Page 96 of From Ice to Home
That doesn’t mean I wish I didn’t have to deal with this. But at some point I’ll have, unless I plan on carrying this weight into every single game I’ll ever play.
“You’re too smart for your own good,” I say, placing a kiss in her golden hair.
“You love me anyway,” she says, her voice lighter now, looking up at me with a soft, tender smile.
“God knows I do.” Leaning down, I press a soft kiss against her lips. Filled with quiet love and gratitude.
She steps toward the counter, picking up my phone.
“Call him? Or maybe Noah? If it’s a no, then at least you know you still left the door open.” Her fingers softly brushes against mine as she hands me my phone. “I’m going to check on the laundry then I’m making you something to eat. What time do you have to be at the rink?”
My heart swells with love. God knew I needed this woman in my life. I knew Iwantedher back, but it wasn’t until she stepped back into my life that I knew how much Ineededher.
“After two,” I say. “And then I won’t be back until late.”
She places a gentle kiss on my cheek. “Call.”
With that she heads back into the laundry room, leaving me to decide on what to do about my dad. Heading into the living room, I take a seat on the couch, facing the newly decorated wall. My gaze lands on the photo of me, scoring my first ever goal.
He should’ve been there.
If I don’t try to fix this, how many more important milestones will he miss?
Taking a deep breath I pull up my brother’s number, video calling him. After a few moments, he picks up, his face erupting in a smile.
“Well, if it isn’t the Ranger who made a comeback two games into the playoffs. Was it all for dramatic flair, bro, or did you really suck that bad the first game?”
Noah’s playful tone lifts my spirits.
“You’ll never know,” I say with a small chuckle. “How are things going over there? Not working too hard right?”
He shrugs. “There’s always work to do. Never got me down before.”
I hesitate for a second before diving straight in. No risk, no reward.
“Listen,” I start, scratching my beard that needs a bit of a trim. “I want to send you and dad a few tickets for the final game. Hannah’s family will probably also come up. It’ll be great to have everyone here.”
Noah’s smile falters a bit. “You know how things are, Luke. I’m not the one calling the shots.”
I sigh. Knowing how things work back home. You live under my dad’s roof, you follow his rules. “Just give the phone to him, Noh.”
“You sure?” he asks, getting up and walking. “You want to do this now?”
Do I?I’m already here, I’ve already decided to dosomething. If I can’t insist on us putting aside our past to be together for something like the Stanley Cup Final, then what are we even doing?
“Yes,” I say, determined. “I want my family with me.”
Noah hands the phone over, and it doesn’t take long for my dad’s face to appear on the screen. He’s already frowning like the call itself is some kind of inconvenience. The lines on his forehead are more prominent than the last time I saw him, and a small flash of guilt moves through me.
“Lucas, my boy,” he says, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s tilting the phone awkwardly.
“Can’t we talk like normal people?” he mutters, the camera pointing at the ceiling, then the floor, then somewhere near his shoulder. “Why is my head so big on this thing?”
Before I can respond, he shoves the phone back toward Noah, who chuckles at our dad. “Turn it off. I can’t talk like that.”
Some people just don’t get video calls, and Cal Walker is the worst of them.
“Whichever way you want it, Dad,” I say, shifting forward. “We’re still having this conversation.”
