Page 8 of Lost on Ice
“I hope he’s doing well,” I try to make my shrug nonchalant.
“I couldn’t tell you.” Sophie shakes her head. “He stays in Boston mostly. If Carter does see him, he goes to the city.”
That makes sense. Jake’s never had a good relationship with his family, avoiding our hometown as much as he could. Though I’m not sure why. That information falls firmly under girlfriend territory, which is a position I was never in. “Like I said, I don’t ever want anyone to be with me out of obligation, which is why I haven’t said anything.”
“I know…” she chews on her lip as she thinks, “he won’t be in Connecticut, by the way. We haven’t invited him.”
While I hadn’t thought about it, hearing the words confirmed makes me feel a little better. “Okay. I’ll talk to Dad and Viv tonight. It might be too much for them to have both kids.”
“But look how well they’re playing together,” Sophie says dreamily, watching her son make his stuffed animal talk to Lilah.“Sometimes it’s easier when there are two. They play with each other instead of asking you to entertain them constantly.” She laughs.
“They really are… oh my god. Did I tell you that they set up a princess room for her? Right next to Chase’s.”
Sophie barks a laugh, shaking her head. “See? And you were worried about taking advantage of them. They’re practicallybeggingyou to have her. Put the poor grandparents out of their misery.”
I mean… yeah, they do seem really eager to have her. Deciding to broach the subject with them when I get back to the house later, Sophie and I spend the next few hours talking and laughing like we used to, and I feel lighter than I have in a long time.
Chapter Four
JAKE
Leftover Chinese food.
Again.
The kitchen goes when I close the fridge, illuminated only by the lamplight coming from the other room. The sound of the TV playing footage from my game last night fills the space, but I try to tune it out as I scrap the leftovers onto a plate.
If Coach saw the carb content of everything I’ve been eating recently, he’d make me run drills all practice. Sighing, I take my plate of food to the couch and prop my feet up on the coffee table, the one thing in my apartment that isn’t made of chrome, glass or some fancy shit like that — I don’t even know the materials because I didn’t pick anything. The entirety of my luxury one-bedroom apartment was decorated by whatever interior designer was hot shit at the time, a fact I’ve come to resent. At the time, I didn’t care what my apartment looked like; I just wanted it to lookgood. Like it was owned by a hotshot hockey star.
Now, though? It’s like I’m living in someone else’s home, the accents and furniture all “modern luxury.”
Except for my coffee table. That’s the only thing here that feelsme.It’s a leftover from my college days, and it is the one piece of furniture I haven’t had the heart to let go of yet. The thing is a beast. It’s carried enough pizza to feed an army, and I know for a fact it can hold my weightandAbbie’s?—
I hear the cheering crowds on the TV. I cut my thoughts off with a shake of my head.Hockey. My game last night. Focus.
That lasts for all of ten seconds before my phone rings. It’s Carter.
“Hey, dickhead,” I answer, propping the phone between my ear and shoulder, shoving a forkful of chow mein into my mouth. “What’s up?”
“Hey, asshole,” Carter chuckles. There’s an echo-y sound in the background like he’s at the rec center rink. “Just checking in. What are you up to?”
Arching a brow, I finish chewing and swallow. “That’s… nice of you. I’m just going through some gameplay footage from last night.”
“Ah, yeah, great game. Jordan, Tom, and I watched. I miss you, man. It’s not the same, seeing you on the TV.”
“You’re feeling a little sappy,” I note suspiciously. “Is it possible that Soph’s pregnancy hormones are leaking intoyou?”
Carter snorts. “No. I just… I don’t know. We’re down in Connecticut for a few playoff games Jordan has… watching him practice with his buddies just made me think of when we were in school on the team, and then on the Reapers together…”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “Yeah, we had some pretty good times.”
“Hey, would you want to come down? When’s your next rest day?”
“Tomorrow and Sunday. Why?”
“Maybe you should come down here tomorrow. Jordan and his friends would lose their minds.”
That’s not a bad idea. I could use a break from the loneliness of my apartment. When was the last time I left the city when it wasn’t for an away game? But it is pretty last minute…
