Page 22

22

QUENTIN

A udrey had off Saturday morning, and we set up a call after our team practice. Nerves got the best of me, and I thought of a million reasons to cancel my plan.

I didn’t have to talk about the hard shit with her. I could avoid it, like I had for a long time. But I couldn’t get Logan’s words out of my head after hearing her with the team.

You surround yourself with people who have different strengths and use them. We did that on the ice, so why couldn’t we do that off the ice too?

Because you’re pathetic.

My inner voice sounded like my mother, and it was time to get rid of her. I had no business being in Logan’s life until I got my shit together, and the more I was around her, the more I wanted more with her. I didn’t deserve her without knowing if I had a future or not. Without hockey, I had nothing to offer. Without dealing with my mom drama, I’d never be a good partner. I needed time to sort through this, but I didn’t have any. Yet I still wanted to try.

“Hey, Q!” Audrey answered the FaceTime with a huge smile. “How goes everything?”

“Big question there.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Things are alright. How are you and Theo?”

“Missing his family and you a lot, but life here is different. I love being somewhere without memories.” She frowned. “The people here are kind, and the team is so welcoming. You’d love it up here, Q. Theo wants to talk to their coach about you if you?—”

“No,” I shouted. “You’ve done enough for me. I’m earning everything on my own.” I shuddered, thinking about my mom using Gage’s dad as bait to me. I learned my lesson with Audrey. No more. I was gonna earn this without any strings attached.

Her expression softened. “Quentin, you need to forgive yourself.”

Fuck. My sister saw straight to the core of my issues and stress and attacked. No words came to me, and she used my silence for her advantage.

“You aren’t the same person you used to be. You’ve grown. You’ve matured. You’ve learned from your mistakes, and you can’t keep punishing yourself for them. Is it because it’s easier to hold onto anger and guilt then try to live your life and be happy?”

Goddamnit. My throat clenched with emotion, her question gripping me with hooks. “Jesus, Auds.”

“You sweet idiot.” Her voice cracked as she adjusted the phone. “Listen to me. Theo and I love you to death. Neither of us have a single second of weirdness about a thing. So why do you act like you deserve to suffer?”

“Mom.” I swallowed, using every ounce of strength. “I saw her a week or two ago.”

“Okay.” She frowned. “What’s the problem? Did she ask you for money?”

I shook my head. “She was an asshole to Logan and you. And I sat there, mute. I couldn’t find it in me to tell her to shut the fuck up. I was fuming. I snapped at Logan because of it, and she doesn’t deserve that.”

“I will never tell you what to do. You’re your own person and in charge of your own life, but I want to share something. Family is by choice. It’s Theo’s sister calling you in panic because she was scared. It’s his dad FaceTiming me to say hi without Theo even being here. It’s Logan coming skating with you.” She paused and pushed her hair behind her ears. She always did that when she was nervous. “I read a quote recently that said ‘Disrespect closes doors that apologies can’t reopen’. So my question is this: does Mom deserve to have you in her life?”

I deflated. Her words popped me like a goddamn balloon, and all the feelings and emotions hit me. My eyes watered as I hung my head. “This is the same woman who held me when I cried for not making the team in sixth grade. She sobbed when we put Dad in the ground. How… how can this be the same person?”

“People change. Life alters your path. Holding onto what was only hurts what is.”

“How the fuck are you so wise about this? I’m a fucking mess.”

“I went through hell too, Quentin. I’m not trying to make you feel better, but I was willing to walk away from both of you because the pain was too much. The difference between her and you? You changed. You heard me. And honestly, it’d be easier if we could erase a year of our lives, but I’m glad we went through what we did. I feel closer to you. I trust you more.” She laughed and smiled, looking so much like our dad my heart thudded. “We chose a relationship. We earned it. Mom did nothing for it. That’s the key here.”

“I want her to change.”

“You can’t force others to do a thing. You can only control your own reactions. Is this why you wanted to talk?”

I stuttered, shame causing my face to heat. “Logan… she said that using your resources around you is smart and part of growing up. I think… I think I want to start seeing a therapist.”

“I think that’s an incredible idea. The university has a free one. I actually think I have the info saved in an email. I can share it with you, if you want?”

Nodding, I took a breath. “I might cut Mom off.”

If I expected a reaction, I got zero. It was weird. I wanted her to affirm my choice or tell me not to do something. But that wasn’t my sister. I tried though. “What do you think I should do?”

“I can’t make that decision for you, and I refuse to give you an opinion on it. I already told you that me and you are good, even if you still see her.” Audrey frowned and blew out an exasperated breath. “Have you said anything to her about this?”

“No. It’s like my throat closes up around her. I don’t get it.”

“Mm, okay, well, I won’t tell you what to do, but I’d consider talking to her. It’ll be hard, really hard. But you don’t want to leave with regrets, and not trying will feel worse than just walking away. She truly might not realize what she’s doing to you.”

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat, my shoulders already tensing with anxiety over this. “I’ll think on that.”

“You can call anytime, you know? We’re always happy to help. Honestly, if you can get away for a weekend, you should come visit. Theo can pay?—”

“He’s not paying a penny for me.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Stop being a hero. You have no car and no way to get here. If Theo pays for a ticket, would you want to come visit before the season starts? You could bring Logan for a few nights.”

“I can ask Coach, but I doubt he’d let me skip a weekend practice.” The thought of visiting my sister with Logan sounded fucking awesome though. “I’ll let you know.”

“Hey, we love you, okay?”

“I know. I love you guys too.”

“Let me know what you do about Mom and the visit.”

“I will. Thanks for the chat, Auds. Appreciate you.”

We hung up, and while I felt better about things, I wasn’t one hundred percent. Talking to someone else could help with the self-loathing and guilt, but setting up a time to talk to my mom loomed over me.

If I remained in this limbo, I could pretend we weren’t fighting or that we were okay. I was unsettled, and I knew exactly the person who I wanted to see to help.

I changed my shirt to a clean one, smiling at an old hockey shirt from freshman year on the dresser. I grabbed it and made my way toward Logan’s room. The door was cracked a few inches, and she sat on her bed, legs crossed, headphones on as she bobbed her head.

She chewed her lip before she belted out a few words to a pop song, then would focus on her laptop. She’d repeat the process, wiggle her shoulders, and smile at whatever was on her screen like it was an inside joke. I wanted to be a part of her joy. She was magical. No other way to describe her. She put a spell on me, and I never wanted her to remove it.

She gasped when her gaze landed on me leaning in the doorway, but the smile that followed was one I’d always remember. “Hey you,” she hummed.

“This is for you.” I tossed her the shirt, and she held it up, grinning. “I recall promising you one of mine to wear.”

“Oh yes. When you got weirdly possessive. That was a fun night.” She folded it nicely and set it on her bedside table. “Thank you. I’ll make sure to wear it naked underneath for you.”

“Fuck, Logan, don’t tease me with that.”

She chuckled and put her headphones around her neck. “Everything okay? You rarely come into my room.”

“I don’t?”

She shook her head. “We’ve established the kitchen as our spot, no?”

“I like having a spot with you.” I stepped closer toward her, nerves growing deep in my gut. I was in her space. She might want to protect her room. This wasn’t part of our bargain. “Uh, should I leave?”

Her lips twisted in concern. “Why?”

“Because I’m in your room.”

“Hawthorne, what is going on?” She patted the bed next to her, and on cue, I shuffled my feet there and sat on the edge of her bed. She moved her books and laptop to her side table and faced me, eyes wide and face neutral. “No offense, but you’re being weird.”

I ran a hand through my hair, leaning back on her bed so my head was on her pillow. Immediately, she lay next to me and snuggled on my chest. Everything felt right then, with her right beside silently supporting me without knowing what stressed me out. Her long hair was down today, and I played with the ends, thinking on my words.

I wanted to tell her I planned to get better for her. I was hopeful we could try to make it work, despite knowing I couldn’t afford any distractions. I wanted to dream about the possibility. If I got my mom shit figured out, then maybe I could actually enjoy Logan and hockey. Maybe.

Yet I couldn’t say the words. Too much fear. I went with the one thing that I knew was complicated. “It’s my mom.”

“What about her?” She trailed her fingers over my pecs, her soft breath hitting my neck. “Unrelated, you smell so good right now. I want to bury myself inside you.”

“That’s my line, Log.”

She giggled but didn’t move away or stop her fingers. Her touch healed wounds in me that she’d never created.

“I’m going to try to speak with her, and if she doesn’t change, I’m cutting her off. Does that… am I an asshole?”

Logan sighed, then her hand stilled. I prepared for her to judge me for saying that since she was so close with her parents.

“Not at all. Your mom is. She can’t expect to treat people like that and then have people who want to be around that.” Logan’s voice grew stronger. “You are amazing, Quentin. So thoughtful and kind, hardworking?—”

“I wasn’t always like that though.” My stomach ached with regret. “I was a selfish?—”

“Again, we grow as humans. It’s not fair to hold things in the past over yourself if you’ve made an active choice to change.” She tensed, but it didn’t last long.

Was she thinking about Gage? His one mistake?

God, I wanted her to be over him completely. I wanted her only thinking about me.

“I really like who you are now, Quentin, and I think you need to learn to like yourself.” She kissed my neck, her lips soft and precious and warm against my racing pulse.

I squeezed her against me tighter, wishing I could express how much her words helped me. She was the biggest cheerleader, the best friend, and fuck me…my chest felt tight, and my heart swelled with a pang. Almost like heartburn.

Is this…love?

“You know what I think you need?”

“Tell me.” Because I was a fucking mess in my mind, and anything to distract me would be helpful.

“A pumped-up playlist. Let’s make one!” She pushed up and reached for her computer, her laughter infectious. “We can start with a little pop-goes-punk. Great rhythm, and a little guitar and screaming never hurt anyone.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

We leaned against her wall, our shoulders touching and our thighs pressed together as she named the playlist PUMP UP THE JAM.

“Brasstracks, have you heard of them? Amazing instrumentals. Their Mariah Carey cover will blow your literal mind.” Logan picked song after song, explaining why she chose it and how much she loved each tune. I just listened.

I liked the sound of her voice and how she leaned into me. She was so fucking pretty and kind, sexy and wild when you pulled back a layer, and loyal.

“And I know what you’re thinking,” she said, eyeing me for a second.

“Oh, really?” I arched a brow. “Then why aren’t you naked?”

She chuckled before leaning into me again. Each time she did that, a whiff of her peach perfume washed over me. “You wicked horndog.”

“You’re gorgeous. It’s hard not thinking about you naked when we’re on your bed and you’re so fucking pretty.”

Boom. She blushed and chewed the side of her lip, her lashes fanning on her cheek. “How can you still make me blush after everything we’ve done?”

“Oh baby, we still have so much left to do too.” I kissed her temple and pulled back. “I love your blushing. Favorite thing about you.”

“How dorky.” She pointed to her laptop. “What I was going to say was that whenever this thing ends, don’t worry about my playlists. I’ll always make one for you. You’ll become addicted to them.”

I wanted to tell her I was becoming addicted to her and that this thing between us shouldn’t end. But the same thing that happened around my mom happened here. I couldn’t get the words out. Instead of saying all that, I nodded.

First thing Monday morning, I was calling the therapist.