“Not really,” I answer.
“Lawes is fuming,” Taters says, pulling up a chair to close off our circle. “He’s in the training room, huffing and puffing, making a show of it.”
I scratch the side of my jaw and then pick up my tape again. “He doesn’t need to be. I’m taking care of it.”
“Really?” Taters asks. “So you’re going to marry her?”
“What?” I nearly squeak. “No, we’re just going to be friends, but I moved in to help her with whatever she needs.”
“Friends?” Taters shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t see that happening. You’ve been crushing on her forever, man. There’s no way you’ll stay friends.”
“I don’t want anything serious, and neither does she, so friends is the only option. And I’d rather be friends with my baby’s mom than not even talk to her.” I let out a huge sigh. “Okay, I’m done discussing this. I need to get my head on straight for the game tonight, and sitting here gabbing about my personal life is not going to do that.”
“Yes, but your personal life just got very interesting,” Taters says, the ever-present instigator.
“If you’re that interested, go get someone pregnant yourself.”
“Nah, I’m good. I just settled down from the crazy personal life. I don’t need to rock the boat now.”
Taters, or Silas Taters, also known as Potato, broke up with his girlfriend a little while back. They were together for a very long time, so long that Silas was considering proposing, and then, when we all least expected it, they broke up. We still don’t know the reason. Taters never said why, but he took it really fucking hard, and it seems like he’s finally out of the dark cloud of his breakup and now torturing me.
“Well, if you need anything, we’re here for you,” Holmes says before patting me on the back and going to his locker.
I know for a fact I’m not the only guy in the league who accidentally got a girl pregnant, but what I want to know is how they handle it because right now, as much as I try to focus on the game, my head keeps swinging back to Penny and what I’m going to do. If I’m going to be good enough.
If I’m going to follow through.
My dad never did.
I lost my mom at twelve.
My foster family, well, they were counting down the days until I turned eighteen. They didn’t hate me, but I knew they didn’t love me either.
So how the hell am I supposed to handle all of this when I’m not even sure how to be a parent? How to act like one this baby deserves?
Looks like I need to call my therapist. We have a lot to unpack, especially with playoffs around the corner. I need to focus if we’re going to have a run for the cup this year.
This is weird.
Coming home after a game to a new building, a new hallway, and a new front door. None of it belongs to me, and none of it is familiar. None of it feels like home.
And home is important to me. It’s my safe space, my grounding zone, a place I know will never disappear on me. But that has all changed now.
I slip out the key Penny gave me, and I unlock the door only to quietly open it. I’m not sure about Penny’s schedule. Couldn’t tell you if she was an early-to-bed kind of girl or a night owl. I don’t want to be too loud just in case she’s sleeping, but it also takes me a few hours to wind down from the adrenaline of a game, especially after a brutal loss like we suffered today.
Four to one.
It was embarrassing.
You don’t have to be in the know to realize something was going on between Pacey and me or that neither of our heads was in the game. Letting four goals go by is very unlike him. But it wasn’t all his fault. I couldn’t get my head out of the clouds fast enough to catch up to the offense and do my job, so it was almost as if Pacey was down a defenseman. You could only imagine how mad he is now.
It wasn’t pretty in the locker room after the game, to say the least.
When I step inside the apartment, I’m surprised to see the lights on and my game day suits scattered all over the living room and kitchen. Every single suit I own.
I glance around the space and find Penny standing in the middle of the living room holding a steamer in one hand and the vest of my maroon three-piece suit in the other.
“Oh, I didn’t think you’d be home so soon,” she says, eyes wide. “I thought that maybe you’d take a bit longer.”
“I skipped the weight room today and settled with just flushing my legs out on the bike.” I set my bag down in the entryway. “What, uh, what are you doing?”