“I’m okay—congratulations on winning the game tonight.” I try not to flinch at the rumble of thunder.
“Thanks. I wish I was there with you.” He runs a hand through his wet hair. Based on the background, he’s in his hotel room.
“Me too, but Kody’s sleeping peacefully, and I’m wrapped in you, so I’ll be fine,” I assure him as I move the phone over my torso. When I return to my face, his expression has shifted from worry to hunger.
“Is that my shirt?”
“Mmm. It’s almost like you’re here with me when I can smell you.” I sniff the collar, where his cologne is the strongest.
“I should start bringing something of yours to away games—maybe one of your nightshirts.”
“Pretty sure that would raise a few questions with your roomie.”
“Hmm. Good point.”
“Speaking of, where is your roommate?”
“At the bar. I wanted to call you, maybe see if you need a sensory distraction.” He settles on his bed, bare chest coming into view, a towel wrapped around his waist.
“That might be a bit tough considering we’re in different states.” I climb up onto our bed.
“Or it might be fun?” He cocks a brow.
“Are you suggesting phone sex?”
“Mmm. That sounds naughty, which I like, but we can also call it sensory exploration research.” He tugs at the edge of the towel. “What do you think, Lainey, should we give it a shot? See if it’s an effective calming strategy?”
I smile and pop the first button on the flannel shirt. “I don’t see the harm in trying.”
By the time we’re done, the storm is long over, we’re both relaxed, and I can definitely say it’s an effective calming exercise.
Although Kody and I miss RJ when he’s away, I have Eden and the new friends I’ve made to keep the anxiety at bay. I’ve never been much of one for social media, so I’m pretty safe from all the terrible things people post.
I’ve also been warned by the girls to avoid reading the comments like the plague. Well, Violet said I should avoid it like a herpes-covered dick, but I get what she means. It’s rather disturbing how much people seem to love fabricating horrible stories and dragging up RJ’s less-than-sunshiny past.
We persevere, though, and while I don’t think I’ll ever truly be comfortable in a hockey arena surrounded by thousands of RJ’s adoring fans, I love watching him play and giving Kody experiences I never had when I was young.
Charlene tells me she has these great calming candies she’ll be happy to share with me when we go to games, once I’m finished breastfeeding. For now I just drink copious quantities of chamomile tea and collect RJ’s kisses like they’re a protective and soothing balm for my ridiculous worries.
While there’s lots of change, including Kody learning how to crawl before Christmas, one thing remains the same. I miss my family. They’ve been to visit twice more since the beginning of the season.
Kody and I flew to Seattle for Christmas, in part because RJ had games out west just before the holidays. His family flew up to Seattle to celebrate as well, so I was able to get to know them better. He’s particularly close with his sister, Stevie. The two of them took Kody and Max, his nephew, shopping one afternoon, which was super sweet. She made RJ wear a baseball cap—not Chicago inspired—and told him if he made a scene she’d leave him with both the kids.
I learned a lot about RJ in those few days. He’s an incredible older brother to Stevie, and he takes the role quite seriously. And in a lot of ways he seems to want to fill the absence of his father for her. He and his brother Kyle have a great friendship. They share good-natured ribbing, and I get to hear all about what RJ was like as a teenager, so focused on hockey he didn’t have time for girls—or anything, really.
He’s also definitely a mama’s boy in the most endearing way. It’s clear in the way they accepted me so willingly and graciously into their family that they adore him, and I feel very much like I’ve gained another sister and brother—and a second mother.
He only had three days off before he had to leave for another away-game stretch, so his family went back to LA and I stayed put and enjoyed some time with my parents and siblings.
“I’ve been watching a lot more of this hockey,” my dad says from his spot in the recliner. He has a sleeping Kody cradled in his arms—he’s so big now, already wearing twelve-month clothing when his birthday is still months away. He’s going to be like his dad, I think.
“It’s exciting, isn’t it?” RJ’s team is playing in Colorado tonight, and he’s already scored two goals and an assist. He’s an incredible player, one of the best in the league, and that’s not just bias talking—his stats prove it.
“Did you know there’s going to be a hockey team in Seattle next year?” My dad adjusts Kody. I’m sure his arm is pins and needles, since he’s been holding him like that for an hour. “They have something called an expansion draft.”
I nod. “They take a player from every team in the league. Apparently the same thing happened a while back with Vegas.” RJ hasn’t made much mention of it, but the girls have been talking about it a lot, because they can only keep a certain number of players safe from the draft.
“It’s too bad Rook has a no-trade clause—I’m pretty sure he’d be a top pick for any new team. There’s also some talk that Alex Waters is looking at coaching, and those two are friends, aren’t they?”
I give him a look. “How do you know all this?”
He lifts his shoulder in what’s supposed to be a dismissive shrug. “Your boyfriend and I had some late-night chats while he was here. Besides, you’re my baby, Lainey, and you’re living with a big-shot hockey player, so sue me if I want to be in the know about everything.”
“So you’ve become an internet stalker—is that it?”
“I think you call it research.”
I laugh, and Kody stretches in his arms, smacking his lips. I check the time. I should probably put him to bed for the night, but I don’t want to take him from my dad just yet.
“We miss you, Lainey, that’s all. I know you’ve made friends out in Chicago, and that’s wonderful. We don’t want to stifle you, but any opportunity I see to have you closer rather than farther away and I’m going to make mention of it. Your mother is a worrier—and I’m sure that wasn’t always the most helpful when you were growing up, especially after what happened in college. If you’d been in that classroom when that boy lost his sanity . . .” My dad clears his throat and smooths out Kody’s hair, his voice just a whisper. “We might not have you—or this little miracle.”
I push up out of the chair and hug him as best I can, considering he’s stretched out in a recliner—which RJ bought for him since he loved the one at his place in Chicago so much—and holding a nearly twenty-pound baby in his arms.
“We just love you so much, Lainey, and maybe we loved you a little too hard, but we were just so scared of losing you.” He sniffs into my shoulder.
I hug him like that, awkwardly, absorbing his love and his honesty, because in all the years since that tragedy happened, it’s really the first time he’s expressed how he felt about it. “I love you too, Dad. I know you were just trying to keep me safe, but I can’t live my life being afraid of things that are outside of my control.”