I hoped that would be a good thing. I knew that Maverick still had his doubts about me. Maybe with us moving to North Carolina, that would change. That he and I could put aside our differences and become friends. Dean stopped to give me a quick kiss, then went to wash up.
“You’re awfully quiet.” I glanced at my son, who was looking at his phone. “Everything okay?”
Cole sighed. “Maybe a little nervous about the whole college thing, but other than that, I’m good. Really. And I’m so happy for you and Dean.”
“You’re going to love college,” I assured him. I tried to put out some feelers about the NHL and if he might get drafted to the Terriers, but Coach wouldn’t tell me anything. And now that I was retired, I guess it wasn’t any of my business anymore. Cole would just have to wait and see.
He shrugged. “Yeah, I hope so.”
“You’re going to make friends, meet new people, and have the time of your life. Just wait and see.” I wrapped an arm around him to pull him into a side hug. I had a great feeling about Cole’s future. And my own with the man that I loved.
Epilogue
Dean
Going back to Canfield, again, was still surreal to me. Mav and I had stayed away for so long that, at first, it didn’t feel like home anymore. Of course, the memories were there, the good and the bad, but the more we came back, the more the horrible ones were replaced by even better ones. Happier times with the Olson family, our bandmates, and Helena.
So maybe this idea of mine wasn’t such a great one. But when I mentioned it to Maverick, he hadn’t said no. In fact, he had nodded in agreement and happily climbed into the car with me. Only now, he looked terrified. Maverick’s eyes had gone wide with fright, his hands fisted into tight fists at his side. I was terrified that he was going to have some sort of panic or anxiety attack. Jackson was going to kill me for this. I couldn’t blame him, though. I should have just come by myself. Or maybe not at all.
“It’s okay, Mav. We don’t have to go inside. Come on. Let’s go back to the car.”
He stared right at me like I wasn’t even there. Shit, this was bad. Somehow, I managed to get him to back to the car and into the passenger side.
“Should I call Jackson? Will that help? Do you want to leave?”
He nodded. Maverick’s chin quivered, then big, fat tears slipped down his cheeks. I never should have brought him withme. I thought he was strong enough, but after the abuse he had dealt with, he might never be.
“Please,” he whimpered. “I need him.”
Just as I started to slide my phone from my pocket, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. My breath caught in my throat at the sight before me. The boy—because he couldn’t have been any older than sixteen or seventeen years old—was the spitting image of Maverick and me. His hair was stark white, his eyes the same emerald green. He wore a giant smile on his face as he approached, innocence written all over him.
“You’re them,” he whispered. “My brothers.”
What in the actual fuck.
“Dean and Maverick. Right?” His smile grew wider. “Mama said you might come visit. I always hoped I would have the chance to meet you. She’s sick. Is that why you’re here?” He stopped right in front of me. He was exactly my height, too. “You look just like me.”
I stared at him. Did he say brothers? And Mama?
“What?” I gasped.
He waved at Maverick, who had looked like he had just seen a ghost. “I’m Tate. Tate Frost. I can’t believe you’re finally here. Do you want to come inside? I was just going to make soup for lunch for Mama. Would you like some?”
“Tate.” How was it possible that we had brother? One we had no idea about. “How old are you?”
He flashed that bright smile at me. “I’m eighteen, but I’ll be nineteen very soon. Mama said we could have red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting for my birthday. It’s my favorite.”
“Where’s our father, Tate?” I cringed the moment the question came out of my mouth, and I saw Maverick flinch as he wrapped his arms around himself. He had begun to tremble, and I wondered if he was on the verge of a complete meltdown. I had to call Jackson before that happened.
Tate’s entire face fell. “We don’t talk about him. He didn’t want me, but when he left, Mama came to get me and brought me back home. She said it was where I belonged.”
I guess that explained a few things, but I still had so many other questions. Like where had he been when we were kids? Who had raised him?
“He’s a piece of shit,” Maverick grumbled under his breath. “What? Are you going to tell me I’m wrong?” He climbed to his feet, his legs still a little shaky. He grabbed my hand and linked our fingers together, leaning against mine. “Where did you live before?”
Tate chewed on his bottom lip. “Aunt Abby’s. She was so nice. She and I used to make pancakes with chocolate chips for breakfast. She had a dog. Do you have a dog? Mama said we could get one once she starts to feel better.”
I could feel Maverick’s curious gaze as it dug into the side of my head. We had a brother. Why didn’t he live with us? Why had he been hidden away like some dirty secret?
