from his trip to Vancouver last night to ask me if I wanted to go to the U.S. National Whitewater Center with him tomorrow. Despite my reservations about getting involved, I haven’t stopped thinking about him since he left.

I go to the bar and order a glass of pinot grigio and a bottle of beer. I like to make it easy for the staff when we bombard them at the end of a shift. Zorba’s is not a craft-brew kind of place, so I settle for beer-flavored water in an amber bottle.

I set the glass of pinot in front of Tonya, then slide into the tattered vinyl booth next to her.

“Did he go to Jack’s memorial service?” she asks.

“He did.”

“How was it? He was broken up, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah.” I take a sip of my beer. “But he did well. He said beautiful things about Jack. I know it gave Ally comfort.”

“You can tell a lot about a person when you see how they act around kids,” Tonya says.

“I agree.” I nudge her with my knee under the table. “Are you doing a 180? You just told me to stay away from him.”

“I’m thinking about it. You might be just what he needs in his life.”

I scratch at the corner of the label on the beer bottle with my fingernail and try to conceal my smile. “He might be what I need in mine.”

Tonya knocks my shoulder with hers. “I thought it was just a casual hookup?”

I nod. “It was supposed to be.”

“But?” Tonya asks before taking a sip of her wine.

“It turned into an ongoing hookup. Which was all I wanted.”

“But?” she asks again.

Instead of looking at Tonya, I focus my gaze on the silver label on my beer bottle. “Then Jack’s memorial service happened, and it sort of shifted things. He was so vulnerable and exposed.” I look up at her. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Don’t explain. Tell me about sex with that man. I always thought about how you could just grab onto his hair and—” Tonya holds her clenched fists up and circles her hips.

“Stop. Please stop.” Leave it to Tonya to take something emotional and turn it back to sex. It’s one of those things I love about her. We spend enough time being serious and responsible at work. It’s nice to be able to let loose and have a laugh.

Thankfully, Mindy rounds the corner of the wall at the front entrance. “Hey, ladies!”

“Thank goodness you’re here!” I exclaim. Tonya bumps my shoulder with hers and brings her fist to her mouth to cover her laugh.

As Mindy slides into the booth next to me, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

“Look at this.” I hold my phone up so my friends can see all the texts from my dad. He’s been blowing up my phone all day.

We want to send Mason out to see you. When would be a good time?

I’ve been waiting for you to call.

When should we fly him out there, Brianna? He needs a change of scenery.

Check your email. I sent you flight times.

“Who’s Mason, and why do they want to send him out here so badly?” Mindy asks.

“Mason is my brother. They want to send him here so they don’t have to pass by him lying on their couch every day anymore.” I shake my head and lower my phone, switching the button to silent before setting it on the table.

I don’t want Mason here. Charlotte is supposed to be a stress-free getaway for me.

“Why don’t they send him somewhere fun, like Mexico?” Tonya asks. “Tijuana is just over the border from y’all, right?”

I laugh. “Well, Mexico would be a vacation. And Mason has been on an extended vacation since he got injured. Now, they want him to get off his ass and do something with his life. Dad is especially concerned as you saw with all the text messages. He’s had unrealistic expectations for Mason since he was born, but it’s gotten out of hand now that a hockey career is no longer an option. ”

“Sounds like a father with only one son,” Tonya says.

“Yep. A son he wanted to do all the things he didn’t get to do, like play professional hockey.”

“Why didn’t your dad play pro? Didn’t you say he was some big star in college?” Tonya asks.

“Yeah. He was, but he met Mom, and she didn’t want to be a hockey wife. He chose to marry her instead of pursuing his career.”

Tonya exhales a whistle as she leans back against the booth. “Your mom must be a fine piece of ass.”

I pause to think about how to describe my high-strung, aggressive, yet still tree-hugging mother.

“I suppose all of the things Dad liked about her back then are the same things he doesn’t like about her now.

She’s smart, independent, a bit cunning—in the business sense—and she has never been the kind of person to sit around and wait for a man.

She started her first business in college. ”

“What kind of business?” Mindy asks.

I pause, kicking myself for starting this part of the conversation. I don’t like people to think I’m bragging about my family’s success. “Healthy Chix.”

“As in Healthy Chix granola bars?” Mindy asks. Then she reaches to the floor, grabs her purse, and sets it in her lap. After digging around for a few seconds, she pulls out the trademark hot-pink, black, and white wrapper of a Healthy Chix granola bar. “This is your mom’s company?”

I nod.

“Did your dad stay at home?” Tonya asks.

“Yeah, right.” I laugh out loud at the thought of either of my parents staying home with their kids. That’s why we had Gemma, our British nanny. “My dad’s official title is Cofounder and Vice President of Everything.”

“We’re sitting with health-food royalty,” Mindy says as our waiter places a cup of ice and a can of Pepsi in front of her. “Your mom is famous.”

“Not really.” I shake off the comment, though Mom would love to hear someone say that. She likes to be recognized.

I’m not knocking her, believe me. As hard as she’s worked her entire life, she deserves praise for her accomplishments. Sami Collins doesn’t know the definition of vacation. I got my work ethic from her. Can’t say the same for Mason anymore.

“Here’s what I don’t get,” Tonya interjects. “If your parents are such successful workaholics, why don’t they make him get off his ass and get a job?”

“They’re trying. I mean, not very hard because they still let him live at home rent-free.” I shrug.

“What does your mom say?” Mindy asks, pouring her Pepsi over the ice.

“Mom’s too busy working on the next project and networking to pay much attention to her son. But deep down, I know it hurts her to see him wasting his life. She wanted him to be a successful professional hockey player just as much as Dad did.”

“What about Mason? What does he want?” Tonya asks.

“Mason wants—” I stop because I don’t know. He never wanted to give up hockey, but he already came to terms with the fact that he’ll never play again. He wasn’t happy, but I think he understood. “I’m not sure what Mason wants,” I admit.

“Your brother needs to suck it up and get his ass off the couch,” Tonya declares before draining the last sip of wine in her glass.

I love how she says what she thinks. And she’s right. Even without knowing our entire backstory.

“Yep.” I lift my beer to the girls. “Which is why I’m here in Charlotte, thousands of miles away from that stress.”

Tonya and Mindy clink their glasses against my bottle.

“Speaking of wack jobs,” Tonya begins.

I almost choke. “Are you talking about my family?”

She doesn’t answer, just tilts her head toward my phone and purses her lips as if waiting for me to challenge her. I don’t. She’s got a point.

“What I meant was, don’t get involved with Dr. Waverly,” she continues. I follow her gaze to the front of the restaurant, where a tall, handsome man just walked in. “That boy is prettier than Derek Jeter, but I hear he has mirrors and pictures of himself all over his bedroom. Ask Mindy.”

“Really, Tonya?” Mindy asks, eyes ablaze. “Are we airing our dirty laundry right now? Because I have a few things locked away about you.” Mindy taps her temple.

“Shit. You don’t have anything on me.” Tonya waves a hand at her.

I laugh, happy the conversation turned away from my family. I still have a few more weeks left in my assignment, and even that seems too soon to jump back into my old life. I still have more to prove to my family of overachieving workaholics.

On the drive back to my apartment, I decide to rip off the Band-Aid and call my parents. The ride home takes roughly ten minutes, so I have a built-in time limit.

“Y’ello,” Dad says. He’s greeted callers the same way my entire life. The corniness always makes me smile.

“Hey, Pops. What’s shakin’?” I ask.

“I’ve been texting you all day. Why haven’t you called?”

“I’ve been at work.”