Page 30

Brooke

“You don’t need to be nervous.” Grant reaches over, putting his hand on my thigh, reassuringly. “Gunnar’s parents are nice.”

We are on our way to brunch with Gunnar's parents, and I'm about to meet Sasha. I'm kind of not looking forward to it, and I'm not hiding it well.

“I’m not nervous about Gunnar’s family. I’m nervous about Sasha,” I mutter, looking out the window.

“Just ignore her,” Grant murmurs, focusing on parking his jeep on the sidewalk in front of the diner we were meeting at. “She’s insecure.”

“You can say that again.” I laugh as we get out of the Jeep. “Has she always been like that?”

“For as long as I’ve known Gunnar and met her, yeah.

” He shrugs subtly, putting a hand on my back as we walk into the diner; he scans it before spotting Adam and Bear.

“Even the first time I met her, I asked how her trip was getting here, and she spent the next ten minutes explaining how awful it had been and how she wished she hadn’t come, and Gunnar had gone to meet her instead. ”

“She sounds delightful.” I widen my eyes at him, sliding into a chair next to Adam, who hugs me to his side; Grant glares at him.

“You had her all morning; gimmie.” He sticks his tongue out at Grant, and I laugh.

I suspect that Adam and Bear know there’s something more going on between Grant and me, but if they haven't mentioned anything by now, I guess they're going to keep it to themselves.

“Only because he didn’t want to go into the apartment when Sasha was there.” I move closer to the middle of Grant and Adam, with Bear across from me.

“You shouldn’t have bothered,” Bear said, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of coffee. “When we got back this morning, Gunnar was asleep on the sofa.”

“No,” I whisper, looking around in case they came in before leaning forward and putting my elbows on the table. “She kicked him out of his room.”

“Or he’s grown a pair and willingly slept there,” Adam says, biting his bottom lip and crossing both his fingers in the air.

“Doubt that,” Grant grumbles, frowning before picking up the menu to distract him.

He hates talking about Sasha. It’s his job to protect his team, and he can’t do anything to protect Gunnar from how Sasha has treated him.

“Grant Anders, Bear McDonald, and Adam Price,” a voice cuts across the diner. “My three favourite hockey players!”

A woman with the same hair colour as Gunnar comes up to our table, followed by a man holding shopping bags, who looks exactly as I imagine Gunnar would in 20 years. The boys spring up to hug them.

“Mr and Mrs C,” Grant says, hugging her. “Don’t let Gunnar hear you say that.”

“Ah, he’s not going pro. Better get on your boys’ good sides now to get those tickets,” Mr C waves him off, and the boys laugh.

“This is Brooke.” Adam pulls me forward from awkwardly standing behind them.

“Brooke!” Mrs C says, holding her arms out. “I’ve heard so much about you”

“Hi.” I smile politely, accepting the hug she forces on me. “It’s lovely to meet you. Thanks for letting me join.”

“Any girl who can put up with those four boys is always welcome to join us.” She squeezes my arms when she pulls back and pulls me over to the seats; my heart squeezes like it normally does when anyone’s parents are remotely nice or normal.

And that’s trauma for you folks.

We all settle in at the table, and Mrs C immediately starts talking to me about The Drop while the boys catch Mr C up on their games while we wait for Gunnar and Sasha.

But after twenty minutes and no sign of them, Mrs C is getting irritated “Do you want to text Gunnar again and see where they are?” Mrs C huffs as we ask our server for more time for the fourth time.

Just as he gets his phone out, Gunnar walks in alone. “Sorry I’m late,” he says out of breath, and his mom gets up to hug him. “Sasha isn’t feeling well, so she couldn’t make it.”

“She sounded fine last night,” Adam said, narrowing his eyes, looking down at his menu. I elbow him.

Gunnar slips into conversation with the boys, and I pick up my coffee cup. “So, are you heading home for Thanksgiving, Brooke?” Mrs C asks, and I shake my head in response. “Oh, does your family live out of state?”

“Um, no, it’s just my mom and I, but we haven’t really spoken in a while, so I just made plans without her.” As I say it, it sounds awkward, and as much as I don’t want it to sound like I don't get along with my mom, that’s exactly how it sounds.

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey.” She rubs my arm, and I’m reminded again of what I’m missing out on by having no relationship with my mom. “Families are difficult, but things always work out.”

I nod back, unsure what to say; could I work things out with my mom?

She hadn’t reached out, but I guess neither had I. I've been thinking about it recently, and now, with time, maybe she’s thought about what happened and feels differently.

Someone nudges my foot, and I look up at Grant; he smiles at me, and I smile back. He’s got a weird superpower of knowing when I need a little support.

I pull my phone out as I get a text. “Cami got back early. She’s going to join us. Is that ok?”

“Of course it is, we love Cami”, she claps her hands together excitedly, and I smile, texting Cami back. Mrs C is everything my mom is not, and it’s a breath of fresh air. I also clocked the panicked look on Gunnar’s face.

“You said she was out of town, Gunnar,” Mrs C scolds, turning to him. “She was,” he mutters, taking a bite of food. “You heard Brooke say she got back into town?”

“It’ll be good to see her,” Mr C cuts in, attempting to de-escalate Gunnar's sour mood. “Yes,we love watching her competitions, and she’s always nice when we message.” Mrs C agrees.

“You message her?!” Gunnar chokes on his coffee while we all watch back and forth between him and his parents like a ping-pong match. “Since when?”

“Since the first time we met her,” Mrs C replies, narrowing her eyes. “She’s a lovely girl, Gunnar, and she’s always been a good friend to you. We support all your friends.”

“We don’t have any other kids,” Mr C explains to me over the table. “So we like to keep up with all his friends, it makes us feel like we’ve got a bigger family than we do.”

“That’s nice,” I say, tilting my head, my heart melting. I notice Gunnar rolling his eyes, and I kick him under the table.

“Ow,” Bear shouts, reaching down to rub his leg, looking at Adam. “Did you kick me?”

“What? No, I did–” Adam goes to respond, but I cut in.

“Seriously, Adam, can we just have one nice meal?” I huff, covering for myself, and Grant nods, "Seriously, bud, it doesn't always have to be about you”

While Adam scrambles to defend himself, I see Cami through the glass window of the diner and wave.

“Mr she can join us girls if she’s feeling better.” Mrs C says before walking out front to make the call.

“That’s going to go well,” Gunnar groans, and his dad throws his arm around his shoulder.

“Your mom’s never going to stop trying to crack Sasha, son.”

“She doesn’t need cracking. She’s not safe,” Gunnar sulks, and Cami and I exchange looks.

“To your mom, she is.” Mr C ends the conversation and follows his wife out the door.