I hop over the boards. Coach Braddock walks up behind me as I sit down and grabs me by both shoulders. He leans in. “I knew it.”
I glance up at him and he grins and winks before I turn my focus back to the ice. Everyone is looking up at the Jumbotron as the refs get ready to set the face-off at center ice. The screen is showing Uncle Devin’s face where he sits in the press box. He’s grinning and he turns his phone toward the screen. It’s a video chat and my dad’s face is there, grinning wildly. I can see the pride. So can everyone else. I give the screen a thumbs up as best I can with my gloves on.
Then I look away and focus my eyes on my skates to rein in the emotions running through me. I still have a game to finish and consequences to deal with after this. I am not going to back down on breaking this record, so I need to tell everyone about Dylan ASAP.
Chapter21
Mallory
I’m happy for him. I really am. But I’m also still humiliated. I know Tenley knows about me and Tate. She hasn’t said a word but the girl is ridiculously intelligent and she has read the signs. She also knows her brother. She wasn’t at all shocked when that horny video got played. She looked upset but not shocked.
I was shocked. It felt like I had been whacked in the face with the frying pan I was holding. That’s why as soon as Tenley left, and Tate was still upstairs, I left too. I wasn’t ready to talk about it with him. To admit I not only want to be his only ‘bed buddy’ but I need to be. So instead I went to the beach with Dylan. I sat there and watched him play in the sand and tried to run through every possible conversation we might have about this.
The first was he would say sorry but it wasn’t like we were exclusive. Only people in a relationship are exclusive. We’re in an agreement. I’m cool, right? If not, let’s just end this now so we can stay friends.
The next version was that he told me it was from an older lover, not a current one. He was going to tell her he was involved with someone and he would promise it wouldn’t happen again. Because I was all he wanted. This thing, me and him, was enough for him.
I felt tears prick my eyes as that second scenario ran through my brain because it was such a pathetic fantasy.
After I was sure he would be gone to the arena, I collected Dylan and drove home after breaking down and stopping at Trader Joe's for some pre-made meals because cooking was the last thing I wanted to do. And after Dylan was bathed and in bed, I Door Dashed a pint of Cold Stones Birthday Cake Remix and when it arrived I settled in and watched his game in the yard overlooking the canal because Crew had a TV built into the outdoor fireplace there.
With the Canal water lapping beyond the rod iron fence and the warm California air blowing in my hair, I watched Tate Garrison inch ever closer to beating his dad's record. I also noticed his uncle on the Jumbotron. The TV announcer proclaimed, "This family is wild. I feel like they should do genetic testing on them. They get more and more talented each generation."
To which the other announcer added, “Did you know Silver Bay, Maine, produces more hockey players, per capita, than any other place in the United States. They’re only beat globally by Thunder Bay, Ontario, Canada.”
“Yeah. I know,” I mutter and shovel the last of the Cold Stones into my mouth.
“Must be something in the water supply over there.” The first announcer chuckles but I stop listening to their banter because the screen is now just Tate’s face on the bench.
His coach leans in from behind and whispers something to him and he smiles. His face is red from exertion and damp with sweat, which you can see through his visor, but his eyes twinkle. His mouth is spread in a wide, proud grin. He looks so devastatingly handsome all I can do is stare longingly. Because I may get to be naked with him just about every night, but he’s not really mine. And that hurts.
The Quake win the game. I pull up my phone and re-read Tate’s message asking me to stay up. I don’t want to but I know I’m going to have to have this conversation with him at some point. Might as well stop avoiding the inevitable.
I head back into the house and wait for him on the couch in the living room. I stretch out and play Wordle on my phone to distract myself and keep my mind from anxiously predicting how this conversation will go again. He must take longer than normal to get home because I end up falling asleep.
I wake up to the feeling of being lifted into his arms. My eyes flutter open and I see him looking down at me with a soft smile. “Sorry baby girl. The press was relentless tonight. Everyone wanted to talk to me. I got home as soon as could.”
“We need to talk,” I mumble as I lift my left arm and rub the sleep from my eyes. “Put me down. Let’s do this.”
He lets out a rough chuckle, probably at the unenthusiastic tone in my voice. Like I would rather be picking porcupine quills off an alligator. If that was an option, I might take it. We reach the landing of the second floor, the one where both my and Dylan’s bedrooms are located, and he pauses. I expect to be let down, kissed on the cheek, and sent to my room.
“Is he adapting to his new room?” Tate asked. “Or did he freak out?”
I shake my head. “He did just fine. He had his own room in England so I think he remembers what it was like to sleep alone. Plus that new crib you ordered is great. He is so comfy in it I almost wanted to crawl in there with him.”
Tate smiles. “If your mattress sucks, I can get you a new one.”
He starts up the last set of stairs to his bedroom. Without putting me down. Okay, I’m wide awake now. “No. I mean, it’s fine. What are you doing?”
“Taking you to bed,” Tate replies. “My bed. My mattress is admittedly better. I ordered it from the Four Seasons.”
“The place we stayed that time?” I stutter out the words.
“Yeah. But we almost always stay in Four Seasons on the road. It’s why I picked the Beverly Wilshire when we were too drunk to drive,” Tate explains as we mount the last stair and he uses his elbow to flip on the light in his room. “I know they’re a Four Seasons and their beds are the best. You can order their bedding and mattresses online, directly from their supplier, which is what I did when I bought the townhouse. For me, not the guest room. But I’ll order you one tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to. I swear my mattress is fine.”
He walks right over to his own bed and bends, laying me down in the middle of it. He hovers over me for a second, just long enough to press a chaste kiss to my lips. "You deserve better than fine."
