Page 62 of Fake Shot

“So,” I say as we walk up the path to the wide steps leading to the porch. “What are you guys doing here? I didn’t expect to see you until the party tonight.”

Mom looks away as we climb the steps, and Dad says, “We thought maybe it was best if the first time you and Gabriel saw each other again was...more private.”

“See, now I completely disagree,” I say, setting the suitcase down with Jules’s bag on top of it once we reach the porch. “I came here to see you guys. I have nothing to say to him, and the party would have been the perfect place for us to avoid each other.”

“You can’t avoid me forever,” Gabriel says, frustration ringing out in his tone.

“Want to bet?” I push the front door to the inn open, ushering Jules through. I’m about to shut the door behind me when Dad’s hand shoots out and holds it open and I hear my family shuffle in behind us.

“Hey, Patrice,” Dad says to the woman standing behind the counter. Her auburn hair has a few streaks of gray in it, and she looks familiar. But she’s too young to have been friends with my parents when I was growing up, and too old to have been in school with me. I can’t place her, and I wonder how many times that’s going to happen tonight.

“Thanks for setting aside the sitting room for us,” Mom says. “We’ll head back there while you get Mathieu and Jules checked in.”

“Sure thing. It’s all yours until teatime at four,” the woman says, before turning her attention back to us. “My,my,” she says, looking at me. “Haven’t you grown up?” Then she turns to Jules. “This little devil child was in my third-grade class my first year of teaching. He gave mesucha run for my money.”

“Oh my god,” I say with a laugh. “Ms. Wilder?”

“I’ve been Mrs. Benson for quite some time,” she says. “When Roger’s parents decided to retire about ten years ago, we took over the inn so it would stay in the family. I’d had enough of dealing with eight-year-olds by then.”

“I’m surprised you made it that long after having to deal with this one,” Jules says with a smile as she pokes me in the side. “I’ve known him since he was a teenager and he’s barely matured since then.”

Mrs. Benson lets out a laugh, the kind that comes from deep in your gut, and then says to me, “I’m glad you found someone to keep you in line.”

“Oh, she does more than just keep me in line,” I say, unable to resist.

Jules rolls her eyes, and I do my best to ignore the way that makes my dick twitch, as always. “See what I mean,” she tells my former teacher. “He’s pretty much still a child.”

“But the most successful one to have ever left Pinevale.” Pride is evident in her voice. “It’s been a lot of fun watching you play over the years.”

“Oh? Are you a Rebels fan now?” I tease. We’redeepin Montreal territory, and if there’s one thing people around here take seriously, it’s their loyalty to their local team.

“As if,” she says with a laugh, then turns and grabs a key with a pale green retro tag off a hook behind her. “You’re in luck with the room. I know you were concerned about thesize of the bed, and we had a cancellation for this weekend. The couple that was supposed to take the honeymoon suite had to change their plans, so that room is all yours. It’s going to be the last door at the end of the hallway.” She points to the wooden stairs next to the registration desk. Then she turns back, winks at Jules, and adds, “Biggest bed in the Pinevale Inn.”

I’m already afraid of what we’re going to find when we get up there. “I’m sure the original room will be just fine,” I say, because at least we know that one had both a bed and a couch.

“Nonsense,” she insists. “Besides, we already rented out that room to your cousin, Lane. He and his wife were on the waitlist, and now they won’t have to stay with your aunt and uncle.” She purses her lips, and we both understand exactly why this is better for Lane and his wife—my aunt is a raging bitch, or at least she was when I was younger. It doesn’t even surprise me one bit that Lane went to Ottawa for university and has lived there ever since. “They checked in about an hour ago and were so grateful for the room.”

Jules looks at me and, with laughter in her voice, says, “Guess we get the honeymoon suite a bit early.” Holding out her palm to get the key from Mrs. Benson, her eyes meet mine again. “Why don’t I go get our stuff settled in the room so you can have a few minutes to catch up with your family?”

It’s the perfect solution, really, as it allows me to explain the situation to her privately, later, instead of her hearing the drama unfold when I sit down with my brother for the first time since he got my girlfriend pregnant.

“Oh no, honey,” Mrs. Benson says, gently pushing Jules’shand away. “I promised the Coltiers that I’d take your stuff up so you all can catch up before tonight’s party. You guys go ahead.”

She steps around the desk and grabs the handle of the suitcase from me.Well, fuck.

Chapter Twenty-Four

JULES

“Let’s just start by clearing the air,” Gabriel says the minute we sit on the couch across from him and his parents, and Colt’s grip tightens around my fingers to the point that it’s nearly painful. I have the feeling that this is the only thing preventing him from losing his shit, even though I don’t know why, so I just squeeze back, hoping he knows I’ll back him up however he needs me to. “I apologize. What Cheri and I did was wrong...”

In the pregnant pause that follows, Colt grits out, “There better not be abutfollowing that statement.”

“There is, and you know why,” Gabriel says. “You two hadn’t been happy since before you got drafted.”

I’m trying to put the pieces of this puzzle together, and my best guess is something happened between Gabriel and the girl Colt was dating before he went pro.

“She was planning to move to Boston to be with me onceher freshman year was over. You were supposed to keep an eye out for her at college, not sleep with her.”

---