Page 55 of Hot Shot
The mention of Corbin and Landon has me wishing I’d sent a text instead of calling. It’s hard to act normal with the secret Bran shared weighing on my mind. “How are those two? Still talking trash about my team?”
“I haven’t spoken to either of them since our video call the other week.” She’s silent for a moment before she asks, “Is everything all right?”
“Yes. It’s fine. Bran’s a little tense. Worried about how you and Dad will react when we get there.” I hope the small nugget of information will keep her happy. She can dig in deep once we arrive at the house.
“The only thing he needs to worry about is whether your father will break any of his ribs when he crushes him in a hug.”
“Dad’s okay with him coming?”
“What kind of question is that? Branton is like a son to us. Of course we’re happy, and I’ve had to hide the car keys for the last week so your dad didn’t slip away and drive to where you were. He wants Branton back where he belongs.”
I love my parents. And their unconditional love of their children, of Bran, is only one of the reasons. “I love you. Tell Dad I love him too and we’ll see you both in about an hour.”
“Will do. Drive safe. And tell Branton we love him as much as we love you.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
After I hang up, I don’t waste time taking care of business. I’m eager to get back on the road so I can get one of those crushing hugs from my dad Mom spoke about.
As I leave the bathroom, I run into Bran. Literally. Bounce right off his hard body and hit the wall behind me.
“Shit. Sorry.” His hands wrap around my upper arms and steady me. “I didn’t expect you to come out of there like a pilot in an ejection seat.”
“My fault. I talked to Mom before I used the bathroom and now I can’t wait to get home. I need a hug from Dad.”
“Everyone needs a hug from Andrew Watts at least once in their life.” A sad smile lifts his mouth on one side. “I wish Laura had gotten the chance to do that.”
Branton
I remember being so nervous I thought I’d pee my pants the first time I drove through the gates of the Watts home. If I hadn’t emptied my bladder an hour ago I’m sure I’d feel the urge to go now too.
Mom was at the wheel all those years ago. I was 6 years old, had just lost my father, and she was driving us to what she called our ‘fresh start’.
I didn’t understand it back then. It wasn’t until I was older, a teenager, that I understood what she meant. I get it now even more.
We never talked about it but she had to have been so excited—so scared. To uproot us from the only home I’d ever known and move us clear across the country after such a terrible loss.
The job of live-in housekeeper and occasional babysitter the Watts family had offered her must have seemed like a miracle to a woman who hadn’t worked outside the home in years.
They’d given us a safe place to stay, given us a family to love—be loved by—and introduced me to the first love of my life.
Hockey.
It had taken another eight years for me to find my second love and for years I lived with the knowledge I’d never have her.
I was nineteen when Blake finally noticed me the way I noticed her. Six years my senior, I figured the attraction on her side would be fleeting, would fizzle out.
Except Mom died and I’d floundered in my grief until I was at the point of flunking out of class and losing my spot on my college hockey team.
Blake had turned up on my doorstep and stuck with me, pushing and pulling, and dragging me back to the man-boy I’d been before Mom’s death. Those months formed a bond that even Celeste couldn’t break.
It’s damaged but still there. Still tethering us together the way we’d been before I let myself be hoodwinked by a lying bitch.
And I hate that I have to bring Celeste here, even if it is only in memory. I don’t want her tainting this place. The sanctuary of my youth, the birthplace of my future.
“It’s going to be okay.”
I glance over at Blake. “You sound so sure.”
