Harper
No, no, no. You don’t have to do that.
Me
I want to. It’s already done. I’m on it. And Connor’s going to love it. Trust me.
Harper
Are you serious?
I smile for the first time all morning.
Me
Dead serious. It’s his birthday, Harp. I promise I’ll take care of every single detail.
I glance toward the meeting room, knowing I’ll catch hell for walking out on a team meeting, but when my son needs me, I’m there. One hundred percent.
I type one more message to Connor before I move.
Me
Don’t you worry about a thing. The party will go on and I’ll be seeing you very soon. Happy birthday, buddy!
I’m not back inside the meeting room three seconds when I clap my hands together and announce, “Sorry, Coach, but I need a favor.”
Seven heads turn my way.
Oliver narrows his eyes at me. “You sound like you’re either about to ask for something illegal or emotionally binding.”
“Is this about Harper?” Bodhi asks immediately.
“Or Connor?” August counters.
Ledger grins. “Or both? And let’s face it, you never ask for favors so whatever made you get up and leave this meeting and then stand here asking us for help means the answer is already, hell yes. Whatever you need, my man.”
The guys all nod and their sincerity hits me square in the chest. My eyes start to water because Ledger is right. I’ve never had to ask them for help and now I’m standing here ready to cash in on all the times I’ve supported them and they’re not even questioning my request.
Well fuck.
I exhale. “It’s Connor’s birthday today and Harper’s sick. Like…can’t-get-off-the-bathroom-floor sick. That was Connor texting me because his friends are supposed to be at his place in a little under an hour and nothing has been done yet. That’s very unlike Harper, especially when that something involves Connor.”
Coach straightens, his demeanor softening from his usual hard-edged persona. “How old?”
“He’s eleven today.”
Griffin’s eyebrows lift. “Oh, that’s prime ‘best birthday ever’ age.”
“I know,” I say. “And she’s wrecked about it. I told her I’d handle it, and I meant it,” I explain, removing my ballcap and shoving my hand through my hair. “But I don’t exactly have a Pinterest board ready to go when it comes to kid birthday parties.”
Griffin nods solemnly. “Say less.”
Bodhi points a finger at me. “We throwing a hockey party?”
“I mean…is there any other kind of party to throw?”
“Fuck no.” August laughs. “We doing it here?”
