I thought finishing the bucket list would’ve made her happy.
But instead she’d just looked worn down and exhausted. Like someone had let all the air out of her balloon.
I’d been tempted to push—to say the words again, properly this time when it was just her and me, like it always should’ve been the first time I confessed how I felt. But something in her eyes had stopped me. She’d seemed fragilein a way I’d never seen from her before, and I’d told myself it could wait. That we’d talk in the morning when she was rested.
But now morning was here, and she was still out cold, and I had another problem I needed to deal with.
Drew.
I checked my phone. There were two texts from Foster asking if Drew and I were going to be able to play tonight, and one from Coach Maxwell saying if Drew and I could come to him together and prove we could work together, he’d let us play the game.
There was nothing from Drew.
The silence was almost worse than the fury.
I looked at Ava again, memorizing the curve of her cheek, the way her hair spread across the pillow. Part of me wanted to wake her up—to have the conversation we should’ve had last night. To tell her I loved her when I wasn’t soaking wet and emotionally wrecked from getting my ass kicked by her brother.
But she needed sleep. And I needed to fix things with Drew before tonight’s game.
I’d tell her after. Once I’d talked to Drew and everything was out in the open.
I pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than I probably should have. “I’ll be back, Sunshine,” I murmured.
She didn’t even stir.
The hockey house was quiet when I got home, which was strange for midmorning. Usually someone was blastingmusic or arguing about something stupid. Or, most likely these days, Rory was squealing or crying.
Today there was nothing.
I found Drew in the living room, sitting on the floor with Rory propped up against his legs. She was gnawing on a teething toy, her big eyes tracking a stuffed elephant Drew was waving in front of her face. The scene was so normal that for a second I forgot why I was dreading this conversation.
Then Drew looked up, and his expression went cold.
“Hey,” I said carefully.
“Hey.” His voice was flat, but there was an edge to it that gave me the impression he was holding back the anger that was still simmering under the surface.
Harper appeared from the kitchen, a cup of Cheerios in her hand. Her gaze bounced between us, reading the tension instantly.
“I’m going to take Rory over to my place for a bit,” she said, already moving toward Drew. “Give you guys some time to talk.”
Drew’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, pressing a kiss to Rory’s head before Harper scooped her up. The baby babbled happily, completely oblivious to the shitstorm brewing between her father and his best friend.
“Text me when you’re done,” Harper said to Drew, shooting me a look I couldn’t quite read. Then she grabbed Rory’s diaper bag that we kept stocked and walked out, the front door clicking shut behind her.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
I shoved my hands in my pockets, trying to figure out where to start. Drew and I had been in fights before, but never like this. “You know, I almost wonder if Roryshould’ve stayed. Less likely you’ll beat the shit out of me with the baby here.”
Drew didn’t laugh. He didn’t even crack a smile.
Okay, so that’s how it was going to be.
“I’m not going to hit you again,” he said, his voice still eerily calm. “I got it out of my system last night.”
“Well, better to be sure. My jaw still hurts like hell.”
“Good.”
