Page 37 of Rebel Secrets (Devils Hockey #3)

“I am.” She didn’t look happy about it, so that was something. “The bookstore’s open until eight. Saturday’s are always crazy, and Sunday, we have brunch and the bookstore’s open until five. Monday, I need to make sure everything’s set up before I leave on Wednesday for the wedding next weekend.”

When she finally stopped to take a breath, I bit back a smile.

“So how about next weekend?”

“Are you… Do you want… Wait. Are you saying you’ll come to the wedding with me?”

She looked flustered and unsure, almost like she thought I might be punking her. Which kinda pissed me off.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Rapid blinking. I couldn’t tell if she was trying not to cry, or she couldn’t get her brain to compute. “Seriously? It’s such late notice, and I’m sure you have other plans. I’m sorry we haven’t spoken about what happened at the bakery. I know you meant well. It’s just?—”

“Erin. I was serious. Every word I said, I meant. And yes, I want to go to the wedding with you.”

The visible relief on her face made something in my chest go soft, but I’d gotten kind of used to that happening around this woman. I think maybe she’d broken me.

No, that wasn’t right. She’d fixed a part of me I didn’t know was broken.

“Thank you. I just… Thank you.” Then she took a breath, and I braced for whatever was coming next.

“I have to leave Wednesday. The bridesmaids are having a bachelorette party Wednesday night I have to attend. Not that I want to, but it will look bad if I’m not there.

I know it’s a lot to ask, but the wedding is Friday night?—”

“I’ll be there.”

She looked afraid to be hopeful. “Don’t you start training next week?”

He shook his head. “It’s informal. Camp doesn’t start until September.”

I didn’t say which camp I was going to, because I needed to talk to a few people first. But after I did, she was next on the list.

And I hoped to hell it made a difference in the next phase of our relationship. Because, damn it, I wanted that next phase.

Her smile made my already fast-beating heart fill with a feeling I thought might be actual joy.

“Thank you, Rebel. I really appreciate you coming with me.”

I wanted to kiss her. My hand itched to wrap around her neck and pull her close. But it wouldn’t be fair to make a declaration like that publicly. At least, not yet.

I had to put things in place first. And I had a few people to talk to.

“Me, too. I’m looking forward to it.”

Saturday morning, Ian ambled into the kitchen and grabbed the coffee pot like it was a lifeline. His hair looked like he’d stuck his finger in a socket, and he had lines on his face from the pillowcase.

I’d been staring out the back window in the woods for probably fifteen minutes, wrestling with myself. But I knew what I was going to do.

“Hey, you got a minute?” I said.

Ian gulped down two swallows of black coffee and nodded.

“What’s up?”

I paused for a second, but I knew this was right.

“I’m not going back. To the Redtails.”

The kid’s expression went from barely awake to wide awake to miserable in the space of a couple seconds. Then he made a conscious effort to suck it up and smile.

“Hey, that’s great for you. I mean, I know you’ve been thinking about it, and I know you missed home and… Yeah.”

He petered out, like he couldn’t think of anything more positive to say.

“I’ve got a question for you.”

He nodded and shrugged at the same time, looking for all the world like I’d kicked his puppy.

“Are you happy in Reading?”

His head, which had been drooping, shook back and forth. Still didn’t look up at me.

“You want to play here?”

Now his head popped up, eyes wide. “Seriously?”

“We’re gonna have a couple of openings. I’m taking one. The other’s yours if you want it.”

He didn’t answer immediately. Then he started to smile.

Closing the distance between us, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and hugged the shit out of me. I hugged him back until he pulled away but kept a hand on his shoulder.

“I take it the answer is yes.”

He nodded. “Yes. Thank you, Reb. Really. I just… Thank you. When my dad said he didn’t want me to come home, I didn’t know what I was gonna do. I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Tread carefully. “Is there a reason he didn’t want you to come home?”

Ian’s mouth flattened into a straight line. “It’s complicated.”

“Most father-son relationships are.”

“Yours doesn’t seem to be.”

Again, I didn’t hear jealousy, just sadness.

“My senior year in college, I thought I was going to flunk out. I have depression and anxiety issues I’ve been dealing forever.”

Ian stared at me with wide eyes. “Seriously? You?”

“Yeah. But I only got help after I told my dad what was going on. I thought he’d be disappointed. I thought I was letting him down. It wasn’t until we talked that I realized he only wanted to help.”

Ian fell silent for several seconds.

“My dad’s got early onset Parkinsons,” he said. “He’s only in this forties, and it’s not too bad yet, but we know it’s going to get worse. I wanted to spend the summer at home. He said he didn’t want me wasting time mourning him while he was still alive.”

I thought about that, rolled it over in my head. “I’m sorry about your dad. That’s a tough situation.”

“It really fucking sucks.” Grief and anger interlaced in Ian’s voice. “I know there’s nothing I can do to change what’s happening, but…”

“It kinda sounds like your dad doesn’t want to burden you with his problems.”

“I thought he’d be happy I wanted to spend the summer at home.”

I suddenly realized why Ian’s dad had told him to spend the summer like he normally would. Vacationing with friends. Training. Development. Being a twenty-one-year-old. “He wants you to be happy and enjoy your life. I know it sounds harsh, but maybe he doesn’t want you to see him struggling.”

That’s why I hadn’t told my parents how badly I’d been struggling at college. I hadn’t wanted them to see me like that. I’d been young and stupid, and I’d needed help.

Ian’s dad probably thought this was the best for Ian.

“Have you talk to your dad since you’ve been here?”

Ian shook his head. “I’ve been too angry.” He sighed. “Do you really think that’s what’s going on?”

“The only way you’re going to know is if you call your dad. Talk to him. Tell him what’s going on with you.”

“And if he doesn’t want to talk to me?”

Pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen, but I didn’t want to give the kid false hope if I wasn’t right.

“Then we’ll talk about that later and come up with a new plan. But don’t worry about having a place to be. You’re welcome here for as long as you want to stay.”