“And hockey isn’t everything. Your dad could have played more at the end.” Big Ed says his mouth is full of pizza. Grady walks around placing an open beer on a coaster for everyone, and I want to joke about how comfortable he is in my house. But also—Grady’s fucking awesome, and I don’t feel like ragging on him tonight. “I wanted him to, of course, but he shook his head and said he wanted to spend more time with his family. Because he knew he’d regret the time he didn’t spend with you when he was old, but he’d never wish he’d played more hockey.”
“He prioritized what he wanted.” I nod. “Fuck I miss him.”
“He was one of the best.” Big Ed picks up his beer and clinks it against mine, sitting on the table.
“Okay,” Grady settles in a leather armchair nearby. “Now that we’ve got the mushy stuff out of the way let’s strategize telling Aulie how we feel.”
“We?”
“Like we’re letting you figure this out on your own.”
“I’m fine.” I wave him off. “I appreciate all of your concerns, but I’ve got this. Why don’t we watch something mindless that blows up on TV and chill?”
“I like documentaries personally.” Wes burps.
Loading up my streaming device, I wince when I see it littered with regency romance stuff and hope the guys don’t rag on me too much.
“No offense, Jack— “Coop starts.
“I used my account on Aulie’s TV so she could watch whatever after surgery. She’s wicked into this regency stuff.”
Grady’s lips curve, mouth full of pizza. “You don’t say.”
“So, is there one we’re supposed to start with?” Coop asks. “Like, is it a series or something?”
“We’re not watching Jane Austen movies.” I groan.
“Oh, no. We are,” Grady says. “Hold him down and take the remote, Big Ed.”
* * *
The morning sunsheds its warm rays in my apartment. I rub my temple with a groan. I haven’t slept on the couch or pulled an all-nighter since college, and my body is officially too old for this.
Grady picks up his head, wiping drool from his lips. “So, what do we think? Should we write a letter like Captain Wentworth?”
Why the hell does he keep using “we”? This is a me and Aulie thing.
I shake my head. “I’m a worse writer than a verbal communicator.”
The boys collectively wince.
“Wouldn’t want to risk that then,” Coop says, checking his phone. At some point, he set up a portable monitor and laid Carson down in my bed . “Can somebody tell Mandy this is really what we did? I think she will think it’s a cover for something.”
“Maybe we take the Mr. Knightley approach then. His confession about riding through the rain was very romantic.” Big Ed picked up his phone. “I’m going to call Maria and then order us some hangover food.” He rubs at his temple. “I shouldn’t have tried to keep up with you last night.”
Aulie, oh shit.
“Fuck.” I exclaim, shooting up and checking my phone. It’s dead and I groan. “I was supposed to call Aulie last night, and—fuck—should I plug this in and call her now? Should I blurt it out on the phone? If one you finds the monologue, I’ll read it to her.”
“No fucking way. We’re going up to Chawton Falls. Do it in person,” Grady says. “But I think what you say has to come from the heart—vulnerability from a big strong man, that’s the key.”
I shake my head. “You like romance way too much.”
“And yet, romance has never loved me.”
ChapterForty
Jack Parker
