That hits harder than it should, considering we’re not even officially anything.
With that bleak thought, I head inside.
Remy is standing at the boards in faded light-blue jeans rolled up at the cuffs and an oversized sweater that swallows her frame. She’s staring out at the crease. The soft sweater and messy hair situation are not helping my ability to behave normally around her.
“You’re early,” I say. Seeing her here before everyone else feels weirdly intimate.
She jumps, having evidently failed to notice my approach. “Oh! Geeze, yeah. You snuck up on me there.”
“Couldn’t sleep?”
Her hair falls loose around her shoulders. She looks so soft and casual. Comfortable, instead of buttoned-up and rigid. “Yeah. I was a little…” She makes a buzzing sound with her lips and wags her hands in a way that accurately mimics my current caffeine buzz. “What’s your excuse?”
“Just had a lot of stuff on my mind lately.” I could end it there and let her draw her own conclusions, but even when she’s pissed off at me, she’s never been mean. Maybe I can’t tell her everything, but I think I can trust her with a little bit of the truth. “I’m worried about my mom.”
The confession leaves my mouth before I can decide whether I actually wanted to say it out loud.
Remy’s eyes widen. “Oh. Do you maybe want to… talk about that?”
“Can we take a walk?” I point up the stairs toward the silent concession stand. “We could stroll the arena for a bit. I think I need to move.”
“Sure.” She leaves her things and follows me up the steps.
I don’t say anything right away. For one thing, these steps are steep as shit, and I don’t want to tumble to my death. I also need time to think about what I’m going to say.
Eventually, I decide start with the basics. “My mom’s name is Patty. She’s pretty independent, but she’s getting older, and I worry about her. The roof on our house is kind of jacked up, and there was a problem with the wiring, and it kills me that I can’t check in on her.”
Remy hums.
“What?”
She licks her lips and stares down at the toes of her shoes as we pace the hall that circles the arena. I like that she takes her time with her words, too. Most people rush to fill silence. Remy actually listens to it. “I get the impression that your dad isn’t in the picture.”
My jaw twitches so hard I nearly bite my tongue. “Yeah.”
“Do you see yourself as her protector?”
The question lands square in the center of my chest because the answer has always been yes.
I could kiss her for not pressing the issue of my dad. Not that I need much convincing. “Iwasher protector. And I don’t mean that I was the man of the house or whatever bullshit people say to imply that I was in charge of her somehow. She was a great mom.Isa great mom. But she forgets things, she procrastinates, and things fall through the cracks. She’s getting older.”
And distance feels a lot worse once you know what can happen when you aren’t there.
“I know what you mean. You’re an only child, right?”
“Yeah. He died when I was twelve.”
“Me, too.” The quiet understanding in her voice loosens something in me before I can stop it. She runs her hands through her hair. “When my mom died, my dad changed. He’s great, and he’s always been supportive, but…” She lets out a longexhalation. “My dad was trying to do two parents’ worth of work while working through his own grief. Granted, I was old enough that I was pretty independent, but we never got back to normal. Sometimes, I feel awful leaving him back east on his own.”
I let out a little laugh, though there’s nothing funny about any of this.
Remy’s brow furrows. She crosses her arms protectively over her chest. “What?”
“I’m not laughing at you.” I stop in front of a long case that includes giant photos of past Venom players. “Can I say something that’s going to sound selfish as hell?”
“Of course.” Remy’s still frowning, but she’s listening. So few people want to hear what I have to say that her undivided attention makes my skin prickle. I’m not used to this.
“All these guys.” I point to the photos of the legacy Venom players from back when Dante first bought the team. The names are familiar: Newberry. Abbott. Hale. Beck. Sawyer. The fathers of so many of my current teammates. “They’re the OG Vegas Venom. They played so well that Dante obtained their kids, which is kind of insane, by the way. Like who does that?”
