He grinned, pushing up the right sleeve of his arm. Ink covered from his elbow to his bicep in twisty, colorful designs. “Tattoos, but when I’m saving up or waiting for my artist to have an opening, I hang at the house. The parties aren’t crazy, if you’re worried about cops or anything. Besides, the season starts in five weeks. Have some fun before then, okay?” He clapped my shoulder and moved on toward Patrick, the captain on our team who was already drafted. The pair of them walked to the bench press. Patrick jutted his chin in greeting at me, and I returned it, feeling all sorts of conflicted.
Michael’s words reminded me of my mom, always telling me that hockey wasn’t everything. It wasruiningour lives. It couldn’t be the only thing I had.
But she failed to understand that it was the only constant in my life, even more so after she left.
My shoulders felt heavier after I showered and went to my first class where I sat through a lecture on economics. Since money was the root of most of my problems, I figured I’d learn as much about it as I could. My phone buzzed, and seeing my dad’s name, I answered. “Hey, Dad.”
“How’s it going, my boy?” he asked, the greeting always the same.
“It’s going.” I shifted my backpack onto one shoulder and walked through the crowd. A few people recognized me from the stupid billboard, but I learned if I kept my head down, they tended to leave me alone. It was very isolating to hate the fame from playing hockey. “I found a new roommate.”
“Did you? What happened to Edgar? Eddy? What was that boy’s name?”
“You were close. His name was Edward.” The reminder of that asshole got my jaw tight again. “He bailed two weeks before classes started.”
“You’ve been living there alone for two weeks? Jonah,” he said my name, piling on the guilt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“No reason to worry you. I found a new roommate to split rent with me.”
He sighed, the heavy breath hitting the phone just right. I felt his annoyance in my bones. “Stop trying to take care of me by hiding important things going on in your life. I’m your father, and it’s my job.”
I cleared my throat and changed gears. “Any luck with the interviews?”
“Ha, no.” Something rustled in the background, and I imagined him sitting on his recliner with the newspaper, circling help ads like it was twenty years ago. “I made an online profile like you suggested, but who wants a middle-aged man not well-versed in technology?”
“Keep trying, Dad. You’re a hardworking, good man. Anyone would be lucky to hire you.”
“Thanks, J.D.” He went silent for a beat, and my chest tightened at the resignation in his voice. “Enough about that. How are your classes? Can you find time this week for a dinner with me or something?”
We chatted my entire walk home, making plans for a meal Wednesday at the pizza parlor. It was an all you can eat buffet, and we liked to get our money’s worth. My chest felt lighter every time I spoke with him. I hoped he was okay on his own, even though he was out of a job and still getting over the blitz attack divorce from my mom. I missed him.
He was my best friend and the reason I needed to both have the greatest season of my life and keep my scholarship for next year. Any penny I could save for my dad was a gift.
He had to worry about paying off his lawyer fees, finding a new place where there were no memories of her, and getting a new job before his savings ran out. I could handle my end of the deal as long as I kept my scholarship on the ice.
Nothing could prevent me from achieving that goal, not even a rift with a teammate. I took the stairs two at a time, ready to demand Ryann tell her brother about our arrangement before the downfall messed with my future. The words left my mouth when I opened the door.
She broke one of the rules in less than twenty-four hours.
3
Ryann
“This isn’t what it looks like,” I said, watching flames come from Jonah’s ears. It would be funny if he didn’t look murderous. “I swear.”
He clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes at the four-year old sitting on our couch watching Paw Patrol in Spanish. Prestoninsistedhe knew the language, which was a total lie, but if Hannah’s kid wanted to pretend, who was I to stop him?
“We agreednovisitors.” He glared at the poor kid before stomping across the hardwood floor and tossing his bag into his room. He put his hands on his hips and stared me down.
Did he think I would kick a child out? Yeah, okay, grumpy.
“I’m sorry, do you believe afour-year old is going to sell pictures of you to the campus blogs? Or post photos of you on his Instagram with eight million followers? My friend was in a tough spot, and it was either take her kid to an appointment with a lawyer and have him witness an awful D-I-V-O-R-C-E or let him hang out with me for a bit. I’ll take your fury and stick-up-the-butt attitude, but don’t you dare subject P here to that garbage.”
He blinked and stared at the kid, the anger seeping out of him in one breath. The muscles in his face relaxed. It was like he literally flipped a switch to change his less-than-stellar personality. “Okay.”
“Just okay?” I bit my lip to keep from laughing. It seemed too soon to rile him up, even though the grumpy face made me want to mess with him.
“No kid should ever have to go through that.” He swallowed hard, gave Preston an unreadable look, and disappeared into his room, shutting the door and ending that lovely conversation.
