“Because he’s now bonded to you forever. Always. And you two loved each other for ten years. I’ve been in Landon’s life for way less.”
“I think you’ve been in his heart longer than we both know,” Angie says and sighs, as if letting go of any feelings that thought has brought her. Shaking her head quickly, she smiles again. “Look, we’ll figure it all out as we go. I’ll text you once I have the appointment for the test.”
I open the front door, and she steps through it. As she grips the rail to start down the stairs, and the icy wind nips at my bare legs, I can’t help but ask one last question. “How are you so calm?”
She looks at me over her shoulder, her blond hair flying about her face in the wind. “I’ve already had so many meltdowns and freak-outs there’s just nothing left. Also, I’ve come to terms with this. And I had faith you two were both the good men I thought you were. So far, I’m not disappointed.”
She continues down the stairs, and I watch until she’s safely on the street below. Then I close my door and lean against it.
I really fucked things up with Landon. Even if Angie and him really don’t reunite, maybe it’s for the best. How do you have a secret relationship with a teammate and his newborn? You don’t. You let him go.
Chapter 34
Landon
“Casco!” Coach’s voice is sharper than my skates, and with good reason. I really should have had that pass.
“Sorry!” I call out and scramble to retrieve the puck.
“Don’t be sorry, dude, just get your head out of your ass,” Conner says as she skates by.
“Yeah. Trying.” I can’t explain exactly why I’ve been playing like shit, in games and practices, for the last week.
I’m not being paid millions to let my personal life get so completely out of control that I can’t do my job. I know this. But fuck. I have been able to concentrate on nothing other than the fact that I might be a dad since Angie showed up. It’s messing with every part of my life. I’m avoiding my parents' phone calls and texts, and my sibling group chat is being ignored. The most I do is thumbs up shit, Lola and Callan write. Thank God Winnie and Landon are away, they went to San Francisco to visit my Aunt Sadie, so they haven’t seen Angie yet and don’t know about this situation. At least by the time they get back, we’ll have an answer on paternity and a plan on what to say and do.
“Garrison. Look alive!” Coach shouts, and I turn to see Grady sweeping a puck out of the back of his net angrily. He must be distracted, too.
Our eyes meet for a second, but I look away. I’m still wounded from how quickly he jumped ship on our relationship. He truly believes I should go back to dating Angie? Like the chemistry between him and me will just magically disappear? Or that I’ll be able to ignore it and not be fucking miserable? Does he think that because he’ll be able to just push me and his feelings aside? Maybe he doesn’t have any feelings, and this was the out he was hoping for?
“Casco!” Abbott snaps as the pass he just shot me in this drill sails right by my stick.
“Got it,” I call back and chase it down, managing to get it and shoot it to the next guy, albeit sloppily, before I ruin the whole sequence.
I manage to focus, moderately, for the rest of the practice. When Coach tells us we’re done for the day, Grady skates over to me. “Can you stick around a minute? I want someone to take a few more shots.”
“No.”
“But I really need the help.”
“Ask someone else.”
He pivots so he’s skating backwards right in front of me now. “Landon, you need the extra time, too. We both blew it this practice.”
“Don’t fucking care. Ask someone else.”
“You’re a fucking child,” he mutters, and it’s like his words are a match. They light the fuse on my very short temper.
As Grady stops and begins skating in the other direction, I turn and follow, using my stick to cross-check him in the shoulders, not hard, but hard enough that he almost crashes to the ice. How he manages to save himself with all that equipment on is beyond me, but he does, and I’m kind of grateful. As soon as I do it, I regret it.
“Hey!” our assistant coach, Seb Deveau, yells at us. Luckily, not many other teammates and no other coaches are left on the ice.
Grady rights himself and spins and grabs the front of my jersey, yanking me into him like I’m made of Styrofoam. “This isn’t just happening to you, you fucking ass.”
“Really? Is the person you’ve developed feelings for acting like you meant nothing?” I snap back.
He uses his grip on my jersey to give me a good shake, and I grab his jersey back, dropping my stick and gloves. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Make me you fucking coward.”
