“So. You’ve got a girlfriend.” He chuckles. “You neglected to mention that the last time we spoke.”
“I was still wrapping my head around it.”
“I like her.”
“Me too.” I nod toward Alex’s closed door. “Is that gonna be a thing?”
“Yes, bro. I’m going to marry a supermodel. Come on now.”
“Aren’t you a famous professional athlete? Don’t supermodels go hand in hand with that?”
“That girl is wildfire. She’ll get bored of me in a week, tops. She’s leaving for Paris tonight on a private jet.”
“Yeah, and you’re leaving on your jet back to LA.”
“Oh fuck off. I’m flying commercial.”
“First class?”
He hangs his head in shame. “Business.”
I snicker. “How was Christmas with your parents?”
“All right. How about you? You spent it with the Grahams, huh?”
I sigh. “Remember when Garrett Graham hated me for being late to practice? Well, now he’s got an even bigger reason. Dude can’t stand me.”
“I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”
“Trust me, I’m not.”
I notice him eyeing me over the rim of his mug.
“What?”
“You look happy,” Owen says. “Can’t believe I’m fucking saying that. But you do.”
“Hell’s frozen over, right?”
“I mean…yeah.”
Grinning, I set my mug on the glass table. “So what’s your upcoming game schedule like?”
“We’ve got a stretch of away games.” He runs a hand through his messy brown hair. “It’s a grueling schedule. Being on the road is exhausting.”
“You love it.”
“I do.” He pauses. “You’re going to love it too.”
“Yeah, if Dallas doesn’t change their mind about me.”
“They won’t.” He takes another sip. “We’ve got a couple games against the Bruins next month. You should come to one. Watch the game in the box and grab dinner with me and the team after.”
“Sounds good.”
“Bring your girlfriend.” He winks.
“You really like saying that word.”
“Yeah, ’cause it’s you and you don’t do girlfriends. I’m gonna keep saying it forever just ’cause I know it makes you uncomfortable.”
Speaking of uncomfortable, I suddenly remember what Gigi said last night. About how I can’t take ownership of other people’s actions.
I hesitate for a long time, watching Owen sip his coffee and scroll on his phone. I would normally never discuss this. Never dream of bringing it up. But maybe my “normal” doesn’t cut it anymore. Maybe it’s time to change the way I handle shit.
“Do you blame me?”
He lifts his head, confused. “For what?”
“For Mom.” I stare at my hands for several seconds, then force myself to meet his gaze. “Do you see him when you look at me?”
He recoils. “Fuck no.”
I can’t even describe the relief that shudders through me.
“You didn’t hurt her,” Owen says quietly.
“I didn’t save her either.”
“You were six. Trust me, if I’d been there, I wouldn’t have done much either.” Regret digs a crease into his forehead. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I couldn’t do anything for you after it happened. I begged my dad to let you come live with us, but he wouldn’t hear it.”
“I know. It’s not your fault. I know what he’s like.”
“Yeah, but I still felt bad. I’ll always feel bad about it, that I had a family while you got shuffled around to different foster homes. My dad’s an asshole, but it’s nothing compared to the hand you got dealt.”
“It wasn’t all bad,” I assure him. “I got to play hockey, didn’t I?”
“True.”
A brief regretful silence passes between us.
“I can’t believe he’s up for parole,” I say flatly.
“Me neither.” Owen’s tone is grim.
We texted about it a while ago after I finally returned Peter Greene’s call. Like me, Owen was asked to—and has no desire to—speak at the hearing.
“And no, Ryder. Just to answer that question again. When I look at you, I don’t see him—I see you. You’re my little brother. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
We sit there in silence for a while, drinking the rest of our coffee as the sun begins to rise above the Manhattan skyline.
“You should be prepared,” Owen eventually says, glancing over to grin at me.
“For what?”
“You’re gonna marry that girl.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
GIGI
We were best friends
AT THE END OF JANUARY, I HAVE DINNER WITH MY PARENTS AFTER the team plays Boston University. Normally, we’re all expected to be on the team bus after a game, but I got special permission from Adley to stay behind. I swear, any request that has to do with my father, Adley will grant without blinking. He simply waved his hand and said, “See you tomorrow.” Tomorrow is a home game against Providence, and I’m looking forward to it. We haven’t faced Bethany Clarke and those girls since our exhibition in the fall. It’s bound to be competitive.
Wyatt is back in Nashville, so the house is a little quieter. My parents and I order Chinese takeout and eat at the kitchen counter while I track a social media thread that’s providing live updates of the men’s game against UConn.
“Ugh,” I say, squinting at my phone in irritation, “Why can’t this one be televised?” It’s actually super important for the standings, since UConn is only leading their conference by one game. Briar still has an excellent chance to edge them out.
“UConn’s so solid this year,” Dad remarks. “Connelly has them as the lock to win the Frozen Four. Don’t tell Jensen.”
“You think Briar doesn’t have a shot?”
“No, they have a real good shot,” he relents. “I’m impressed by how they managed to turn the season around.”
“It’s shocking that Ryder and Case are still playing so well together despite the complete silent treatment from Case.”
Dad raises a brow.
“Case hasn’t spoken to him in more than a month,” I admit. “Not since Ryder and I went public with our relationship. Case isn’t happy. He spent most of last year trying to win me back, but now he finally realizes it’s not going to happen.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Dad asks carefully.
“What do you mean?”
“This choice that you made.”
I sigh. “Look, I know you like Case. And he’s a good guy, but it was never going to happen, even if Ryder wasn’t in the picture. We were never getting back together.”
Dad’s mouth dips in a slight frown. “I still don’t get why it ended in the first place, Stan. It never made any sense—”
“Because he cheated on me.”