Page 4

4

QUENTIN

I t never felt right, or good, to grab a coffee with my mom. Not after everything that had gone down with my sister and her. Yet, when she asked to meet, I said yes. It was instinct. My initial urge to say yes.

Being the sibling behind my perfect, hard-working sister was tough. It wasn’t a “woe is me” situation, but it was the truth. My dad and Audrey had been tight, had their own jokes and language. Before he passed away, their relationship made me jealous. It wasn’t healthy or right, especially now that I knew Audrey did everything to hide his sickness from me to help me have a normal childhood. She sacrificed parts of her life for me, so I had no right to carry any resentment.

And I didn’t. I almost lost my sister last year because of our mom, and I’d never allow myself to be put into that position again. I carried the weight of knowing I made shit decisions quite often, and instead of cutting off the person who’d caused me to rot, I sat in front of her at a swanky coffee shop she chose to meet at. This woman made sure I had every opportunity to play hockey in college, but when I went further back, she’d made my childhood fun. Forts, field trips, and ice cream shops. She was a different person ten years ago, and I still held onto that version with the hope she’d return.

I ordered a water because each fancy drink was at least ten dollars.

“How has my favorite boy been?” She sipped on a large iced coffee with a huge smile on her face. She looked healthier than the last time at least. She didn’t have dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was actually done. She looked nice.

“Been okay.” My knee bounced up and down, the nervous energy needing an outlet. I didn’t want to disappoint my mom and cut her out, yet I hated being around her. It was a terrible cycle, and I didn’t know what to do. But every time I saw her, I hated myself after. It reminded me of how I’d treated my sister when I was a worse version of myself.

“You look great. Junior year now. I can’t believe it. I swear it felt like yesterday taking you to the rink for all those practices. Your dad and I loved watching you play. You’re a different person on the ice, son.”

Audrey was at those practices too. I bit back my comment because it wouldn’t do any good. My mom remembered what she chose to remember, which wasn’t exactly the truth.

“Yeah, wild how fast it went,” I said, hoping that appeased her. “You look well.”

“Thank you! I’m trying to date again. I’ll always love your father, but I’m lonely. You’re here, and I have no one else, you know?”

You could have your daughter if you grew up.

“Date? Wow. Nice.” I couldn’t picture her dating. The idea of her having someone else to complain to was appealing. I hated the thought of completely cutting her off with her not having anyone, so dating could be good.

“Yeah. I met this guy—super rich, honestly. It’s crazy! He has two properties, and he pays for me to get my hair done.” She smiled so big it seemed strange on her face. “He’s so sweet, wants to meet you.”

“Uh.” I gripped the back of my neck. “That’s soon, yeah?”

“Maybe, but things are moving fast. I know what I want, and he’s it.” Her gaze narrowed. “I thought you wanted me to be happy, Quentin. Unless you’re talking to your sister again…”

White-hot anger danced along my spine, and flashes of red grew behind my eyes. “Do not speak about her to me. I’ve let your comments slide, but she’s off-limits.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “She’s poisoning your mind, sweetheart. She was always too stubborn and bullheaded. Your father was too. I mellowed him out, but she doesn’t really have that.”

“She hasn’t done anything to me, except care for me and help me.” I gripped the glass of water so tightly my knuckles ached.

“I bet she told you that.” My mom pursed her lips and smirked. “She probably told you I always begged her for money too. Audrey is complicated. Honestly, my life has been better without her interfering.”

“I’m done here.” I pushed up from the chair so fast my knee knocked the table to the point my water slid over the side. “See you around, Mom.”

“Quentin, wait! Honey!”

“No.” I whipped around. “I refuse to let you speak that way about my sister. Just because you’re selfish and ruined your relationship with her doesn’t mean I will too.”

She rolled her eyes. My mom rolled her fucking eyes, and I couldn’t do it anymore.

“Enjoy your rich boyfriend while it lasts, Mom.”

“Oh, I plan to. At least he has manners.”

“Manners? Please.”

“He offered to help pay for an agent for you, you know. To ensure you get the top-dollar offer. I told him all about what happened, and it’s a shame you’re behaving this way.”

Hope surged in my chest, almost stopping my heart. Agent. My future. Hockey was my future of becoming someone worthy.

“Ah, that got your attention, didn’t it? See, we’re not that different are we, Quentin? I need money to live, but when you need it for an agent, you’re better than me? No. You’re not. We’re the same, you see? We want a certain future and need finances to get there. He can help you, if you help me. Two dinners a month with us and bring a date. That’s what I require. Be mad at me all you want, but Ramon sees me as a mother and expects to know my son. I’ll text you the details.”

A bribe. Pretend to be okay with my mom in order to secure my future. Fuck. Why did I want to do it? Disgust wove its way through me yet again, my choices showing my true character. I had to get out of there, to escape.

I heaved in breaths as I stormed out of the café. The warm summer air hit my face in a humid ball of moisture as I walked down the street. The neighborhood was too fancy, too much for me. That should’ve been the first sign this wasn’t going to go well. My mom liked to change her personality to her latest obsession, and this rich guy had to be it. And bribing me? God, it made sense. That version of my mother was who Audrey had seen for the last few years. Pretend to be the perfect single mom and son duo to get the rich guy? Just to help me score a better agent?

If I’d never got injured and played better, then this wouldn’t be a discussion. If I played my ass off this season and had the stats, I could get a contract offer after the season. I didn’t want to bank on having the best season of my life though. I knew how fast an injury could happen. So what the hell do I do?

My temples throbbed as I made my way back to the house. Despite the air sticking to me with how fucking hot it was, the physical movement felt good. It stifled the growing anger.

Why did our family fall apart? Why did I have to break my leg and miss my shot at the draft? Why did this offer sound so tempting?

The blazing sun was a complete contrast to my mood as I walked into the house and slammed the door. Audrey insisted I go to therapy to work through these lingering feelings, but I knew what my feelings were: disgust. At myself, at my mom.

“Oh, she is a rat!” A feminine, sunshine voice dissipated my negative spiral like flipping on a light switch.

“The biggest, hairiest one. Queen of rats.”

“With no friends. Queen rat with no friends.”

My lips twitched in spite of the residual anger at my mom. Jordan and Logan were so weird it amused me. Instead of heading to my room to grab my headphones, I followed their voices into the kitchen. Logan’s headphones were around her neck, her hair in two braids again, and her oversized Baby Yoda T-shirt covered what I assumed were shorts.

Would she be pantless down here? Did I want her to be? A little bit, yeah.

“I never did anything to her . She’s the one who messed around with Gage!”

“This seems so petty and low and sus. They aren’t together, so what good is it serving her to do this? Queen Rat.”

“Should I be worried about all this rodent talk?” I asked, leaning against the kitchen doorway. Their attention moved to me, and I acknowledged Jordan, but my gaze remained on Logan.

The mention of Gage pissed me off. That motherfucker was on my list. Logan and I still hadn’t discussed what happened at the store that day, but it was clear he was an ex and an asshole. He made her uncomfortable, and I’d never be okay with that.

“No.” Jordan put a spoonful of peanut butter in her mouth and dropped chocolate chips in after. “Mm, this is so damn good. Best snack ever.”

“Oreos are better,” Logan said, taking the jar out of Jordan’s hands and dipping a cookie into it. “The combo is intoxicating.”

“I don’t need a cookie to get my fix. Just the basics. Chocolate and peanut butter.” Jordan hummed before getting back on topic. The two of them were like a sitcom, and honestly it was refreshing. They held nothing back and cared for each other.

“Log’s ex-boyfriend cheated on her with this girl named, no, it doesn’t matter. Rat. That’s her name. Well, the rat is now in the same library program as Log here.”

“I hate that I still care.” Logan stood as a slight blush covered her face. “I don’t want to be with Gage anymore. You can’t hurt someone like that and truly care about them. But seeing her face three times a week is a real downer. It’s a reminder of the pain.”

“This Gage guy…” I said, clearing my throat. Logan’s entire body tensed, her eyes going wide as she glanced at me. I hated the worry on her face, like she was stressed about what I was going to say. “Is he aware the relationship is over?”

“He’s been trying to get her back since she caught him with his dick in Rat Queen.” Jordan hissed, but I watched Logan’s face.

She flinched. Interesting.

She adjusted her braids, tugging on the ends as she shrugged. “He insists he messed up and has tried setting up dates to talk it out. I’ve told him no every time.”

“He still won’t take a goddamn hit. The dude has had too many hits to the head on the field. You might know him, Quentin. He plays on the football team, defensive lineman. Big. Stupid face. Beefy.”

“I know who he is.” I held Logan’s stare. “Not a fan at all.”

“Punch him in the face, if you can find a good reason,” Jordan said. “So yeah. The girl he cheated with is now in Logan’s program, and I don’t trust her. Rat Queen has been messaging Logan to chat and all that weird shit.”

“What is there to discuss? Nothing!” Logan huffed and plopped down on the kitchen chair. “I hate that this is getting to me. I just need Gage to move on! Let me officially go.”

“Are you interested in anyone right now?” I asked before my brain could quite figure out my plan. My body tensed, prepping for action. I just wasn’t sure what that meant yet.

She frowned. “No. Not at all. Why?”

“I wish she would be. I have so many double date ideas we could do. I told you about my idea to?—”

“Not the naked Putt-Putt idea again, Jordan.” Preston walked in from the backyard. He was shirtless and chugging a water bottle. “Set up a bench press out there if you want a few reps, Q.”

I nodded, but my attention remained on the girls. Naked Putt-Putt? That intrigued me, especially if I finished the half-thought idea.

“It’s a great date night! Okay, Quentin, if you were on a date with someone and you played strip Putt-Putt the first night, wouldn’t that break the ice? It’d help get rid of all the awkwardness.”

“Jordan, no.” Preston shook his head as he grabbed a protein shake out of the fridge. “Not all of us like to get naked on the first date.”

“Okay, rude. Don’t shame me for liking what I like. That is a battle you’ll regret having.”

“I’d never shame you, but you can’t assume your tastes are the same for everyone.” Preston pointed at her. “You got a minute? Can you help me with this tux I gotta rent for my uncle’s wedding?”

“Fine. Only because I adore you, and you’re hot. It’d be fun to style you in a tux.”

Preston rolled his eyes before the two of them exited the kitchen, once again leaving Logan and I alone.

“I’d apologize for her, but it’d be wasteful. That is my best friend through and through. It’s who she is, and it’s not worth fighting.” Logan shrugged, her cute face scrunching up into a smile that said what can ya do.

“No need. I appreciate people being themselves.” I ran a hand over my jaw, nerves pulling at my skin. My idea was stupid, probably.

Logan laughed, but it wasn’t the genuine smile I’d seen on her before. This Gage thing really bothered her, and judging by how much seeing him upset her at the store, my idea might be helpful to her. And selfish for you too, asshole. “Anyway, sorry you heard us calling her Rat Queen. That’s our way of insulting others without going too hard. Like, she wasn’t the reason we broke up, since cheating was Gage’s choice.”

“I want to talk about Gage.”

She winced. “Thank you, by the way, for not mentioning what happened at the store. I think I was embarrassed to tell Jordan that I couldn’t tell him to piss off. I panicked, and you had to save me, and yeah, I didn’t tell her, and I appreciate you for not saying anything. Okay, I’m rambling.”

My mood went up another notch. “I picked up as much, but happy to keep that moment between us if it makes you feel better.”

She nodded but then crossed her arms. “So, what about the Rat King, Gage?”

“You can’t use rat for everything.” I joined her at the table, on the verge of smiling. She made my own issues disappear, and I wanted to focus on hers. Fix everything for her just to see her smile or hear her laugh again.

“Yes, I can, Rat Boy.” Her eyes flared, the deep browns glowing. She chuckled at her own reply before relaxing into the chair. Her shirt rode up, exposing short black shorts, which at least answered my question from earlier. “So, what about Gage?”

“I have an idea to propose. You can say fuck off or hell no, which, I’d like you to if you hate it.”

She scrunched her nose. “Some feedback, maybe don’t start off the idea with that. Now I’m primed to think the idea sucks.”

“Well, it might suck.”

Her mouth fell open before she laughed again. “Don’t go into sales. At least you’re good-looking. That will help if this is how you negotiate.”

“Again, appreciate your honesty, Logan.” I placed my palms on the table, taking a deep breath. The half-idea fully formed, and I saw it playing out as mutually beneficial. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted it. Fake dating, more hanging out. “My proposal helps both of us actually. Equally.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, her lips rubbing together as she hummed. “Carry on.”

“I need to bring a date to some family dinner twice next month, maybe the following month too.” At that point, I’d either deal with my mother on my own, or my mom and the rich guy would be broken up. Bets were on the second option. “And you need help with Gage. He needs to leave you the fuck alone, and dudes are stupid. If he sees you with someone else, maybe he’ll get the message.”

“So we’re fake dating? Like the books and movies?” Her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline, her eyes as wide as the plates on the counter.

“Not even that. You come to two maybe three dinners with me, and I help send a message to Gage to keep him away. We grab coffee a few times, I put my arm around you. That sorta thing.”

“Hm.” A deep line appeared between her brows as she dragged her pointer finger along a crack in the table. Her nail was bright pink. “I do like the thought of showing off a big, strong, hot hockey player as a boy toy.”

I snorted. “Not your boy toy.”

“But you could be.” She winked, earning a full chuckle from me. “Just a few outside dates where maybe we hug or hold hands?”

I nodded. “That can go a long way.”

“Okay. Yeah.” She shrugged. “If this gets Gage out of my life for good, then hell yeah.”

“Cool.” I smiled, moths fluttering in my stomach. They weren’t full butterflies. My life didn’t provide moments of flutters anymore, so this was fucking strange. But moths were good. “We help each other out, roomie.”

“My goal this year was to go with the flow and follow what paths were laid out for me.” She spun her thumb ring around her finger before holding out her hand. “Using you as hunky piece of meat must be my adventure. Let’s shake on it.”

She held out her cute hand, and I shook it, mine engulfing her petite one. I had limited time with preparing for the season, yet the pockets of time I had… I knew I wanted to spend it with her. I mentally went through my schedule: conditioning and strength training was 6-8 every morning, then 10-12 on ice practice. Team meetings would be 1-2, and individual skill work would be 2:30-4. Study tables would be 5-7. “My life is all about hockey, Logan, I want you to know that up front. Being friends with me and fake dating me will be hard.”

“That’s okay.” She beamed. “It’s not the quantity but the quality. I think fake dating you is gonna be real fun, Quentin Hawthorne, even with hockey.”