I slide onto the bed beside him to watch the game.
CHAPTER 51
JORDAN
Somewhere in the second period,I start to yawn.
“Tired?” he asks.
“Just bored. Weak offense on both sides and good goaltending.” It makes for a slow game without a lot of points or exciting moments.
He makes a noise of agreement. Our eyes meet. This is where I should head back to the guesthouse.
“Your family is in Ontario?” I ask instead.
I’m stalling, shamelessly.
He nods. “My mom and Noah.”
A pause lingers between us. “Where’s your dad?”
His eyes are steady on me. “I don’t know,” he says simply.
“Does Bea know him?”
“Nope.” I can’t read his expression, it’s so tightly controlled and neutral. One of my old tricks. “But I’m okay with that.”
“And you say I have daddy issues.”
That earns me a small, humorless smile. “I never said that.”
“You’re thinking it.”
He keeps his eyes on the game, but I get the sense he isn’t really seeing it. “My father is the kind of guy who isn’t interested in getting attached to anyone. My entire childhood, he was in and out of our lives. He’d show up for a few days and everything would be incredible, he’d be spinning my mom around the living room andmaking us laugh and taking us out for dinner and playing with my brother’s army men out in the yard.” He swallows. “And then he’d have a friend in Saskatchewan who was going to get him work or there was a job in Alberta or he’d have to go take care of something somewhere and then he’d be gone. And he wouldn’t call like he said he would, and he wouldn’t come back in a few days or weeks like he promised on the note he left, and my mom would be devastated all over again. My aunt ran into him out in Montréal once. He was out for dinner with another woman.”
There’s a weird pull in my stomach. Nausea-inducing.
“He broke my mom’s heart so many times. Broke my brother’s heart. I would never subject Bea to that.”
“And what about you?”Did he break your heart?
His eyes come to mine. “I knew better.”
A sharp sadness aches through my chest. No kid should have to “know better” for something like this.
“It’s okay, Jordan.” His mouth tilts into a sad smile. “He was a blueprint for the kind of man I don’t want to be.”
“You’re the most reliable person I’ve ever met,” I admit.
“I appreciate that. I try.”
“When was the last time you heard from him?”
“Back when I was in the minors. I answered the phone at my mom’s house.” He laughs, short and dry. “I thought maybe he’d reach out when I signed my NHL contract. But no.” His mouth presses into a firm line. “He didn’t reach out. That’s the thing about him, though, he never needed anyone or anything.”
My stomach flips over in the worst way. That’s how I feel, but I’d never want to hurt someone the way Tate’s dad has obviously hurt him.
Tate reaches for the remote and tosses it to me. “You can change it.”
