“He really did. That was the lead-in to the lecture. Then, he sent me to talk to Aaron, who followed up with a lecture of his own. I’m on my way to Marcos’ apartment now—figured I might as well round out the night with a lecture trifecta.”
“Is he going to be mad you lied to him?” I ask nervously. I haven’t met Marcos yet, but Nate loves him, which I hope means he’s a good guy.
“I didn’tlie, Mick, I just…danced around the truth a little bit. I told him I was going to practice, but I didn’t tell him exactly what I was doing there. He thinks I’ve been sitting on the sidelines watching, or doing light gym workouts.”
Shaking my head, I let myself into my dorm and immediately lock the door behind me. I’m pretty sure the distinction between a lie and “dancing around the truth” isn’t going to matter to Marcos. Not when something bad could have happened to Nate.
“You’re definitely in for another lecture,” I agree.
“I don’t know why everyone is so bent out of shape.” He huffs, truck door slamming in the background. “I’m fine. It’s just bruised ribs. I was at the first week of practice and nothing happened, right?”
“Right, except Desmond noticed, so.”
“Oh well. Aaron said I could do light gym workouts, but no ice time. Out for two weeks for sure, and then we will reassess.”
“Well, that’s not so bad,” I say consolingly. I know how much he was looking forward to his last season on the team.
“Yeah. Hey, speaking of Desmond the hottie. I saw you talking to him, and you were barely red at all. Wrangled that crush into submission, did you?”
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. It’s not my fault I’m attracted to him. It’s not like I can control it. And he’s really nice. Like,reallynice. I like that.”
“Coach Mackenzie is nice too, which you’d know if you didn’t run away from him every time he tried to talk to you.”
“Says the guy who just spent an hour being yelled at by Coach Mackenzie,” I fire back. He’s right, though. Coach is nice, and he’s never done anything to me beyond giving me far too many chances as a starting goalie. If he wasn’t nice, he would have kicked my worthless ass off the team long ago.
“If we’re just going by hotness scale though, you’re right. Desmond wins over Coach, no contest. Hard to beat the accent.”
“And the eyes. And the curls,” I mutter, blushing. God, how embarrassing. I shouldn’t be thinking about this, or having this conversation with Nate. Coaching staff should not be sexualized.Ever. “We have to stop talking about this.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I’m home—at Marcos’, I mean, anyway. You good?”
“I’m good. Back at the dorms. See you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow, Micky Mouse. Pray for me,” he adds in a whisper, and I can hear the gentle background noise of a door opening.
We hang up, and I don’t bother sending any prayers his direction. I doubt he’ll need them. If there’s one thing I know about Nate, it’s that he’s good at getting out of trouble. Marcos will probably be mad for all of thirty seconds, until Nate bats his eyelashes and acts cute. Pretty people truly have all the luck.
4
Desmond
On the wayback from the supermarket, Parker munches happily on a bag of chips I was coerced into buying. Even after having custody of him for over half a year, I’m still floored at the sheer amount of food the kid can put away. I don’t remember eatingthatmuch as a pre-teen. Certainly not the caloric intake Parker manages to ingest. My carefully planned budget was blown to smithereens after a single trip to the supermarket.
In fact, my budget has been rendered completely obsolete, because apparently having children is the most expensive thing one can do in this country. When the lawyer had told me I was named beneficiary of Victoria and Paul’s estate, I’d assumed they must have had investments or savings for Parker set aside. Unfortunately, they didn’t. Nobody expects to die in their thirties, and clearly my sister and her husband were among that demographic. They thought they’d have time.
Now, I constantly think about the money I got from selling their house. The money from their life insurance policies. All of it tucked away in a high-interest savings account for Parker to have when he turns eighteen. The thought of spending that money—even on things like rent or food—makes me lightheaded with unease. It’s notmine.
No. I’ll raise Parker with my own paychecks and add to the savings as much as possible, even if it’s nothing more than fifty dollars a month. We’ll be fine.I can do this, I mentally reassure my sister, but she only laughs.
“What time do you have to leave?” Parker asks, and I glance at the rearview mirror just in time to see chip crumbles fall onto his shirt. I need to vacuum the car.
“Not until two.” I check the dashboard clock to make sure time is still moving at the same pace. “Puck drop is at four thirty.”
He doesn’t answer, already having lost interest. I’d hoped he’d want to come to the game tonight, since it’s on home ice, but the offer had been met with a stony rejection and a declaration of how stupid hockey was. When I’d told Nico not to bother setting aside any special tickets for me, he’d only chuckled and saidwe’ll keep a seat for him, just in case he changes his mind.
“Did you want to—” I break off, distracted by a figure walking down the footpath. I’d recognize that beautiful red hair and wide back anywhere. Parker sits forward in his seat, stretching the seat belt as he tries to see what interrupted me. I glance at him. “Hey, Parks, sit back.”
“Ugh.” He groans, rolling his eyes and flopping back. “What are you looking at? Who is that?”
