Page 68 of Lost on Ice
That makes her laugh outright, but before I can fully appreciate the sound, my phone starts going off. Frowning, I reach for it on the nightstand and let out a frustrated groan when I see messages coming in from my mom.
Shit. I was hoping to avoid this for a little while longer, but it was really just a matter of time before she figured out I was back.
I open the texts and look through them and am not at all surprised by their angry tone.
Mom: Why didn’t you tell me you were back in town?
Mom: Do you know how embarrassing it was to hear about it from someone else? It’s all anyone seems to talk about!
Mom: You don’t even come visit? You’re supposed to be helping your siblings!
Mom: You think you’re so high and mighty because you’re a rich hockey player and don’t need to think of your family anymore? Is that it?
Mom: I can’t believe how selfish you are.
“Damn it,” I mutter. Glancing at Abbie, I see that she’s reading the messages as well. She’s frowning, her eyes narrowed. She looks surprised, which I suppose makes sense given that I’ve always kept just how shitty my mom and Kevin treat me pretty close to the chest.
“Wow, she’s angry, huh?” She wraps her arms around me. “Tell you what. Why don’t you say to her that we’ll come over?”
I blink at her. She’s willing to do that even after seeing these texts?
“Are you sure?”
She smiles and shrugs, which makes the blankets around her shift and I’m momentarily distracted by the sight of her breasts squished against my chest. “Yeah, why not? Dad wanted to keep Lilah today anyway, so we’ve got the time.”
I hesitate a moment, torn. Part of me wants to spare her the drama, but I really don’t want to go see them alone. Still, I shake my head.
“You really don’t have to. My home life really isn’t pleasant. You won’t have a good time, trust me.”
“I want to,” she insists. “Besides, it’s the least I can do given everything you’re doing for me.”
There’s a part of me that wants to continue to keep her in the dark. Not to expose her to what my family really is like, the way I have been for so long with all my friends. But there’s another part of me, a much stronger part, that craves her support, no matter how selfish that may be. In the end, that side wins out. “All right. We’ll go see them. I’ve got to warn you, though. The years have not made my mom and stepdad any kinder.”
“Don’t worry, I can hold my own,” she assures me. “Catch me up on your family so I’m better prepared for this.”
I brush my fingers along her cheek, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
“James is the oldest, twenty-four, and works in finance in Boston. Riley is twenty-one and plays football for Boston University. Kimmy and Wren are the first set of twins and eighteen and are in their freshmen year at Emerson. The other twins, Ben and David, are fifteen, then there’s Valerie who’s thirteen, and Georgie is the youngest at ten.”
I feel a stab of pain in my chest as I talk about my siblings. I used to help take care of them all, and we were actually pretty close until I left for college and then continued straight into the NHL. The older kids felt like I abandoned them and kind of turned on me — no doubt with some help from Kevin — but Valerie and Georgie still like me.
It’s just been hard trying to figure out how to explain to the others how difficult it was for me growing up as the odd man out in our family. I’m not sure I could really make them understand.
Abbie lets out a long whistle. “Holy shit, when you list them all out like that…just thinking about having all those kids make my hoo-haa hurt.”
Laughing, I catch her lips in a kiss, but in the back of my head, I can’t help but think that this is a bad idea.
The house looks the same as it always does. It’s a two-story white Colonial with a gabled roof, blue shutters, and a red door framed by decorative pilasters. The yard is neatly trimmed with flowering shrubs along the base of the house. A brick walkway leads to the front door, with its elegant brass knocker. I don’t feel the sense of connection or hominess I probably should feel for this place—coming back, I always just have this sense of being disconnected from it all. Like I’m not really wanted here.
Abbie and I pause as we approach the door. I suck in a deep breath, fortifying myself for what’s to come.
“Break a leg.” Abbie smiles, punching me in the shoulder.
I smile back. “I mean, you say that enough and it’ll actually happen. Hockey playersdobreak their legs all the time.”
“I’m a nurse. I’ll take care of you.” She lifts my hand, and pushes my finger closer to the doorbell. “Let’s do it.
“Okay.” I eye her up and down — she’s gorgeous, dressed in a blue sundress with a belted waist and square neckline — and ring the doorbell.
