Page 39

THIRTY-THREE

lauren

After Aunt Karen announces our victory, we emerge from the closet, blinking in the light, neither of us quite able to look the other in the eye.

We accept our first-place medals with hesitant smiles, but the real prize—or punishment, depending on how you look at it—was what happened in that small space.

Or rather, what didn’t happen.

Tate and I quietly go our separate ways after the game.

No discussion about what happened. No resolution.

Just one long look of yearning before he turns away—an unspoken agreement to never mention what transpired in that closet.

It’s only the second time we’ve almost kissed this week, and the pattern is impossible to ignore.

I need to keep my distance. Because that moment—with his breath grazing my ear, his body pressed against mine, his lips a heartbeat away—was the closest I’ve come to admitting what I feel for him.

And I can’t afford that risk. Not when I’ve spent my whole career chasing something bigger than the Crushers.

And not when his ex is asking to get together with him.

The NHL is the goal for both of us, and this relationship, no matter how real it’s starting to feel, isn’t going to get me there.

Maybe that’s the answer—finish the application for Kansas City and let the future sort itself out. When I think about going back to being his PR manager, knowing what I now understand about his past and how he must hate the spotlight I’ve pushed him into, the guilt eats at me.

And that’s exactly why I can’t forget why this was supposed to be pretend.

“I’m heading back to the cabin to work on a few things,” he says later, already heading out the back door of the lodge. No goodbye. No explanation. I’m starting to wonder what exactly he’s doing during these disappearances.

I spend the rest of the afternoon hiding in the sunroom, finishing the application for Kansas City.

When I finish, I take a deep breath and hit submit without hesitating.

Because if I think too hard about it, I’ll never do it.

And I’m a woman who makes things happen, not one who lets feelings derail her plans.

I’m choosing the future I’ve always wanted—practical, straightforward, and predictable.

In other words, safe .

I shut my laptop and head to the kitchen where I find Olivia loading the dishwasher.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you,” Olivia says. “Where’ve you been?”

“I was finishing up some things for work,” I say, taking out a pitcher from the fridge.

“I thought you said they would leave you alone for a week.”

“I wasn’t doing Crushers’ work,” I say, pouring a glass of lemonade. “But you have to promise to keep it a secret.”

She holds up a hand. “I swear.”

I glance around, then whisper loudly. “I submitted my application for the job in Kansas City.”

She blinks several times, her face falling slightly. “You applied already? I thought you were only considering it.”

“Applying doesn’t mean I got the job,” I say, taking a sip. “I haven’t even gotten an interview yet. ”

“No, but you will,” she says, turning toward the counter to wipe off crumbs. “They’d be crazy not to hire you.”

I shake my head. “I knew you’d respond like this.”

She glances over her shoulder. “Like what?”

“Like you’re happy for me as long as it doesn’t mess with our family.”

She blinks at me, stunned. “I am happy for you, Lauren. This”—she gestures to her strained smile—“ is my happy face.”

I squint. “You sure? Because you’re wearing the look of someone about to burst into tears or flip a table.”

“Okay. So maybe I’m just a little emotional about it.” Olivia gathers a few dirty napkins left on the counter and wads them into a ball. “You’re my sister. It means a lot to me to have you close. And I thought it meant something to you, too.”

“It does. But that doesn’t change my plans. You know that.”

I’ve been telling her for years that I’ll move once I get an NHL job, but apparently she thought that might not happen until much later—possibly never.

She sighs and goes back to wiping the counters. I touch her arm to get her to stop working. “You know, if I get the job, I’ll visit all the time.”

She turns to me. “Your job is not flexible. Not like you pretend like it is. And the NHL has even more pressure.” She shakes her head, and a crease forms between her brows. “Lauren, can you keep a secret?”

“Of course, Liv. What is it?” I take another sip of lemonade.

She hesitates, pressing her fingers to her forehead. When she drops her hand, she blurts, “I’m pregnant.”

The lemonade I’ve just swallowed goes down the wrong way, and I sputter, coughing out a “What?”

“I’m having a baby.” She frowns as I hack up a lung. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” I say, catching my breath. “The question is, are you? I thought you said you were done after Camden. ”

“Yeah, well, so did I,” she says dryly. “God has a sense of humor.”

“Then what happened?” I ask.

She tilts her head. “Do you really want to know how it happened?”

I hold up my hands, shaking my head furiously. “Wait—no. I know how it happens.”

“What can I say?” She shrugs. “Sometimes unexpected things happen.”

“But they never happen to you.”

My sister is the only person I know who has implemented her life plan just as she wanted it—married right after college, started a family two years after that, and said her family was complete after two kids.

“This wasn’t planned okay?” Her mouth twists as she looks away. I don’t need to remind her that her life plans just got torpedoed by a positive pregnancy test. She already knows. I just need to be the one who celebrates with her.

“A baby!” I reach for her hand and squeeze it. “This is wonderful news, Liv. I’m so happy for you.”

“But now you’re leaving right when I need you most.”

While I’ve been obsessing over my career and everything with Tate, my sister has been carrying this news alone.

“Hey,” I say gently. “I’m not going anywhere yet. And even if I do get this job, being an aunt is kind of my favorite gig.”

Olivia’s eyes fill with tears. “Really?”

“Are you kidding? Who else is going to teach this kid all the bad habits that drive you crazy?” I pull her into a hug. “You’re not in this alone, Liv. And Jake’s a fantastic dad.”

“That’s the other thing,” she says with a sigh, pulling away from me.

“Jake just got a promotion. His new position is going to involve more travel. I’m talking weeks away from home.

” She leans against the counter wearily.

“I don’t know how I’m going to handle everything myself.

When Mom was here, she could help me, but now…

” She begins to cry as she covers her face with her hands.

“Oh, Liv.” I move next to her and put my arm around her.

She tries to force a smile through her tears, but behind them is a woman who looks overwhelmed about the future.

Because as much as my sister will never admit it, we’re a lot alike.

Overachievers who can’t fail because everyone is counting on us not to.

“Come on.” I gently take her arm, guiding her toward the patio door, where we slip outside.

I take her to a pair of Adirondack chairs, and she slumps into one.

She wipes her eyes, looking out at the trees.

“Thanks. I didn’t want to tell everyone yet.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold it together.

” She laughs quietly, wiping her nose. “It’s not that I’m not happy.

I’m thrilled…but also so overwhelmed. Jake told me he can turn down the promotion, but I know how much he wants this.

And it means more income for our family—which, now that we’re having another baby, we really need. ”

She pauses, her lip trembling slightly. “I just wish Mom were here.”

“I know,” I say quietly. “You know Mom…she’d insist on moving in with you to become your personal nanny for a few months.”

“She would,” she says, laughing to herself. Then she looks over at me. “I’m sorry for making you feel guilty about the new job. When you told me, all I could think was how you were leaving me, just when I needed you the most.”

“Liv.” I take her hand. “We’ll figure it out. I want to be here for you. No matter what happens.”

But even as I say it, the weight on my chest feels suffocating. The NHL demands crazy hours, especially when it comes to PR emergencies. I feel like I’m making promises I might not be able to keep, no matter how good my intentions are.

A low distant rumble echoes across the sky, and Olivia looks at the dark clouds rolling in as the sun begins to go down .

“That sounds ominous,” she says, rising from her chair. “I think I’ll head inside. You coming?”

I shake my head. “Not yet.” My sister leaves me on the patio for a few minutes before somebody brushes my arm. When I turn around, Tate is standing behind me.

“I thought you hated storms,” he says as a few droplets start to fall.

“I do, but I’ve always found the calm before the storm to be good for thinking.”

He sits next to me, like he’s not in a hurry to go inside either. “What are you thinking about?”

“I can’t tell you,” I say, spinning my ring absently. “I promised my sister.”

He nods. “Oh, so we’ve reached the point in our relationship where you’re at least telling me you have a secret?”

I laugh and poke his arm. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

A low rumble fills the air, and the rains starts to fall harder, so we both push our chairs under the porch roof so we can watch the rainstorm without getting soaked.

When I look up, Dad and Patty appear at the edge of the wooded path, Dad holding his jacket over Patty’s head to shield her from the light rain that’s just started.

He’s laughing at something Patty said as they hurry toward the house, their shoulders bumping together in a comfortable way that reminds me of how he used to be with Mom.

My instinct is to look away, to avoid witnessing this intimate moment between them. But something stops me this time. The way Dad is looking at the woman next to him—he seems different, more alive than he’s been this entire year. There’s color in his cheeks again and he can’t stop smiling.

Maybe Tate was right. Maybe Dad can love Mom and still find room in his heart for someone new. The thought doesn’t sting as much as it would have a few days ago.

Dad sees me sitting on the patio and makes a point to come over.

“There’s my championship hide-and-seek winner,” he says with pride.

“That was some strategy you two pulled off today.” He glances back toward the path that leads to the cabin.

“Tate, you might want to check your cabin when you get back.”

“Is there a problem?” Tate asks, suddenly alert.

“When we hiked past it, the door was wide open,” Dad says. “Looked like someone had been inside.”

Tate looks concerned. “But I didn’t leave it open.”

“Are you sure?” Dad says.

“Positive,” Tate says. “I always double-check the lock.”

A cold feeling settles in my stomach. “It’s not like there’s anything worth stealing, right?” I say, trying not to think the worst.

Tate’s face drains of color. “My computer,” he says, rising so abruptly the chair scrapes against the patio. “I left it on the table. All my work is on there.”

Before I can even respond, he’s already sprinting toward the woods, disappearing between the trees.

“Work?” Dad asks, looking confused. “I thought you were both on vacation.”

I stare after Tate, a strange uneasiness washing over me. “I thought we were too.”