Page 9 of Pucking Fate

“I was going to call you when I got to Elle’s,” my brother says. “I should’ve called or texted when I got to my SUV, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes, you should have!”

“Look, Maya, I’m sorry you were blindsided by the call, but trust me on this. Christian sincerely wants to spend time with Finley,” Preston says.

“Trust you?” I scoff. “Trust you like when you said I should go out with him? ‘Give him a chance, Maya. I think he’s already half in love with you.’ Remember that time I trusted you?” It’s a low blow to throw that in Preston’s face, but I’m pissed at him for leaving and for continuing to make life-changing decisions behind my back. “Like he would rather spend time with a four-year-old instead of the hordes of beautiful women who throw themselves at him…” I feel my face warm with annoyance.

Preston’s side of the phone is silent for a long moment. “You sound a little jealous there.”

“Jealous? Please.” I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “I’m not jealous. I’m realistic. A walking billboard for fornication is going to be my son’s role model. What am I supposed to tell Finley when he asks what a puck bunny is and why his father is drowning in them, Preston?”

“Christian is finally growing up. I wouldn’t dare say that or give your number to him to set up a visit if I wasn’t convinced his heart is in the right place. Or if I thought he would screw up this chance. No matter what you think of the guy, he’s still Finley’s father.”

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and tell my brother, “Trustme, I haven’t forgotten that fact for a single second of my son’s life.”

The older Finley gets, the more he looks like his father instead of me or his Uncle Preston, which is annoying to say the least.

“I just… I don’t know. What if Christian does screw this up? What if he breaks Finley’s heart like he broke mine? I don’t want Finley to go through all that.”

“I don’t either, but I’m not asking you to marry the man. Just give him a chance to spend time with his son. One last chance, for Finley’s sake?”

“If this ends badly, I’m blaming you.”

“Understood,” Preston replies with a chuckle. “Good luck. And how exactly did he break your heart? Why didn’t you ever tell me that you broke things off with him?”

“What?”

“Christian said that you broke his heart.”

I scoff at the ridiculous notion.

“Was he lying? Did Christian break up with you?” Preston asks. “All this time, I thought he ghosted you or cheated on you.”

“Well…okay, so technically I did tell him I didn’t want to see him again, but that was after he acted like a complete jackass!”

“Who’s a jackass?”

I turn around and find my four-year-old blinking up at me with big innocent brown eyes, waiting for me to answer his question.

“Nobody, honey. Someone, um, at the store, was acting like a…like a…”

“Jackass?” he supplies.

“Yes. But I shouldn’t have called him that, should I?”

He shakes his head, looking at me in disapproval for using an insult that would put him in time out and lose his nightly video game privilege.

“Guess who’s on the phone? Here’s Uncle Preston,” I say as I hand over my phone just to change the subject.

My son’s eyes widen and a grin spreads across his face. “UNCLE PRESTON!” he screams into the device so loudly that my brother probably has some hearing loss.

A moment later they’re talking about a hockey video game, much to my relief.

Whew.

I’m going to have to be more careful in the future. I shouldn’t call my son’s father names, especially not when he can hear me.

So, I vow right then and there that I’m going to try to give Christian Riley the benefit of the doubt going forward.

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