Page 6

CHAPTER 6

ZANDER

I can’t stop thinking about Sienna. It’s been nearly two days since I saw her and Zoey.

Zoey.

That name will be burned into my brain forever.

“Zoey!” Sienna’s voice had rung across the playground, and at first I hadn’t recognized it. But now it’s on repeat in my brain.

Sienna’s voice was always so playful and fun. It was a sweet melody in high school.

It hadn’t sounded so light and playful when I heard it on Sunday, but it was still hers.

Mine. My Sparky.

But she’s not.

Not the way she looked at me, all bug-eyed and afraid.

All “Nope!” and run.

What the fuck!

I have to find her. I have to know the truth.

Am I Zoey’s father?

The thought makes me shudder, twisting my gut into a painful knot and making it impossible to finish my lunch.

I nudge the tray away from me, too lost in my memories to even hear my teammates around me.

Zoey’s a toddler. If she’s about two, then there’s a really strong chance she’s mine. Unless Sienna tried getting over me by immediately sleeping with someone else after I left. The thought fills my mind with a green-red haze, and I shut it off, forcing myself to see this notion through.

Our last night together had been epic. It was a final goodbye.

I can still see her face through my bedroom window, rain running down her skin like tears. I’d pulled her inside and she’d cried against me, mourning the end of our relationship and begging me to hold her one last time.

I couldn’t just hold her. I needed her to know that I was hurting too. That I still loved her.

And so we lost ourselves in each other the way we always did.

It came so naturally, our bodies burning for each other, our fingers knowing where to touch, our tongues dancing that familiar tango.

I plunged inside her before putting a condom on. It hadn’t even occurred to me until I felt that liquid fire in my veins. I could sense the impending orgasm and suddenly realized how fucking irresponsible I was being.

“I’ll pull out before I pop, okay?” I’d barely managed the words. “Or do you want me to suit up?”

She hadn’t. She’d shaken her head and whispered, “It’s okay. I trust you. ”

And I had been trustworthy. I hadn’t given in to temptation and exploded inside her the way I’d wanted to. I’d forced myself to pull out, to jerk and come all over her perfect stomach. She’d watched me the whole time, her gaze so strong and sure, drenched in adoration. I had to kiss her lips after that. I had to hold her close and not let go.

She spent the entire night in my arms.

And I had no idea one of my swimmers had been left behind.

Fuck. I thought pulling out was a safe method.

One you’ve never used with any other girl.

All my escapades in college have been all about the condoms and safe sex. There’s been something almost robotic and mechanical about every one of my one-night stands.

I’ve never lost myself with a girl the way I lost myself in Sienna. She fried my brain, made it that much harder to think about protection when our bodies were doing all the thinking for us. There wasn’t logical thought when it came to physical stuff with her. There was only harmony and passion.

Fuck.

I scrape my hand through my hair, reeling at this bombshell that’s exploded in my face.

Why didn’t she tell me?

If I am the father, why the fuck didn’t she tell me!

That’s the only thing that’s making me doubt Zoey is mine. Because Sienna wouldn’t keep something like that from me. It wouldn’t matter how hurt she was over the breakup; there’s no way she wouldn’t have told me I was going to be a dad .

So maybe Zoey’s not mine.

Maybe trying to find out will only unearth a shit ton of complications and drama.

But I have to find her.

And I have to see Zoey one more time… to know for sure.

The fact that she looks just like Monica did is a fucking obvious omen, isn’t it?

She’s yours. You know she’s yours.

But I need that shit confirmed.

Clenching my jaw, I keep staring at my half-eaten lunch, the world only coming back into focus when I hear Wily behind me.

“Well, that sucks.”

I blink and look over my shoulder. Wily’s talking to two of his high school buddies. Ethan Galloway and Liam something. I can’t remember. It starts with a C, I think.

Anyway, they’re hockey boys and seniors this year, just like Wily and me.

Ethan senses my stare and raises his chin in acknowledgment before rounding up his conversation. “We don’t get a say in who coaches us, I guess.”

“At least he’s only an assistant coach.” Liam sighs. “Although he keeps acting like he’s the boss.”

“The guy’s a fuckwit.” Casey Pierce glides past, chipping in his two cents as he heads to the hockey table. “I’m just saying it because I know you two pansy-asses don’t want to publicly trash-talk the guy, but it’s the truth!”

Ethan snickers and shakes his head, then mutters, “It’s kind of the truth. He acts more like a drill sergeant than a coach. ”

“Dude. It’s always hard adjusting,” Wily says. “I know when Coach Jones started, I kinda hated on the guy.”

I tense, ready to defend our head coach to the end. That guy saved my life.

“But I’ve gotten used to his style now, and I really respect him,” Wily finishes, and I relax my elbows back onto the table. “What’s the fuckwit’s name?”

Liam shakes his head, and Ethan tuts like he doesn’t want to say, but Casey pipes up from his end of the table. “That’d be Russell Fisher. Fish Sticks. McDaddy Doo-doo.”

What did he just say?

My ears start burning, my back pinging straight.

“Repulsive Russell.” Casey lifts his fork in the air.

“Lame!” someone shouts from the hockey table while a few more snort and laugh at their teammate’s name-calling rant.

“Fish Fucker.” A loud laugh pops out of Casey’s mouth, and Ethan raises his hand to shut his teammate up.

“Case, we get it, man.”

“Oh, come on, bro. I want to think of at least three more.” He clicks his fingers, then grins. “Sheriff Scrotum… Head… Or just Scrotum? Which sounds better? Or should it be Sheriff Ballsack?”

“Casey, shut the fuck up.” Asher Bensen throws a grape at his head, and Liam grins when Casey does a dramatic dodge.

Shaking his head with a laugh, Ethan slaps Wily on the arm as if he’s about to say goodbye, but I can’t let him leave .

My heart is beating so hard my ribs are gonna be permanently bruised.

Russell Fisher.

I know that name!

Snapping to my feet, I spin and face them properly, my expression no doubt doing something crazy because Ethan and Liam both stare at me like I’ve lost my fucking mind.

I think just have.

“Are you okay?” Wily asks, nudging me with his elbow.

“Did he just say Russell Fisher?” I point between the two hockey players.

“Uh… yeah.” Liam nods. “Do you know him or something?”

“I recognize the name.” I can barely manage my next sentence. “Is he at the arena?”

“Probably.” They nod. “We have practice this afternoon, so…” Ethan’s sentence dribbles off as I grab my stuff and bolt away from the table.

“Zan-Man, where the hell are you going?” Wily shouts after me, but like I can stop and answer him.

Russell Fisher.

Well, fuck me.

Sienna used to talk about old family friends they lived next door to in Sacramento. She went and visited them a few times during our year together.

Russell was like an older brother to her, and he used to play hockey. I’m sure she said he played hockey!

Is that the reason Sienna’s here?

Because of him?

My flying run slows to a jog as the thought hits me .

She’s here because of him.

Is she with him?

Are they a couple?

Do they live together?

Is Zoey his?

Fuck no. He was like four or five years older than her. She wouldn’t have… I mean, right?

By the time I can see the arena, I’ve slowed to a crawl.

The building looms ahead of me in the distance, and I’m wondering if this is the dumbest idea I’ve ever had. Charging in there to talk to some assistant hockey coach who’s never even met me before?

He might not even know Sienna!

There has to be more than one Russell Fisher who lives in the US. It’s not that uncommon of a name, right?

But I can’t not take this chance.

I have to find her, and he’s the closest lead I’ve got right now.

Squaring my shoulders, I ball my hands into fists and walk toward the arena, steeling myself for whatever this guy is going to tell me.