Page 42 of Trick Shot (Bainbridge Hockey #4)

Pete

I t’s nearly midnight when I make it back to the honors dorm.

I don’t bother stopping at my room on the first floor.

I’ve barely slept there yet, and I don’t plan on sleeping there tonight either.

My head is pounding, and my heart is breaking, and there’s only one place I can even think of going right now.

And that’s straight into Claire Fowler’s arms.

I may not know what’s happening between us, but I know I feel better when I’m with her. After the news I got tonight, that’s just what I need.

We texted earlier, so I know she’s up and waiting for me. I tap out a quick message to let her know I’m here, and her door opens about two seconds later.

She doesn’t say anything as she wraps her arms around me.

I lean into her embrace for a minute, then I follow her into the bedroom.

We both strip wordlessly. I even tear off my t-shirt because I get hot when I sleep.

And because she said she likes my chest so much that she’s thinking of donating all my shirts to charity.

We’re lying in bed, facing each other. She’s wearing one of my hockey tees—which is hypocritical if you ask me—and I’m in just my boxers. As much as I love being nearly naked with Claire, sex is not on the menu tonight. I’m exhausted, and I’m not in the right headspace.

“I don’t know how the hell we’re gonna make it through this time,” I tell her honestly, not even a little bit embarrassed when my voice cracks.

Unshed tears glisten in her eyes, and the ones in mine threaten to spill over.

I was fucking stoic in that hospital room tonight.

I stayed strong and positive for my mom, my brothers, and my grandma when the docs broke the news.

My mom, a two-time breast cancer survivor, and the strongest woman I know, has uterine cancer.

I held it together then, but here in the quiet stillness of Claire’s bedroom, my brain knows it can shut down. My heart knows it can spill over.

“They caught it early, though, right? I mean, I know it’s still bad, but…”

I nod as her voice trails off. “Yeah, Ma’s known something was off since Christmas, but none of the docs would listen.

When we were in the ER the last time, one doctor who had to be about eighty wrote off her symptoms as menopause.

If Ma hadn’t passed out earlier that day, I think she’d have leaped off the bed and choked him. ”

“I don’t blame her,” Claire says, as the corner of her mouth lifts up in the barest hint of a smile. “Do they have a plan in place, or do you need to meet with more doctors?”

“Yes and yes,” I answer. “The oncologist we talked to was pretty thorough. He said they’ll do surgery as soon as they can, and that, all things considered, her chances are decent, but Jesus.” This time, when my voice breaks, the tears begin to fall, and I let them.

Claire holds me as emotions rolls through my body. Watching my mom battle cancer a third fucking time might just destroy me. And hell, I have it easy. I’m not the one whose body is literally out to kill me.

My face is wet, my eyes are red, and the throbbing in my temple won’t let up.

But Claire’s embrace is warm, and her touch is gentle.

She’s rubbing soothing circles in lazy patterns on my back.

It should be just what I need to calm down.

Instead, the sweetness of the gesture unlocks something inside me.

“I fucking hate him,” I say, the words out of my mouth before I even realize I’ve said them.

And where the hell did that come from? It’s been more than a year since his last visit and while the boys still talk to him on birthdays and holidays, I’ve pretty much written him off.

That’s what he did to all of us, so it seemed like the right response.

Instead of jerking back or asking me who I’m talking about or even reminding me that I need to focus on my mom right now, Claire just keeps holding me close, and apparently, that’s all the encouragement my brain needs because my mouth opens, and more words spill out.

“He’s a fucking coward, and she’s better off without him.

We all are. Who does that? What kind of man leaves his wife after she finds out she has cancer?

And he didn’t even have the balls to leave, not at first. He just got busy with work.

He was always traveling. And when he finally faded into the background, he was fucking pissed that we didn’t fall apart the minute he was gone. ”

Claire hasn’t moved. She’s constant and steady, and that’s just what I need right now even though I probably shouldn’t be here. This is all fake, even if it feels more real than any relationship I’ve ever been in.

“I don’t even know why the hell I’m talking about him,” I say, wishing my mouth would get the memo to shut the hell up .

“Because it’s fucking unfair,” she says.

“Because your mom keeps getting up every time she’s been kicked to the ground.

Because you’ve been the glue that’s held your family together.

He ran away like a little bitch when things got tough, and he left you to pick up the pieces.

That sucks. I know you adore your family, and you’d do anything for them, but it sucks that you had to step up. ”

She presses a kiss to my temple, her arms still wrapped around me, her touch warm and soothing on my back.

“It’s okay to be pissed. It’s okay to be sad, and it’s okay to be scared. But she’s got this, Pete. It’s bullshit that she has to go through this again, but she’s going to beat it. And we’re all going to be here for you while she does.”

I can hear the promise in her words. Talking about the future is something Claire and I have studiously avoided, but right now, in her bed, on one of the worst nights I’ve ever had, I know she’ll stand by me no matter what.

Claire is the exact opposite of my father. She stays and fights. She’s loyal to her core. My eyes drift shut and exhaustion takes over, and all I know is that I’m damn glad to have Claire Fowler by my side.