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TWENTY-ONE

GAVIN

December

The fall was filled with almost weekly trips. Any time I could get away between games, I’d fly to Paris. Half the time, I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. I only truly felt like myself when I was lying in bed with Millie. Whether that was in Paris, which was quite often, or when I was on the road and she’d fly in under the guise of wanting to see her brother play.

We met up in Vegas once when Lake and Ford came along to watch the Bolts play the Vices. Ford, thank fuck, was the one to invite her along, so there was no reason for him to be suspicious. Though we came dangerously close to getting caught during that trip. For months, I’d been agonizing over coming clean with Ford, and that trip only made the desire to do so more urgent. I just hoped that Ford would forgive me when I finally told him the truth.

Or at a minimum, not castrate me.

Ford’s blessing was a wish too far for even the brightest of shooting stars, but after that scare, I knew we couldn’t keep lying. It was only a matter of time before we got caught. And the fallout from that would be so much worse.

Even still, Millie had become my obsession—her smiles, the sound of her voice, the feel of her beneath me. I’d come to crave her thoughts on almost every topic, and I looked for her in every space.

There’s no world in which I’d choose anything or anyone over her. Which means it’s time to tell our friends and family that we’re together.

Though I have no plans to do it tonight.

Or at least not while I’m lying in bed holding Millie, who’s just come so hard I’m still panting into her shoulder.

“Having a heart attack, old man?”

The ribbing she gives me is because of the way my whole body goes rigid at the image on my Ring app. “Don’t tell me you forgot we ordered dinner before you started going down on me, asking for an appetizer. The poor delivery boy has probably been waiting for five minutes while you fucked me into next Tuesday.”

While the smile Millie has directed at me is usually all I need to be put at ease, tonight, it won’t cut it. Not in this situation. I put a palm over her mouth as I talk into the app. “Be right down.”

“No rush,” her father says through the speaker.

Beside me, Millie goes as rigid as I am, and her eyes grow wide. “What is he doing here?”

I hop out of bed and snag the shorts I tossed onto the floor when I decided I couldn’t wait a second longer to be inside my girlfriend. I slide a palm down my face and suck in a painful breath. “No fucking idea.”

She pulls the sheets up to her chin, hiding her naked body like her dad could walk into the bedroom at any moment. “Does he normally just show up like this?”

My heart races so wildly I can barely hear, let alone think straight. “No.”

“Shit,” she mutters.

Trying a little trick I’ve seen Liv use a hundred times when she’s losing her shit with my brother, I pull in a long breath, count to four, and let it out. Then I kneel on the bed and press a kiss to Millie’s lips. “It’s going to be okay. Just stay in here. I’ll get rid of him.”

As I walk out of the room, I text my brother.

Me: Call Ford and ask him to come over.Now.

Beckett: What? Why?

Me: Please don’t ask me to explain. Just do it.

Beckett: This is about Millie, isn’t it?

Me: Don’t ask questions you don’t want me to answer.

Beckett: Fuck, Gav. What were you thinking?

Me: Are you calling him?

Beckett: Yes. He said to come by your place. He wants to talk to both of us.

At the bottom of the stairs, I groan and pound my fist against my forehead. Fuck.

Beckett: Seriously, what the fuck were you thinking?

Me: I love her.

Beckett: I’ll be right there.

At the door, I give myself two more seconds to breathe. Then I force myself to face the music. I swallow down the trepidation swamping me and open the door. Under the harsh hallway lights on the other side, my girlfriend’s father—my best friend—is standing before me, wearing a nervous smile.

Fuck, what the hell does he have to be nervous about?

“H-hey,” he says, clearing his throat. “Sorry for just showing up.”

I wave him in, then offer the most awkward man hug, cringing when I realize it puts us too damn close since, two minutes ago, I was balls deep in his daughter. Fuck, I hope he can’t smell her on me.

“Anytime.” I head to the bar to put some space between us. “Can I grab you a drink?”

Ford follows me, almost in a daze. Unlike me, he’s dressed like he’s ready for dinner, in a pair of black slacks, a gray shirt, and a suit jacket. “Big event today?” I ask, picking up the whiskey bottle.

“Had a meeting with Crystal Stewart today. She’s thinking about leaving Kennedy Records.”

I pause, bottle in one hand and the cap in the other. “Shit, that’s huge.”

Ford picks up one whiskey, and when I do the same, we clink glasses. “Tell me about it. But it was all Lake. I’ll tell you, bringing her on as part owner was the best decision I ever made. Artists love the idea that they can work with her, and she’s so passionate about giving more power back to them. It’s really a win-win.”

That part of Ford’s decision made sense, sure, and I’m happy for him, but even so, it’s hard not to get angry. The situation was devastating for Millie, and this man is so goddamn clueless about it. It feels almost like a betrayal to congratulate him, so I take a long sip of my whiskey—a Hanson specialty bottle that Garreth had sent over—and nod noncommittally. “So you came over here to celebrate?”

Ford smiles but shakes his head.

Smiling is good, right? A father who’s just discovered that his best friend is fucking his daughter wouldn’t smile. So it stands to reason that he isn’t here to beat the shit out of me. Though that gives me little comfort when his naked daughter is upstairs.

“We should wait for Beckett to get here,” Ford says as he settles on the barstool beside me. “What’s new with you?”

“Oh, uh, just lots of travel. Hockey”— not fucking your daughter anytime I have a free moment —“the usual.”

Ford’s practically glowing as he takes another sip of whiskey, and the smile he was wearing when he walked in is still firmly in place.

When the Ring app alerts me to Beckett’s arrival, I sigh in relief.

“That was quick,” Ford says, mirroring my thoughts.

I can’t get away from Ford fast enough, so I hustle to the door and throw it open. When Beckett barrels in, he’s breathing heavy. Fuck, I’ve never loved him more.

“You run here?” Ford jokes.

My brother eyes me as he shakes his head, though his breathlessness gives him away. “I was across the street at the stadium.”

“Working late?” Ford, completely unaware of the silent conversation my brother and I are having, just sips his whiskey with a dreamy look on his face.

Beckett’s eyes ask Where is she?

With a tilt of my head toward my bedroom, I tell him Down the hall.

His wince is a sharp fuck.

“Yeah, Livy had dinner with her friends tonight, and Brooks and Aiden offered to babysit, so I figured I’d get caught up on some work before meeting you for drinks,” he says to Ford.

I grit my teeth and shoot another silent look at my brother. One that says Why the fuck didn’t you warn me that our best friend was coming into town tonight? If I’d known, I would have taken Millie to the Four Seasons to ensure we didn’t have any run-ins.

As it was, I planned to drive down to Bristol to see him tomorrow. I want everything out in the open before Christmas, and the clock is ticking down. There’s no way I’m spending the holidays without Millie by my side.

With any luck, the holidays will have my friend in a better mood and less likely to murder me.

“Why don’t you two head to the restaurant, and I’ll meet you there?” Whiskey in hand, I motion to my T-shirt and shorts. “I’m not really dressed to go out.”

Much to my dismay, Ford shakes his head. “I need to tell you something before we go.” He sets his whiskey glass down on the bar beside him and rubs his hands together. The smile he’s worn all night suddenly disappears as he rubs the back of his neck.

For a second, I worry he really does know the truth. My heart takes off again as I brace myself for the implosion of our friendship.

Instead, his smile returns, even bigger this time. “Lake is pregnant,” he says, his voice full of awe. “I’m going to be a dad again.”

“Holy shit, congrats.” My brother pulls Ford in for a hug.

I should be congratulating him too, but all I can do is blink as I try to wrap my head around what this means for my relationship.

Fuck, there is no way in the world Millie is going to handle this well.