“And your parents,” he rambles. “Can you imagine your dad’s reaction? And?—”
I hit the emergency button and the elevator jolts. “JJ, stop.”
Eyes widening, he runs a hand over his face. “I’m so sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” I say, aggravation bleeding into my tone. “You have a beautiful daughter. Don’t apologize for that. I’m happy for you. And your parents are going to love her, one thousand percent. But my dad,” I stare up at the ceiling and shake my head. “She can’t be in his life.”
“What?”The single word is dripping with confusion.
I flatten my lips together and sigh, forcing myself to look at him.
“I don’t want to be a mother.”
Confusion turns to pain. “What are you saying?”
I keep my shoulders back and my head high. I won’t waver. Because even though Tabitha forced my hand, it’s the truth. “I’msaying that I need to focus on my career, and you should focus on that little girl. She needs you.”
He stumbles back like I hit him. “And you don’t?” he asks, this time with shock and a decent dose of disdain.
It hurts, the way he’s looking at me now, but I shake my head, holding back the tears. “No, JJ, I don’t.”
THIRTY
JJ
Present
Last night was a turningpoint of sorts. Sitting on the roof with Adeline, celebrating in the way we used to, brought me clarity.
I respect that she doesn’t want to risk her career for a relationship. The issue is similar to the one we faced that night four years ago. But back then, I didn’t see it from her perspective. I was so angry. So pissed. So goddamn hurt. I did things I never should have done and I reacted in ways I’m not proud of. Yet she took it all. She held her head high, walked away, and chased her dream. And she was right to do so.
I, on the other hand, sought revenge, married the revenge, and destroyed the last vestiges of our friendship.
I punch the pillow beside me. None of that matters anymore. I’ll do things differently this time. I’ll listen when she asks for space. I’ll be her friend and support her both at work and at home. And while I’m doing that, I’ll get my life sorted. That way when I go to her the next time, when I beg her to give us a shot once again, we’ll actually have a chance.
I jump out of bed, determined. The team is flying out this afternoon and then we’ll be on the road for three games. Then we’ve got a full week in Boston. Thank god. I hate leaving Avery. If Vivi wasn’t alsotaking care of Hope’s and Winnie’s kids, I’d have her traveling with us so my little girl could come as well. But this is better for her. She needs routine, and it’s why I moved into the brownstone to begin with.
I snag a shirt from the dresser and throw it over my head, then I step into the hallway.
The house is quiet. Luckily, the kids all seem to be pretty good sleepers. The big ones, at least, and since they share a room, they often end up playing first thing in the morning rather than coming out in search of food.
Warmth blooms in my chest. That’s not a terrible way to grow up. Maybe I’m not doing such an awful job after all. I wish I could give her the mother she deserves, but we’re doing the best we can, and that has to count for something.
The floor creaks down the hall, catching my attention, and when I turn, Brayden is peeking out the door that leads to Vivi’s loft wearing last night’s suit, sans jacket. The white button-down shirt is open, his sleeves rolled up. And there’s a backward Bolts hat on his head. That’s standard. The only time he’s not wearing a cap like that is when he’s on the ice. His shoes are in one hand and his phone is in the other. He’s typing away, head down, oblivious to my presence.
I lean against the wall, smirking. “Going somewhere?”
Cursing, he drops his phone. “Fucking A, JJ. Why the hell are you standing in the hall like a creep?”
I laugh. Loud. “Me? A creep? Did you or did you not just step out of the bedroom that belongs to our coach’sdaughter? That’s much more creepy than sleeping with the coach.”
He scowls. “One, saying it like that implies said coach is Gavin. Gross. He’s sixty and like a second dad to me. Two, I didn’t sleep with anyone last night.”
Pushing off the wall, I open my mouth to retort.
Before I can, he shakes his head. “I’m not finished. Three, I’m here because I’m a good guy. I made sure our coach’s very young, very drunk daughter got home last night. Don’t compare that to you trying to romance your goalie coach.” He shakes his head. “We are not the same.”
“Fuck, you’re in a foul mood.”
