Page 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

I ’ d always thought my self-restraint skills were above average, to say the least.

I’d never been the type to indulge in anything I deemed unnecessary. I got my ass to the gym every day. I never missed practice. I didn’t spend money on anything that wasn’t a necessity. There was nothing that caused me to slip up, to cave into my lesser urges.

At least there hadn’t been.

I’d tried to stay away from her. I’d really fucking tried. But apparently, my self-restraint only went so far when it came to the tiny blonde who had taken up residency in more than just my apartment.

She was like an infection that had spread inside me at a rapid pace. I thought about her when I wasn’t with her. I wanted to talk to her all the time. And worst of all, I was fucking terrified of her leaving.

It took me a minute to realize what the feeling was. I was worried.

I didn’t trust that she wouldn’t end up in some scummy place that she could barely afford. Or worse, she’d end up with some random, sketchy roommate.

Cassie was… delicate. I didn’t want her to end up with a random person who left messes in their apartment or brought strangers back to the place Cassie was living. It just wasn’t safe.

But what could I do? Beg her to live with me forever? No, I very well couldn’t, which left me with one option.

Convince her to postpone until we found somewhere actually suitable. Even though I’d made a big deal of it at the start, it wasn’t awful having her here. I didn’t mind waiting as long as it took for her to find a safe, affordable apartment.

She had a free place to live, and I could rest assured that she wasn’t getting abducted by some guy off Craigslist.

I’d handled it shitty, I couldn’t deny that. And I’d been half expecting Cassie to freeze me out afterward or, at the very least, show some type of sign that she was pissed.

But she hadn’t.

The next morning, it was like it had never happened. I came out of my room, made our coffee, and waited for her to come down for breakfast.

I’d been prepared to apologize in a way that made my palms sweaty and my body tense. I wasn’t in the habit of apologizing. Even when I knew I should. But I couldn’t stand the idea of Cassie being mad at me. Or the thought that she might be pissed enough to leave because I’d way overstepped my place in her life by telling her she couldn’t move into any of those places.

But when she came downstairs, to my utter shock, she smiled at me, said good morning like usual, and started pouring herself a bowl of cereal.

“Ah,” she squealed, seeing the coffee I’d poured into her mug. “Thank you so much! I told you that you didn’t have to do this every day.”

For a minute, I was too stunned to say anything; I just watched her as she went about her routine before sitting at the counter to eat. I went over toward her with an added tension to my step, as if at any moment she might remember she was mad at me.

“You’re being weird,” she said, furrowing her brows, mid-bite of cereal.

“Am I?” I shook off the feeling, deciding if she wasn’t going to mention it, I sure as hell didn’t want to be the one to bring up the awkwardness again. Not when I couldn’t fully explain my reasoning behind it in the first place.

She was twenty-four years old. She had a right to live wherever she wanted.

For some reason, I sure as hell didn’t want to remind her of that either.

“Yeah, you are,” she said, her eyes following me. “You’re pacing. Are you worried about something? Hockey?”

I laughed softly, amazed at how quickly what I thought had been a fight between us had been brushed off. “No, I’m not worried about hockey.”

“Well, maybe you’re hungry,” she said, gesturing toward the seat beside her. “Come sit down and have breakfast.”

“Is this how you talk to your Kindergartners?” I asked with a smirk but did as she said anyway.

“Only when they’re acting hangry.” She scrunched her nose in a playful tease at me, gulping down the coffee. “Oh my gosh! I forgot to tell you yesterday—”

And then she launched into a series of stories about her workday, the way I’d gotten used to her doing almost every day. She would tell me things the kids said, the way they said them, and the intricate backstories of the kids’ lives in order for me to understand the significance of the story.

I felt like I’d gotten to know the personalities of all of these five-year-olds I’d never met just by the way Cassie brought them to life with her stories.

I smiled as she continued. “And then, my coworker said, ‘I almost got a speeding ticket getting here today!’ and Connor said, ‘My dad got a speeding ticket on his way to the beer store!’” Cassie spoke through a fit of giggles as if she were reciting the words of a great comedian rather than her five-year-old student.

“You really love them, huh?” I asked, staring at her in awe.

“So much,” she gushed. “I love that I get to be a part of shaping their first experience with the world outside their homes. I get to see them grow and change and form their first friendships. Gosh, I can’t even talk about it—” she said, wiping a tear from her eye as she smiled.

“They’re lucky to have you,” I told her honestly. “Not many people are suited to work with kids.”

“I can’t understand why!” she said, “They’re the most wholesome population in our society. And I get the incredible privilege of teaching them how to be good people in the world. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have the job I have.”

“I don’t know if all teachers feel the same,” I said, thinking back to some of the more hardened teachers I’d had growing up.

“Well, yeah. It can be a lot. The pay sucks. I mean, sometimes I have to choose between putting gas in my car and buying stuff for the classroom. It’s rough. There have been more than a few times I’ve driven to school on fumes, praying that I’ll make it till payday.” She chuckled as if the situation were humorous.

I felt my jaw clench, the idea of her struggling to that degree unsettling something inside me.

As long as she was here, I wouldn’t let her go without. She wouldn’t have to worry about anything like that.

I would’ve told her as much, but her words kept spilling out of her, the excitement evident in the way her body nearly vibrated with it.

“Gosh, I can’t wait to have my own kids.” She sighed wistfully.

“Yeah?” I asked, curious. “You want kids?”

“Of course.” She stared at me with those big blue eyes. “I’d have a whole bunch if I could. It’s all I ever wanted!”

I grinned at the idea of it. A bunch of little Cassie’s jumping around the place.

But then, all the excitement inside of her deflated like a balloon being popped right as it was expanding. Her eyes shifted, staring off into the distance.

“But who knows?” she said nonchalantly. “Maybe it’s not in the cards for me. At least I have my kiddos at school.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” I asked, hating the way her bubbliness morphed into some weird, insincere masking of her excitement.

“I mean, it just depends on how life goes. The whole breakup kind of threw a wrench in all my plans. Who knows if I’ll meet someone who actually likes me enough to want all that with someone like me?”

Her words were like a bucket of ice water, freezing me in place.

How could she even think that? Did Dave really screw her up so badly that she thought she might never meet someone who liked her? Honestly, she’d have a harder time finding someone who didn’t absolutely fall for her the moment they met her.

I could’ve told her all of that. I wanted to. But I was stuck on something else she’d said.

“What do you mean, someone like you?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of a lot.” She laughed, trying to pass it off as a joke, as if I couldn’t see beneath the surface of it. “Too much for most people.” She shrugged.

“What the hell does that mean? ‘Too much?’”

“I’m overly emotional.” She held out a finger, preparing to count out her flaws to me. “I get too loud when I’m excited. I get excited too often. I’m kind of clingy—” She paused. “And the list goes on.”

“Are you serious right now?” I stared at her in disbelief.

She laughed as if about to brush it off once more, but I wasn’t about to let her get away with that. Not this time.

“Cassie,” I said intently, staring into huge blue eyes, willing her to understand what I was about to say. “Do you have any fucking idea what people would do to have someone like you in their lives? Do you even realize how rare it is to find someone as alive as you?”

“, you don’t have to—” she stuttered. Her cheeks burned, and she looked as if she wanted to disappear, but I wasn’t done.

“No.” I shook my head, not letting her escape this. “You think being emotional is a bad thing? It’s not. You let yourself feel the whole spectrum of emotions that come along with life. Do you understand how brave that is? That instead of shutting yourself down or shutting the world out, you just deal with it?”

She stared at me, mouth slightly agape.

“You’re a lot more real than anyone I’ve ever met,” I said honestly. “And if anyone doesn’t like that, it’s probably because they’re terrified of seeing all the ways they’re lacking when they have to look at themselves compared to you. Okay?”

“Well,” she said, staring anywhere but at me in a way that made me want to grab her chin and give me back those blue eyes—to make her accept the truth of my words. “At least I know I’ll always have the approval of my best friend’s big brother.”

Her words extinguished whatever fire had been burning inside of me. I’d forgotten who we were to each other. Forgotten that she was relying on me to be a safe space for her for a while and nothing more.

She thought she was too much? Jesus, I’d just basically serenaded her against her will. I was ridiculous.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt as passionate about anything other than hockey. How was it possible that this girl was breaking down every single wall I’d constructed over the years, demolishing them with a single, wide-eyed gaze?

“Right,” I said, straightening. “Did you talk to Maggie about coming to the game with you?”

Cassie squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes focused on the soggy clumps of cereal she pushed around in the bowl.

“What is it?” I asked, fear taking hold of me. Did she not want to come anymore? Was she busy? Did she have a date lined up?

What the fuck does it matter if she does? I forced myself not to grit my teeth at my inner monologue. It took all the strength I could muster to remain neutral.

“I know this isn’t my place,” she said, staring timidly up at me. “Like, at all—”

“Tell me,” I urged.

“I just think you should be the one to ask Maggie to come to the game.”

Whatever I thought she was going to say, I sure as hell didn’t expect it to be about my sister.

“Me?” I asked dubiously.

“I mean, I just know that she misses you a lot, and she feels really bad about that fight you guys had the other day.”

I groaned, rubbing a hand over my face. “You know about that?” I asked stupidly.

Of course she does. She’s Maggie’s person. Not mine. I was stupid for forgetting that.

“Yeah, I mean, just a little bit,” she said sheepishly. “I just think it would mean a lot to her for you guys to smooth things over. And I have the feeling she’s too stubborn to be one to reach out first.”

I snorted. “You know my sister well.”

Cassie smiled.

“So, will you?” She stared at me in a way that made me want to give her whatever the hell she wanted, no matter the cost.

I nodded. “I’ll talk to her.”

Cassie exhaled a sigh of relief as if she was worried I would say no, and I wondered just how much she cared about my sister to make her worry about the state of our relationship.

“Thank you, ,” Cassie said, locked in eye contact with me for a moment before she pulled her gaze away.

I watched her stand up and walk to the sink, watched as she washed her bowl and set it to dry. Then she was gone, back upstairs to get ready for the day.

I sat, reeling in the aftermath of that conversation, which for some reason felt more weighted than I understood.

Maggie, I thought.

Smoothing things over would take more than a text or a phone call. It was the type of conversation that needed to be had in person.

I sighed, realizing that I wasn’t going to escape the morning without having to face the awkward groveling of an apology, after all.

Maggie was a lot smarter than most people would guess or give her credit for.

She always had been, even when we were kids. She was fast-thinking, sharp, and witty. She always had an answer to anything someone could throw at her, and she never backed down from an argument. It was annoying, really. But it was one of the reasons she excelled at what she did.

As a lawyer, Maggie had made a career out of being a relentless pain in the ass, and in all honesty, she had done really well for herself.

Our mother had despaired at Maggie’s choice of career, claiming that all lawyers were cold, ruthless workaholics who were only in it for the money. Maggie had proved her wrong on almost every account, choosing to practice family law, specifically cases of trying to reunite families or working out arrangements to grant higher visitation rights to parents who wanted to be part of their child’s life.

But there was one thing my mother got right—Maggie was a workaholic, throwing herself into every case and not wasting a second before picking up the next. Some people would put it down as passion for her work, but sometimes I wondered if it wasn’t something else.

But whatever the reason for her insane hours, it kept her very busy. Meaning, I knew if I wanted to see her, I’d have to go directly to her office, whether she wanted me there or not.

“I’m here to see Maggie,” I said to the receptionist, clearing my throat awkwardly as I took in the orderly, polished scene around me.

Business attire, fast-moving people, and sounds everywhere. Phones ringing, the printer going off, and the incessant sound of the receptionist clicking away at her keyboard.

In a way, it seemed so ill-fitting for Maggie to be here in this cold, sterile space.

But then again, Maggie had always been able to adapt to anything.

“Sorry, who?”

“Maggie Brynn?”

“Oh.” She typed away, eyes still glued to her screen as she spoke. “You mean Margaret.”

I snorted. I was pretty sure the only time someone had referred to Maggie as Margaret was the day our mother had to tell the nurse what to write on the birth certificate. But every moment after that, she’d just been Maggie.

“I guess so,” I said anyway.

Finally, she looked up, eyes flickering with something I recognized as she turned her full attention to me.

“And you are?” she asked, a new flirtatious lilt to her voice.

“Here to see Maggie,” I repeated, unwilling to engage in any of the bullshit.

“Are you her—”

“Brother,” I repeated firmly, with a finality in my tone that I hoped would shut down any further questions. “Is she here?”

I looked around, figuring I apparently needed to find her myself, but all I saw were women trying their best to sneak glances in our direction, not as covertly as I assumed they hoped to be.

“Yes, she’s here,” the receptionist said, making no move to find her. “Are you-?”

“ Brynn?” One bold woman dared to approach. “You’re him, right? From the Harbor Wolves?”

I gritted my teeth.

“I’m just here to see my sister,” I said, putting up my best attempt at politeness. “Does anyone know where I can find her?”

“Who’s your sister?” the daring woman asked.

“Margaret.” The receptionist shot her a knowing look.

“Margaret never told us you’re her brother.”

I thought it was irrelevant but offered a shrug.

“Big brothers can be embarrassing.”

The girl laughed, grabbing my arm in a familiar way that had me inching away.

“In fact, I actually think she confirmed you weren’t related at all… but what are the chances of that? Two Brynns in Boston with no relation to each other?” She laughed airily, her perfume filling the space between us.

Everything about her made me itch to escape, just like I felt around the rest of the women like this, who always proved to make themselves unavoidable. I wondered if they’d do this if I weren’t a famous hockey player. I wondered if they’d still care.

But still, her words twisted something inside of me. I get Maggie not broadcasting our relationship to the world, but straight up denying it? Why the hell would she do that?

“ ? ” Maggie appeared from behind a corner, her brown hair twisted up, dressed impeccably in a way that seemed to match the atmosphere of the building.

“Thank God,” I muttered, pulling away from the handsy woman. “Hey, Mags.”

“What are you doing here?” she said, high heels clicking against the floor as she made her way toward me.

“I wanted to talk to you,” I said at the same time the woman said, “Why didn’t you tell us you have a famous brother?”

Maggie stared at the woman who watched us with evasive eyes, irritation spreading across Maggie’s features.

“Because my brother has nothing to do with my work here,” she retorted, her lips pursed in the way they used to before she’d erupt when we were kids.

“Because he’s, like, a local celebrity,” the woman countered. “You could’ve at least mentioned it.”

“Why would I?” Maggie’s eyes narrowed on her coworker, waiting for a valid answer to her question.

The woman’s laughter faded as if just realizing Maggie wasn’t prepared to entertain a back-and-forth with her, and then she excused herself from our presence.

“Come on,” Maggie said to me, irritation still lingering. “Let’s go talk somewhere private.”

I followed her down a hall filled with windows until she led me to a door with her name brandished on a plaque in front of it.

“Impressive,” I said, gesturing toward it.

“It’s not the NHL, but it matters to me.” She shrugged before going inside and leaning against her desk.

What the hell?

“So, why are you here, ?” she asked with crossed arms, apparently still pissed.

Cassie had made it sound like her anger had worn off a bit, but of course, Maggie wouldn’t have been aggressive toward her . Cassie softened people and made them forget why they were upset. Me? I just made them remember. Now it was clear whatever reunion Cassie had been hoping for was going to take a little work on my part.

“I wanted to talk about the other day,” I said, feeling stiff and awkward in Maggie’s space. The look in her eyes felt like arrows aimed at me.

“The day when you showed up at my apartment, told me I was an idiot for wanting a relationship with my father, and then left?” She stared at me unblinkingly. “Is that the day you’re referring to, ?”

I cleared my throat. “Yes?”

“Then talk,” she said with a resolute jut to her chin.

For fuck’s sake, the women in my life were the most stubborn ones alive.

“I handled it badly,” I admitted, the feeling of apologizing foreign in my throat. “I shouldn’t have gone off like that. It’s just… we haven’t mentioned him in years, Mags. It took me off guard. I had a knee-jerk reaction.”

“So, you’re excusing your behavior?”

“No,” I said, jaw clenching. “I’m just trying to explain why it happened.”

“And now?” she said, willing me to continue.

“Now, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for how it happened. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She blinked, her hardened features smoothing away to something resembling disbelief.

“You’re… sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.”

We sat in silence, eyes locked on each other. A moment passed, then another, and then finally, Maggie let out a laugh.

“Maggie?” I asked, slightly unnerved by the reaction.

“I can’t believe it took you twenty-six years before you learned how to apologize for something,” she said, looking as if she was fighting back another giggle.

I stiffened.

“And, really, it wasn’t very good. Just so you know. But I appreciate the sentiment behind it.”

“So,” I said warily. “You’re not mad?”

“I mean.” She shrugged. “I’m a little mad, but you’re my brother. I’m not going to waste time holding a grudge against you.”

“Yeah.” I sighed in relief. I didn’t want to have any weird tension between me and Maggie, and I was suddenly relieved that Cassie had convinced me to do this.

And while we were clearing the air, I dared to ask, “Why did you tell them we weren’t related?” I asked, nodding my head toward the door.

“Oh, that?” she said, her voice sounding guilty. “You saw them. One person finds out you’re my brother, and suddenly, every woman in the vicinity is dropping hints on what great sisters-in-law we’d be.”

Jesus Christ, some people were weird as hell.

But I wasn’t buying that excuse. At least not entirely.

“Maggie.” I fixed her with a look. “Tell me the truth.”

She stared back at me, her green eyes a mirror of my own, before she finally heaved a sigh.

“Fine,” she admitted. “I guess I just hate being known only as Brynn’s sister. I’ve had my identity linked to you my entire life. Even before you got famous.”

“Bullshit,” I argued. “You’ve always been your own person. Everyone always talks about how you couldn’t be any more different than me.”

“Right, but even then, I’m still talked about in relation to you. Sometimes I just want to stand on my own, you know? Be looked at for who I am and what I’m doing, not how I compare to you.”

“I’m sorry, Mags,” I said, now feeling some guilt of my own. “I didn’t realize it was like that for you.”

“Two apologies in one day?” She feigned a dramatic gasp. “What is the world coming to?”

I laughed, shaking my head at her theatrics.

“But the thing about the woman flocking to me over you was still true. And just so you know, I don’t want a creepy sister-in-law, okay?”

“Well, lucky for you, I don’t have a wife.”

“Yeah, well. Keep it in mind for the future.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to run her by you before any proposals are made.”

“As you should.” She laughed, and the air around us felt lighter. Easier to breathe. But I knew if I really wanted to get the point across that I cared, I’d have to make it a little uncomfortable again.

“So,” I said, about to detonate the carefully constructed peace. “Did you see him?”

I held my breath, waiting for her answer.

“Yeah, I did,” she said, a slight smile creeping across her face.

“Good.” I nodded. “I’m glad if that’s what you wanted. For closure.”

“He really wants to see you, ,” she said, causing me to scoff. “Please, . Just one dinner?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But—”

I cut her off. “Maggie, you can do whatever you want, and I’m sorry I was such a dick about it. But I have no desire to ever see that man again for the rest of my life.”

Maggie’s face deflated as if, somehow, my words were still a shock to her.

“Don’t you think you’re being overly harsh?” she appealed.

“He left us, Maggie. And now that we’re grown and don’t need anything from him, he suddenly wants to be back in our lives? He never even paid child support, Mags,” I emphasized, trying to show her not only was he absent but also a deadbeat on top of it all.

“That’s on Mom for never going after him about it!” she cried as if my words were an insult to her rather than the guy who abandoned us all.

“No the fuck it’s not,” I retorted. “Don’t you see how screwed up it is? That a man can just walk out on his kids, on his wife, and not even worry about how they’re going to get by without him? If I had a—” I stopped myself. It was irrelevant. “He fucked up, Mags. And I don’t have to forgive him for it, even if you want to.”

“Fine,” she said with more of a bite than I hoped, but still, I felt the acceptance behind it.

“So, are we good?” I asked, hoping she wouldn’t hold this against me, not after we’d already made amends.

“I suppose.” She heaved a dramatic sigh but then rolled her eyes in a way that told me I’d been forgiven.

I exhaled in relief, glad to have mended one of the only two familial relationships I still had in my life.

“I really am sorry, you know,” I said. “That I’ve been so closed off. It’s nothing personal.”

“That’s just you.” She shrugged as if it was something she’d accepted long ago. “But I really appreciate the effort you’ve been making lately. I mean, letting Cassie move in has been so huge, and I know you did it for me, so it means a lot.”

“No problem,” I responded, suddenly tense but trying to shrug it off.

I didn’t know why the topic had me squirming. It wasn’t like I had anything to hide. But Maggie had a sixth sense for detecting bullshit, and I didn’t want her examining me too closely right now.

“But it doesn’t seem like you mind her too much, right?” she asked, hope glimmering in her eyes.

“No,” I said. “I don’t mind her.”