Page 18

18

WYATT

“Last day of the break,” I say the next morning. It’s nearly eleven, and we’re still in bed. “We practice tomorrow.”

“You need to practice, since you’re so fat and lazy.”

I laugh and pin her to the bed. “You calling me fat?”

“You said it yourself.”

I lean down to kiss her, enjoying her teasing, enjoying the feel of her beneath me in my bed. But I have something to tell her. Ask her? And I’m glitching a little about it. I draw back and gaze into her eyes. “Are you going to yoga class?”

“I should . . . but . . .”

“I have something I have to do today.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She thinks I’m brushing her off. “I want you to come with me.”

She blinks. “Where?”

“To see a friend of mine and her son.”

A tiny notch forms between her eyebrows. “A friend?”

“Yes. I promised I would take Owen to the zoo.”

She gazes back at me. “Okay.”

“We can stop by your place if you want to change. Heather lives on Franklin Avenue, it’s not far.”

“That would be good. My heels wouldn’t be the best for the zoo.”

Am I doing the right thing? I’ve never even told people about Heather and Owen, let alone taken anyone to meet them. I don’t really know why I’m doing it.

We stop at a café and get coffees and bagels to go, then continue on to Everly’s place. I sit at her table with my phone, sipping my coffee, while she goes upstairs to change. Again, I feel that sense of calm that her condo creates, with all the light and the fresh scent and lack of clutter.

I smile when she returns, now wearing jeans, a black-and-white-striped T-shirt, and bright red Converse sneakers. Very zoo appropriate, and yet totally pulled together and polished. That’s Everly.

She sits too, to eat her bagel. “I haven’t been to the zoo in years.”

“Owen loves it. That day we ran into you, we’d been at the aquarium. He likes that too. He’s really into animals.”

“Cool. How old is he?”

“Just turned six.” I tip my head. “The night of the Birds Banquet?”

“Yeah . . . ?”

“It was his birthday party. That’s why I was late.”

“Oh.” She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip briefly. “I was a bitch to you about that.”

“Nah, not a bitch. You were doing your job.”

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

I shrug. “It’s fine. I know I have responsibilities to the team. But I’d promised him I’d be there, and Heather needed help with a rowdy bunch of five- and six-year-olds. We changed the time of the party, so I managed to do both.”

She eyes me over her coffee cup. “Owen must be very special to you.”

“I know what you’re thinking. Heather is just a friend. Actually, her husband was my friend.” I pause, my throat squeezing as it often does when I think about Hank. “He was my best friend. He died a couple of years ago.” I cough. “So I help Heather and Owen.”

Her eyes warm and her mouth softens. “I’m sorry. What happened to him?”

I give my head a sharp shake. “Rather not talk about it.” The air in the room has grown heavy and thick. “You know what they say... life is short. So smile while you still have teeth.”

She laughs, but I can see she’s still thoughtful.

We make the short drive to Heather’s place and park in front of her little bungalow, Spanish-style stucco with a red tile roof.

“Should I wait here?” Everly asks.

“No, come in. You should meet Heather.”

She follows me up the sidewalk. The yard is getting overgrown. I should come trim back some of these shrubs. I ring the doorbell and Heather opens the door as Owen zooms up behind her and skids to a stop in his sock feet. “Wyatt’s here! Wyatt’s here!”

“Hey, buddy!”

“Come in!” Heather beams a smile at me. Then her gaze lands on Everly behind me and her smile disappears.

I step inside and take Everly’s hand, tugging her into the small foyer too. When I look back at Heather, the smile is back, dimmer but determined. “Hello...”

“Heather, this is Everly. Everly, my friend Heather, and... my best little buddy, Owen.”

“Nice to meet you,” Heather says, extending a hand. “Everly Wynn, right?”

“Yes. Nice to meet you too.” They shake hands. Everly turns to Owen. “And nice to meet you, Owen.”

“Hi.” He studies her intently. Kids.

“Everly’s going to come to the zoo with us, buddy.”

“Okay.”

“Here’s your backpack,” Heather says, now frowning faintly.

“I don’t wanna take my backpack.”

“I’ll carry it, bud,” I say. “Sunscreen? Hat? Water?”

“Check, check, check,” Heather says, smiling again. Her gaze darts between me and Everly and I sense the curiosity on both their parts.

Heather’s a beautiful woman—long golden-blond hair, big blue eyes. I know this, but I’ve never been attracted to her. She was married to my best friend. I hope Everly isn’t jealous, because there’s no reason to be.

And I hope Heather likes Everly. Owen too.

“Okay, the zoo closes at five today, so we’ll be back around then.”

Heather nods. “Sounds good. Have fun!” She hugs Owen, who then hurtles down the sidewalk toward my SUV.

Owen chatters about the animals he wants to see at the zoo, entertaining us. At least, Everly seems entertained, laughing and asking Owen questions with what seems like genuine interest.

We approach the entrance, Owen skipping along.

Everly points to the condors’ rescue zone. “Look. They rescue hockey players like Wyatt.”

Owen giggles. “That’s not rescuing hockey players!” he tells Everly. “Condors are real birds. They used to be exkinked.”

“Ah.” She nods.

I pay our admissions and we head in through the gates. It’s a sunny day, nice and warm, and we get him sunscreened up and a hat on his head before we move too far.

I hold up the sunscreen bottle to Everly. “Need some?”

“I’m okay. I put on sunscreen at home.” She slides her big sunglasses onto her nose.

Owen’s enthusiasm always makes the zoo fun, and Everly seems to feel it too. He doesn’t like to spend too long at each exhibit, dashing on to the next one. We pause to watch keepers feeding Tasmanian devils, which fascinates Owen.

“They’re really aggressive,” I comment as they attack some kind of small animal and make scary noises.

“They’re going crazy!” Owen says, wide-eyed.

“They look like Wyatt when he gets a steak,” Everly says to Owen and he laughs.

I shoot her an amused glance. “Ha.” I nudge Owen. “They have no table manners.”

He laughs again.

After that, we move on. “I wanna see the grillas!” Owen says. “I like grillas.”

We stop for a late lunch of tacos, and a bathroom break, then wander on. Owen’s pace is slowing, so I carry him on my shoulders for a while.

“I learned about giraffes at school,” Owen tells us when we arrive there. “Their tongues are this long!” He holds his arms wide. “And their tongue is black!”

“Wow.” Everly looks impressed.

“Also, giraffes only sleep a little bit. And they sleep standing up because if they lay down they might be attacked.”

“He’s smart,” Everly murmurs to me.

I squeeze her hand. “Yep.”

“Can we feed them? Please?”

“Sure, buddy.” It costs extra, but only a few bucks. And it’s a cool experience.

When we’re done there, we move on.

“Look, Everly!” Owen tugs her other hand. “Monkeys!”

“Chimpanzees,” I correct him.

“Right. They’re funny!”

“They are,” Everly agrees. “Oh my gosh! What’s happening?”

A fight has broken out. One chimp is chasing another with a stick and screaming.

“Looks like a hockey game!” Everly says, cracking Owen up again. Okay, and me.

Everyone around is laughing at the animals and the show they’re putting on. One chimp stops and beats his chest. Owen dies laughing.

We take one more rest and buy some ice cream before heading out to get a tired boy home. He falls asleep in the backseat.

“He’s adorable,” Everly says quietly. “He really loves you.”

I smile. “I think he’s in love with you, actually. He wouldn’t let go of your hand.”

She laughs softly.

I wake up Owen when we’re at his place. “I was just resting my eyes,” he says, rubbing them.

“That’s good, buddy.”

Heather greets us with big smiles for Owen and more reserved smiles for Everly and me. Often Heather asks me to stay for dinner after I’ve taken Owen out, but she doesn’t today, so I hug my little guy. He wants to hug Everly too, and she kneels down to give him a squeeze. “I had fun,” she tells him. “You taught me a lot about animals.”

“Everly is funny,” Owen tells his mom.

“It was lovely to meet you both,” Everly says, standing and facing Heather. “He’s a great kid.”

“Thanks.” Heather’s smile is tight.

“He’s so smart. He knew how long a giraffe’s tongue is.” She grins. “And elephants are the only animals that can’t jump. I love his curiosity.”

Heather’s pride shines on her face. “He is very smart.”

“See you soon, Heath.” I set my hand on the small of Everly’s back to usher her out of the house. We wave goodbye and leave.

Everly is quiet in the vehicle.

I glance at her as I drive. “Tired?”

“Yeah. All that fresh air and sunshine.” She smiles. “I could fall asleep like Owen.” She pauses. “Are you and Heather really just friends?”

“Yes.” I hesitate, then ask, “Why?”

“She didn’t seem very happy to meet me.”

“Sure she did.”

Her smile is skeptical. “Well, maybe I’m wrong. Just a feeling I got. Thanks for bringing me along, it was fun.”

EVERLY

I’m a mess.

I think I’m falling in love.

The last time I thought I was in love with someone, it turned into an epic disaster. It terrifies me. Excites me. Makes me want things I’m not sure I can ever have.

Because, like the last time, I’m falling for the wrong guy.

Ever since Wyatt took me to the zoo, I’ve been messed up. Seeing him with Owen made my heart swell up huge in my chest. He loves that boy. His best friend’s son.

His best friend died, and he can’t talk about it. That makes my swollen heart ache for him.

The fact that he trusts me enough to tell me about Heather and Owen makes my feelings for him expand. But he’s not telling me everything, and I wish he would.

I’m seeing past the front he puts on for everyone—the jokester, the partier. He’s the honey badger of the hockey world—he just doesn’t give a shit.

Except he does.

I’ve seen how much he cares about his friends. I’ve now seen how much he cares about Owen and Heather. Clearly he cared about his dead friend.

Maybe... he even cares about me. A little. He does things for me, like bringing me coffee, and cleaning my kitchen. When we’re in bed (or the shower) he’s thoughtful and generous and focused on giving me what I need.

But thinking thoughts like that will get in me in trouble. He doesn’t care about his reputation. He thinks life is a big party. Well, okay, knowing that his friend died so young, I get that now. But still, life is about goals and accomplishments and making people proud of you.

I miss him.

How pathetic.

We saw each other a bunch of times during the All Star break, and now the team is off on a road trip to Toronto, Montreal, and Ottawa. They’ll be back tomorrow, Friday, and it’s crazy that I can’t wait to see him.

I have lots to keep me busy at work, meetings with stakeholders, proposals to review, reports to write, so I’m putting in some long hours. I do go to yoga class on Wednesday night because I know yoga’s good for me. And I’ve set up our next family meeting to discuss progress on ending the stupid family feud. Tonight I’m going out with Lacey. I need to talk to someone.

Wyatt texts me a few times while he’s away, so I know he’s thinking about me too. His parents flew to Montreal for the game there, and he’s clearly happy to spend some time with them. I’m trying to keep things casual and breezy, though, sending him funny GIFs and memes instead of sad face emojis and telling him how much I miss him.

I meet Lacey at Food for Thought again, one of our favorite places.

“I need a big glass of wine,” I announce, picking up the menu.

“Uh-oh. Bad day at the office?”

“Nah, just busy. I’m kind of stressed about something else, though.”

“Wyatt?”

My head snaps up. “Why do you say that?”

She smiles. “Wild guess.”

I choose a Sauvignon Blanc and she orders the same.

“Okay, what’s up?” She eyes me expectantly. “Why are you stressed?”

“I have a little problem.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“I think I’m falling for him.”

“Is he why you bailed on yoga class Saturday? Taylor told me.”

“Yeah. He asked me to go to the zoo with him.”

“Aw. So why is this such a problem?” Her forehead furrows. “He doesn’t feel the same?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t had that conversation yet, and I don’t know if we should. I mean, I think he likes me. We didn’t have to keep seeing each other once we’d done our duty for the team.” I roll my eyes. “But...” I drop my eyes to my hands on the table. “There’s something I’ve never told you about.”

I don’t speak for so long, she asks dryly, “Are you going to tell me now? Or you just wanted to let me know you have a secret...”

I give a short laugh. “I’ll tell you some of it.” I sit back so the waiter can place my wineglass in front of me. I reach for it and take a gulp. “Lovely,” I say, though I barely tasted it.

Lacey snorts.

“Okay. When I was sixteen, I got involved with a... a man.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “A man?”

“Yes.” I clear my throat. “He played for the Condors.”

“You were sixteen ?”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “I know. I was a crazy teenager.”

“I have a hard time picturing that,” she says slowly. “I don’t believe you were ever young and crazy. You’re so together and mature.”

“Well, maybe I wasn’t young and crazy. Maybe I was just trying to be. I thought I was in love. It was... glorious. You know—passionate, obsessive, teenage love.”

“Mmm.”

“He was older, obviously.”

“Um, how old, exactly? I mean, there are guys who play in the NHL who are teenagers...”

“Twenty-eight.”

Her eyes pop open.

I nod. “I know. Anyway. I don’t really have daddy issues, even though it might seem like that. I do like older men, but it’s not to fill an emotional void left by my father. He was mostly there for me.”

“Mostly,” she says in that dry tone again.

“Okay, he was gone a lot. He was busy. Also, he was busy with the boys... because they played hockey.”

“You’ve been to therapy, I take it.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I don’t know your therapist, but that sounds a lot like an absent father to me.”

I nod slowly in agreement. “Yeah. I don’t want to blame him for my weird hang-ups, though. He’s a good dad, really.”

“So... you’ve always wanted a protective, older male figure as your romantic partner.”

“Apparently. I really I thought I loved this guy. And there’s more. He was... married.”

“Oh my God.”

“I was a stupid kid.” I plead with her with my eyes to not judge me. “I know it was a mistake.”

“ He was a fucking assbucket. What kind of man would do that? Jesus! You were a child!”

“Yes. I know that now.”

“You’re not going to tell me who it is.”

“No.” I wrinkle my nose. “It’s enough to say that obviously when my dad found out about it, he went berserk.”

She closes her eyes. “I can only imagine.”

“So there’s the problem... Wyatt’s not an older guy, but he plays for my dad’s team. And he is someone who doesn’t care about his reputation, so dating me... no big deal. He doesn’t care what people say. The media loves it right now, but... what if... what if... we try to have a real relationship and things go wrong? I can’t do that to my family again.”

Lacey’s brows pull together. “Did it get out the last time? When you were a teenager?”

“Not so much.” I bite my lip. “My dad threw some money around and things got buried.”

“And I bet a certain player got traded.”

I nod slowly. “My parents were so disappointed in me. It was the worst time of my life. I knew I’d messed up, but I didn’t want to admit it, and I was pissed off at them for ending things with the man I loved, who I thought was leaving his wife to be with me.” I drop my head forward, the remembered shame scalding inside me. “I wasn’t exactly a joy to deal with. I even tried to run away.”

“Wow.” She lets out a long breath. “Wow. Okay, first of all, you’re not sixteen. You’re twenty-seven. Wyatt’s what... ?”

“Twenty-six.”

“Phhht.” Lacey waves a hand. “This is not a big deal.”

“I can’t screw up again! I can’t fall for a guy who plays for the team my dad owns! I let this go too far, it should have just been a few very public dates and now emotions have gotten involved and it’s a big mess.”

She studies me across the table. “Ah, Ev. I’m sorry. Maybe you should talk to Wyatt about it.”

“I can’t.” I shake my head. “I can’t tell him about that.”

She sips her wine, clearly pondering. “Well, here’s what I say. If you love him and want any hope of a relationship with him... you have to tell him. That’s what a relationship is... honesty.” She sips her wine again. “And if you tell him and he can’t handle it, then you couldn’t have had a relationship anyway.”

I think about her words. I’m not sure I buy in to them, though. “Okay, I’ll think about that.”