Page 11

Eleven

Henry

“I don’t want to wear this,” Bodhi whines, trying to unbutton the top button of his dress shirt.

“Everyone else will be wearing something similar.” I wrap the tie around his neck and lower his hands to his side.

“It’s itchy,” he whines.

“Come on. You’re the one who always wants to be on time. If you keep fighting me, we’ll be late.” I try to tie his tie quickly, realizing that I should’ve tied it and then put it on him because tying a tie on someone else isn’t as easy as the movies make it look.

“Micha was jealous, Daddy. He asked if I slept at school because I got there so early again.” He laughs.

It’s the best sound in the world.

“I think I get dad points for being early two days in a row.”

It wasn’t easy, but I realized I needed to stop dwelling on the Jade thing. She has my number too and hasn’t used it either. Maybe this is our new normal. Maybe we’ll be in the same city and never see one another. Not act on our longing for one another. I hate it, but addressing all our issues and realizing nothing will ever change for us isn’t a conversation I want to have.

“For sure, Daddy.” He stares at me while I concentrate on the knot of his tie, making it as perfect as I can.

There’s something in his eyes tonight… it’s the same look he gets when he’s pulling a prank. Like the time he was waiting for me to pee because Tweetie told him to put Saran Wrap on the toilet. But unless he decides to embarrass himself at the concert tonight, I can’t think of what kind of prank he could be planning.

“There you go. All done.” I squeeze his shoulder then lower him off the bathroom counter. His hands immediately go to the tie. “I get it, but you only have to wear it for a few hours. Right after the concert, you can take off the tie and unbutton your shirt, I promise.”

“How do you wear these things all the time?” He walks out of the bathroom, and it strikes me how fast my time with him is going. One minute he can barely string sentences together and now look at him.

“When you’re an adult, you get used to it. Hey, I’m going to do your birthday invites this week. I think we should invite the whole class, so no one feels left out.”

“The girls too?” he groans.

“Yeah. You’re the new kid this year, so let’s make some friends.”

He blows out a breath and sits on the bench by the front door, his legs stretched out in front of him, slouched with his head against the wall.

“At your age, my best friend was a girl,” I tell him, hoping to get him to understand that boy or girl, a friend is a friend.

Then again, with the predicament I’m in now, maybe I should steer him to only be friends with boys.

“I knnnoooww.” He rolls his eyes at me as though he’s heard this a thousand times before.

I grab my jacket, not exactly happy I have to dress up too, put my keys and wallet in my pockets, then open the door, waiting for him to leave the condo. We step into the common stairway that leads to all the condos in the building, and sure enough, everyone else is walking down the concrete steps.

Rowan’s in slacks and a button-down, Kyleigh’s in a dress, Conor’s wearing a sweater and slacks, and good ol’ Tweetie is in jeans, casual shoes, and a white T-shirt with a jacket over the top.

“I better keep Kyleigh close tonight,” Rowan says, grabbing his girlfriend’s hand. “Bodhi, love the attire.”

“You look so handsome.” Kyleigh unwinds her hand, bending down to Bodhi’s level. “This tie is awesome.” She leans in. “You should dress all the Falcons on game day.”

Bodhi beams up at Kyleigh per usual.

“Sorry, Rowan.” Kyleigh takes Bodhi’s hand, and they walk down the steps together.

“Your kid is a cockblocker,” Rowan whispers, following them.

“I didn’t realize you were all coming,” I say as Conor and Tweetie pass me with pats on the back.

“It’s Bodhi’s big night. What else would we do?” Tweetie says over his shoulder, jogging down the steps.

“We can’t be late, let’s go.” Conor waves.

It’s nice to have them here. Sure, I have Reed, Victoria, the twins, but they’re a family of their own. Both of them work, and the boys are busy with hockey. So, this little found family with the guys is really good for both of us. And the fact they don’t have to go, they aren’t blood-related to us, but they’re coming because they want to, means a hell of a lot. Most of all, I’m happy that Bodhi has them.

I blow out a breath and watch them all leave through the security gate, my heart growing two fucking sizes like the damn Grinch on Christmas morning.

A half hour later—because of Friday night traffic in the city—we all file out of our Uber XL in front of Bodhi’s school. The parents and kids trickling in keep taking quick glances at us. I’m sure we look a little odd with four professional hockey players, one woman, and a kid. Jesus, I’m probably the center of the gossip mill. Maybe they all think we’re in some gang-bang situation with Kyleigh.

“So, Bodhi, what’s your teacher like?” Tweetie asks, and we all collectively groan.

The last thing I need is Tweetie fucking Bodhi’s teacher. “She’s pregnant and married,” I say, stopping his mind from going to places it needs to stay away from.

“She’s not pregnant,” Bodhi says, pushing his finger between his collar and the knot of his tie, tugging. “This thing is strangling me.”

I decide to ignore Bodhi’s continued whining about his clothes, so we don’t get into it right before his concert.

“Yes, she is.” I ruffle his hair as we climb the stairs to the school.

“No, she isn’t,” Bodhi says.

The rest of them snicker and laugh as they always do when we go at each other. I’m glad my kid doesn’t back down, but I need to keep reminding him I’m the parent.

“Stop lying.”

He’s not usually a liar, but he would’ve told me if she’d had the baby. That would have been the first thing he told me when he got home.

“I’m not. She had her baby last night. I have a new teacher now.”

“Really? Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” I ask, stopping us at the end of the hallway Bodhi needs to go down to get ready for the concert.

I fix Bodhi’s tie since he’s mangled it with his persistent pulling and run my fingers through his hair. Shit, how did I miss the grape jelly stain from his sandwich on his face? I squat and lick my thumb and run it over the corner of his cheek to remove the jelly. It’s not like I have a wipe on me.

“Dude, did you just lick your thumb and wipe his cheek?” Conor asks.

He’ll understand when he has a kid. If he ever has a kid.

“He does that shit all the damn time,” Tweetie says.

“Wait until you’re a parent, okay?” I look up at all of them briefly.

“I didn’t think about it.” Bodhi waves to some kid he knows. His mouth opens, and he points down the hall. “There she is, Dad.”

My back is turned, and I’m squatted down to Bodhi’s level. I run my thumb over the persistent spot once more.

Tweetie laughs obnoxiously.

Conor snickers.

Kyleigh coos.

Rowan’s gaze moves to me and back up behind me.

I’m guessing the new teacher is attractive. But Tweetie’s not fucking the substitute either.

“Miss Jade, wanna meet my dad?” Bodhi raises his hand and waves.

Jade isn’t a common name, and from everyone’s reactions, I instantly know it has to be her. A million questions fill my brain as once again, I stand and turn, coming face-to-face with her.

“I already know your dad, Bodhi.” Jade lifts her hand, clearly not surprised to see me. “Your dad and I met when we were about your age. Hi, Henry.”

“You can’t make this shit up,” Tweetie says.

I’m speechless, unsure how to react. She’s a teacher? When did she become a teacher?

Bodhi nudges my arm. “Say hi, Daddy.”

“Yeah, Daddy, say hi,” Conor says.

Jade’s gaze leaves mine to flit to Conor for a second.

“We’ll get Bodhi to the room he needs to go to. Come on, bud,” Rowan says, holding out his hand to Bodhi.

I still can’t find any words.

Kyleigh starts to walk with Rowan and Bodhi but stops and turns around. “Hey boys, let’s go.” She motions for Tweetie and Conor to follow.

“We don’t have to do everything together,” Conor says, staying put.

Kyleigh walks back, grabs the sleeve of her brother’s jacket, and tugs him forward. “Right now, we do.”

Tweetie and Conor can’t stop looking over their shoulders at us, cracking jokes and looking as if they belong in the seventh grade, and it’s my first time talking to a girl.

“So, you’re a teacher?” I ask, finally finding my voice.

She giggles. She fucking giggles. With no heads-up that she was Bodhi’s new teacher after Mrs. McConnell had her baby.

“Sorry.” She giggles again. “It’s just weird. I didn’t know Bodhi went here. Since no one needs my help at the house during the day, I wanted something to do during the day. Reed mentioned this position was available, which now that I’m thinking about it, it’s odd that he didn’t give me a heads-up, too, no?”

My first question is why she’s teaching and not doing what she’s been doing for the last few years. The entire reason she couldn’t stay here with me was because she needed to explore the world and her love of photography. So, I’m really confused right now.

“Don’t you think?” she asks, prompting me when I don’t say anything.

“Bodhi just started here this year. I said something to Reed, but it was brief, and he’s really been occupied with that case, Victoria’s surgery, and the boys. Maybe it slipped his mind.” I doubt Reed or anyone in the Warner house would try to set us up, knowing what the repercussions would be.

“Oh, well, that makes sense. He’s rarely been home since I got there.” She shrugs and her laughter stops.

She looks gorgeous in a dress that’s conservative enough for a Catholic school event but also molds to her curves. Her dark hair is a little wavy, and all I want to do is mess it up in a heavy make-out session in the storage room.

“Are you just covering Mrs. McConnell for her maternity leave?”

A few families walk by, taking their kids to the room where they are all convening. Some glance our way, but I’m used to the looks, as if they’re asking one another, is that Henry Hensley? Or damn, he looks familiar.

“Yeah, it should wrap up around the time I plan to leave.” She looks behind her. “I should really get going. Second day on the job, and I’m already slacking off.” She laughs, and her hand touches my bicep, warmth seeps through the fabric of my jacket and shirt. “He’s a really great kid by the way. You’ve done an amazing job.” With a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, she walks down the hall.

Fuck, okay, I can handle this. She’s my kid’s teacher. But it’s not like I have to be in constant contact with her. It’s only going to be three months at the most. It took me a lot to make it to the national league, so surely I can get through this. In a few months, she’ll be gone, and we can go on with our lives. I just need to make sure my son doesn’t get attached. And I really need to make sure I don’t fuck the substitute.