Page 15

15

Kalen

“ S he’s coming for dinner?” I ask Taylor for the third time. “Tonight? I know she said she was helping you with your lines, but she didn’t say anything to me about dinner when I ran into her today.”

“Kalen, yes, I told you she was. I invited her a little while ago, after you ran into her, and she said yes. I told her you were cooking.” She plants one hand on her hips. “Can I set the table or are you not done interrogating me?”

“She likes this kind of wine?” I hold up the bottle of red to read the label.

Taylor laughs. “I told you she did. What’s wrong with you, big brother? Did you take one too many hits to the head at practice today?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“So, it’s not that you’re interested in my friend?”

Shit.

“No.” I grab Taylor and put her in a headlock, running my knuckles over her head, lightly of course. She pinches my side, and I yelp and let her go.

She smooths her long hair back, and flicks it over her shoulders. “What if I said I didn’t believe you weren’t interested in her?”

“She’s your friend and if she’s coming to help you, the least I can do is make a nice meal.”

“You know it’s okay if you do like her, right?”

Ignoring that, because she doesn’t know that bad tension between Sahara and me could come between their friendship, I pick up the wooden spoon, dip it into my homemade spaghetti sauce and hold it out to Taylor to taste.

She moans and closes her eyes. She glances upward. “Thank you, Grandma, for teaching this man how to cook.”

“Good?”

“Excellent.” She reaches for the plates, and pulls them from the cupboard. “I miss Grandma.” Her voice is low, a deep longing lingering in her words.

“Me too.” A moment of silence, which means she has something on her mind. “What?”

She begins to place the four plates onto the table. “Dad messaged me?”

I set the spoon down. I try to be mature and in control whenever she mentions Dad. It’s not always easy and even though I don’t want him having any influence over her, there’s a part of me that knows a girl needs her father. I can only fill that role so much.

“What did he want?”

“He asked about the holidays. Asked if we might want to visit him for Thanksgiving this year.”

My breath comes a little faster. “I thought you and I were going to have Thanksgiving here.” Shit, I don’t want to put pressure on her, or keep her from her father. “Taylor, if you want to go see Dad, you should.”

“He and Miles bought a new house.”

“He…he sold the family home?” I pinch my eyes shut, and squeeze the bridge of my nose as happy childhood memories flood my brain. “He didn’t…why did he do that?” I know I don’t go home, but the thoughts of never seeing my old bedroom, where Mom read to me as a child, is like a hard puck to the gut.

Her fingers are a bit shaky as she curls her hair around her finger. Dammit, I hate that she’s nervous to talk about Dad with me. I don’t want that for her. “Dad and Miles want to start making new memories. They bought Mrs. Williams’ house after she passed, not too far from our old place. I’ve always liked that place, but I’m not sure I want to go without you.” She moves the plate around on the placemat, centering it, but I suspect she just needs something to do with her hands.

Just hearing the name Miles brings back memories I wish I could vanquish from my brain. I’m just glad Taylor didn’t walk in on them, and is oblivious to what really went down. All she knows is that there was tension between us.

“You should go.”

“If I do, I’d want to go with you.” She lifts her gaze, her big blue eyes, so full of vulnerability and loss, meeting mine. “I want to be with you for the holidays.”

I step up to her and pull her in for a hug. “I want that too, T. Let me think about it, okay?”

“Kalen, I need to tell you something.” She inches back and pushes the chairs out for us to sit. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I suddenly feel like I’m going to be ill.

I drop into a chair, and she sits, facing me. Her eyes hold so much sorrow and pain, my stomach twists and I take her hand. “Taylor?”

She glances down, stares at our hands for a second, worry radiating from her body. “I know what happened.”

I take a fast breath. Surely to fucking God she’s not talking about Dad and Miles. No, she can’t know that. I protected her from that.

“Taylor?” I say again, doing a shitty job of keeping my voice level. “What do you know?”

Her eyes lift to mine, and I see love and forgiveness mixed with the worry from earlier. “I know what Dad did. I know he was involved with Miles when Mom was sick.”

I push back in my chair, my stomach churning harder now. “Jesus, Taylor. I’m so sorry. I thought…I didn’t want…You were too young.”

“Kalen,” she says firmly, centering me back to our conversation. “You’re right. I was too young. Too young to really understand what was going on when it happened, and I didn’t talk to you because you were so angry. What Dad did was so incredibly wrong. As I grew up and started to live life, and I saw loss and grief and even love all around me, I realized that back then Dad was hurting, badly. He reached out to a man he loved for comfort during a difficult time and?—”

“No,” I burst out. “He cheated on Mom when she was sick.” And I couldn’t fucking protect my mother from it, and that guts me to this day.

“I know. I’m not saying what he did was right. I’m not. After we moved, I spent years trying to understand why he did what he did. He loved Mom, and he loved us, Kalen. You have to know that. Don’t you remember him taking me to ballet and acting classes and you to the rink every day, even when Mom was sick? He made sure you got to practice and games, all while he worked full time. He was doing all the cooking, cleaning, laundry and he was exhausted, and alone, and…scared.” She swallows a big sob as she puts her hand on my heart. “You can’t keep this pain inside you. It’s messing you up whether you realize it or not. It’s keeping you from living the life you should be living.”

I shake my head, the anger inside me still so strong, it’s blocked out any good memories. “I…Taylor…” A sob wells up in my throat, and as I fight it off, pain radiates down my neck.

She leans into me and hugs me as she swallows a big sob and she puts her hand on my heart. “I’m not sure you’re okay in here, Kalen.”

“I’m okay,” I lie. I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay in a very long time. At least when I’m on the ice I can forget about all this crap. But when the game is over and the guys go off to their wives and families, that loneliness, wanting what they have, washes back over me like a tsunami.

Her lips turn down in a frown. “I’m sorry for bringing this up right now, just before dinner, and Sahara coming. We just don’t have a lot of quiet time anymore.” I’m about to apologize, assure her that I’ll find more time for her, but she holds her hands up and makes light of it. “I have a very overbearing brother, so I’m not saying I don’t appreciate my space, I do, and I know you’re overbearing because you love me.” I smile at that. “I just thought it was time to talk.”

I nod. She’s not wrong. “Okay.”

“I’m not asking you to forgive him, I’m only asking for you to find a way past the hurt and anger, and maybe try to find understanding. For your own sake.”

I shake my head. “My God, when did you get so smart?”

“I have an awesome big brother watching over me, and teaching me.”

I snort out a laugh. There’s warmth and hope in her eyes and I know she really wants me to go to our father’s new house for Thanksgiving. I am not sure what will come of it, but if Taylor needs that, I have to give it more consideration. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Think about what?” Elias asks, coming into the kitchen. Before I can answer, and not that I want to tell him what we’d been talking about, he sniffs and says, “Damn, that smells good.”

“It’s me.” I tug on my shirt and push our conversation to the back of my mind to think about later. “New aftershave,” I tell him and both Taylor and Elias moan. “Glad you like it. I was rather worried about that.”

Elias shakes his head and glances at Taylor. “Thinks he’s a comedian.”

“Thinks he’s something,” Tylor groans, and smooths her hair back as she steps up to the counter and pulls out the utensil drawer.

Elias goes completely serious, his gaze going from Taylor, to me, back to Taylor. He swallows, and I’m not sure he’s ever looked so uncertain before. “Taylor, I need to ask you something.”

Her body stiffens, and her hands still, holding four forks. She glances at Elias over her shoulder. Is it just me or does she seem nervous about something? “What’s up?” Before he can answer, the doorbell rings. “That should be Sahara.” She drops the forks onto the table, and Elias picks them up as she darts down the hall to the front door. Laughter reaches my ears as they share some story, and the next thing I know, both women are entering the kitchen and I try not to smile like an idiot.

My sister and Sahara are the actors. I’m not so good at it. “Hey,” I say and nearly bite off my fucking tongue when I see that she has her hair up. Too bad she didn’t wear her glasses. Or maybe that’s a blessing because I’m not sure I’d get through a meal without wanting to ravish her. From the way her face is flushing, she must know what’s going through my brain.

“I love your hair up like that,” Taylor comments. She stands back and grins. “You have this whole sexy librarian thing going on.”

Oh my, Jesus Christ.

Sahara just waves a hand. “I’m always trying new things for new roles.”

All I can hope is that tonight’s role takes place in my bed, between the sheets.

Sahara inhales. “What smells so good?”

“My grandma’s famous spaghetti sauce.”

“Looks like it’s Kalen’s famous spaghetti sauce.”

I grin and try not to get a boner when she walks up to me. I dip the big wooden spoon in and hold it toward her for a taste. I try not to be jealous of the spoon when it slips between her lips. She runs her tongue over her bottom lip.

“Kalen, this is amazing. Is it a secret recipe or can you teach me?”

“I’ll teach you.”

“I had no idea you were such a good cook.”

I shrug, but inside I’m just a dork who loves the compliment. Truthfully, I’m a hockey player, but I’m also a nerdy guy who likes video games, books, and cooking. I just haven’t had much time for any of those things since joining the Bucks. I want to start reading more—haven’t read anything other than books on hockey plays in ages, and with any luck, I’ll be rectifying that tonight.

“You know what they say, a way to a man’s heart,” Taylor pipes in and laughs.

“Wait.” Sahara frowns. “What’s the way to a woman’s heart?”

Catching us by surprise, Elias laughs and we all turn to him. “Oh, sorry. I clearly spent too much time with Roman today because I was thinking about what he’d say.”

Taylor holds her palms up. “God, I do not want to hear it.” She continues with, “I think a way to a woman’s heart is a guy liking you just the way you are, and not wanting to change you into something else.”

“Like his mother,” Sahara laughs. “I’ve seen that happen before.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m not looking for a mother figure.” Elias quivers. “Hell, one overbearing mother is enough, thank you.”

“Does that mean you are out there looking for someone?” Sahara asks, as I reach for a spoon to stir the pasta. When the three of them fall silent behind me, I turn to see Elias tearing his gaze away from Taylor. Oh right, he wants to ask her about Vegas, but I take it he doesn’t want to give her the wrong idea, especially after Sahara’s question.

“No, I wouldn’t say that, exactly,” he answers.

“Wine?” Taylor asks, a small smile on her lips. I have no idea what’s going through her head, but whatever it is, she’s happy about it, and that makes me happy.

“Can you grab the pasta bowls?” I ask Sahara and point to the cupboard. Elias takes the bottle of wine from Taylor and opens it, pouring us each a glass, and Taylor sets them on the table.

As they both drop into their seats, Sahara goes up on her tiptoes to get the bowls but she can’t quite reach.

“I told you, you keep them too high,” Taylor huffs out. “We’re not all giants like you and Elias.”

“Here.” I step behind her and reach over her head, my body pressing against her back and yes, as my cock enjoys the soft swell of her backside, it rises to the occasion, like he too is in search of the bowls. Mr. President is far too happy at the moment and that’s just not good. I get the bowls and keep my back to everyone as she sets them on the counter.

“What did you want to ask me?” Taylor asks Elias, and I’m grateful that I don’t have to talk. I’m sure my voice would come out a little high pitched at the moment.

I check the pasta, and set the colander in the sink as Sahara remains standing beside me, her back against the counter.

“Oh, uh…it was actually Roman’s idea.”

“What? This can’t be good,” Taylor bursts out.

“Believe it or not, the guy had a good idea.”

“Okay, I’m all ears. Spill.”

“I’m heading home for Thanksgiving, and Mom and Dad will be asking about my plus one for my buddy’s elaborate New Year’s Eve wedding. I’m sure there will be lots of women around the dinner table during Thanksgiving and they’ll all be swarming me. I’m not saying that because of ego. It’s just that Mom and Dad always invite women from the right families because they want what they call, the Ariti family’s most eligible bachelor to ‘choose wisely’, you know.” He does air quotes around the words choose wisely.

Taylor frowns. “I’m sorry, Elias. It must be hard to know if a woman wants you for you, or to be a part of your family, or even to get into politics.”

He nods. “Anyway, Easton is my oldest childhood friend, and if I don’t show up with a date to the wedding, my parents will ensure there’s a woman, who they deem fit, on my arm. Whether I like it or not.” I turn to see him briefly close his eyes, like he’s in utter pain. “Anyway, Roman said something about bringing a date to prevent that from happening. I was thinking, I can tell them about you during Thanksgiving dinner, and then we could go to the wedding together.”

Taylor’s eyes go wide, as she points at herself. “Me? You want me to be your date?”

“Pretend date,” I point out quickly, and Elias glances at me and nods.

“I understand if you don’t want to do it. My parents are…a lot.” He cringes and adds, “They probably won’t like the idea of you, because…I don’t know how to say this without it sounding awful.”

“Because I don’t have the right pedigree. Because I want to be an actress.”

He glances down and nods. “Yeah, exactly.”

“All the more reason I want to do it,” she says with a big grin.

“Really?” Elias asks, his head lifting, surprise all over his face.

Taylor holds her glass out for a salute and Elias taps his against it. “To a Vegas wedding, and me being a pretend date to keep the sharks at bay.” The smile falls from Taylor’s face as she glances at me. “We didn’t have plans, did we?”

I shake my head. Look at her worried about me when it should be the other way around. “Go to Vegas and have fun.” I narrow my eyes. “Just not too much fun.” I glance at Elias. “You’ll see to that, won’t you?”

He scrubs his face, and nods. “Yeah. Of course.” He seems a bit twitchy as he toys with the corner of the placemat. Heading home for Thanksgiving next month, and this whole fake dating scheme must be worrying him.

The timer I set for the pasta goes off and I turn back to the stove. Sahara helps me plate and serve the food and after we all sit, I lift my glass in salute.

“What are we drinking to?” Sahara asks.

“To friends,” I respond, loving that all four chairs are filled at the table, just like when we were kids, before Mom got sick and Dad well…I don’t want to think about that right now.

Everyone nods in agreement and we all dig in. “Do you do all the cooking?” Sahara asks as she twirls pasta around her fork.

“We all take turns.”

“I like it when it’s Kalen’s turn,” Taylor says. “Not so much when it’s Elias.”

“Hey,” he shoots back. “I’m a good cook.”

I exchange a look with Taylor and we both laugh.

He squares his shoulder. “Okay, fine. I wouldn’t say great, but I get by.”

Sahara takes a sip of her wine. “It’s nice that you all share.” She looks a little lost, maybe a bit sad. “I grew up with four siblings so my place gets quiet sometimes.”

“If you’re ever looking for a roommate?” Taylor pipes in.

I sigh. “Are we doing this again?”

She purses her lips. “I can’t live with my brother forever. I need my own space. Besides, someday you’re going to get married and need the extra rooms for kids.” She holds her hands up. “I don’t want to be the one keeping you from that.”

I shake my head. I think sometimes she just likes to poke at me. “At least finish school before you consider moving, T, and I’m not getting married anytime soon, or ever.” I realize she’ll have to move someday. This is a big city, and I like her close to me. Yes, I’m overprotective, I know.

“Speaking of moving,” Elias pipes in and I turn to him. “The house at the end of the street is going up for sale.”

“I drove by it on the way here. They were just putting the For Sale sign up,” Sahara mentions. “It’s huge.”

He nods in agreement. “It is huge. Maybe I’ll get a roommate.”

I set my fork down for a second, this all taking me by surprise. “I didn’t realize you were looking.”

“Brady mentioned it to me the other day. He knows the family selling and I guess it got me thinking.”

Elias focuses on his food, twirling the noodles around his fork. He seems uneasy, and I can’t help but think he’s worried he’s upsetting me by moving. But I’m not upset. Sure, I like his company in this big place, and I consider him my brother, a guy I trust, but maybe he’s thinking of his future and settling down. “You know you can stay with me as long as you want.”

“I know, but now that the market is opening up, it might be a good time to get my own place. Like Taylor said, someday you’ll need the extra rooms.”

I nod, understanding everyone needs their own space. “I can hook you up with my realtor if you want to check it out,” I say.

“Well,” Sahara begins. “I’m not currently looking for a roommate, Taylor, but it sounds like Elias might be.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, her eyes go big and her gaze flies to Taylor, like she might have said something she shouldn’t have. She’s right. No way would Taylor want to move in with Elias, and Sahara must realize she shouldn’t have suggested it. Obviously it was just her trying to help her friend and she looks sorry that she put voice to the thought. No doubt Taylor is sick of the two of us telling her what to do, and wants away from all the fatherly advice she gets from us both.

“I’m pretty sure Taylor wants out from under Elias’s thumb too,” I point out with a laugh as I stab a meatball.

“Yeah, I do not want to be under Elias’s thumb,” she agrees with a smirk that seems out of place and when she casts Sahara a look I don’t understand, I’m about to ask what’s going on but Elias pipes in.

“What do you think of your Halloween costume, Sahara?”