The Season: Rush (Austin Arrows #1) (34 page)

Kingston

When I walked into the Penalty Box and saw Ellie with Spencer and Noelle, I knew instantly what they were discussing. It definitely wasn’t a conversation about me and Ellie, because I seriously doubt she would share those details with her brother.

However, she would seek them out to talk about James and Bianca.

I had originally come in with the hopes of apologizing to her for leaving this morning. I didn’t have a good reason, other than it had been a moment of panic. After lying awake for most of the night, holding her in my arms, I’d worked myself up good. I know my fear is all in my head, and I’m already playing out scenarios that could possibly never happen, but I can’t seem to stop. The idea of James coming into her life…

Even
thinking
the man’s name makes my stomach hurt.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

I glance over to see Ellie standing at my side. I turn to my left to see Spencer sitting at the bar. He came and took that spot not long after I walked in, but the guy hasn’t said a single word.

I turn back to Ellie. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Can we go to my office?” she asks.

“Why don’t we go outside?” I suggest. I really don’t want to be in her office. I’m not sure I can be alone with her and not… Yeah. Can’t do it.

“Okay.”

I follow Ellie outside and then around to the side of the building. The wind is brutal today, and I see that Ellie’s only wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt. This was a stupid idea. She’s going to freeze her ass off.

“I don’t know what’s going on here,” she says, gesturing between us, “but I hope you’re not mad at me because of this James thing.”

James thing
? Is that what she’s calling it? The father of her child, a man she has hoped she’d one day find so Bianca could know him, coming back into her life is a “thing”?

It pisses me off that she can be so blasé about it. It’s tearing me up inside, and she sees it as a goddamn “thing.”

Ellie doesn’t see my disappointment. She just keeps talking. “I don’t know why Bianca didn’t tell me that she was looking for him, and I still have to address that, but if this man really is her father…”

“He needs to be a part of her life,” I say for her. “I’m not an asshole, Ellie. If he is her father, that’s a good thing.”

For Bianca. For Ellie.

Certainly not for me.

“It is.” The way she says it doesn’t hold nearly the conviction I thought it would.

It’s my turn to speak, so I lay it all out there. “And I decided last night, I’m going to give you some space to deal with this.”

Ellie frowns. “Space?”

“Yeah. You’ve got a lot going on and … well, I do, too. I need to focus on my game.”

I continue to watch Ellie, and I swear I see tears form in her eyes, but no sooner do I see them than they’re gone.

“Okay then.” She doesn’t argue.

“I’m still here,” I tell her. “If you need anything at all.”

She looks up at me, holding my stare for the longest time before she finally speaks. “I really didn’t mean to make this weird between us, Kingston.”

I swallow hard, not able to speak.

“I know we were both worried about our friendship … and I guess bringing sex into it made it awkward. No matter what, I don’t want to lose that.”

I nod. Ellie did tell me in the beginning that this was only temporary. I guess I didn’t realize the expiration date would come quite so quickly.

“Like I said, I’m here. Whatever you need.” And I mean that with my whole heart, although I don’t tell her as much.

43

Kingston

Thursday, December 15
th

I don’t think I’ve looked forward to an away game as much as I have this week.

However, I’m not in the zone where I should be.

As I pace back and forth, waiting to go out on the ice, I feel my anxiety. The way I left things with Ellie doesn’t sit right with me. For whatever reason, I felt the need to put some space between us. It’s a self-preservation thing, I think. I’m almost certain that I’ve fallen in love with this woman, and with Bianca’s dad making an appearance in her life, I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know how things will play out. I should probably try to dig deeper, but I could tell Ellie was panicked from the phone call alone. I don’t want to cause her any more undue stress. This is going to be hard enough for her without me becoming an insecure asshole on top of it.

“Rush!”

I look up to see the team walking toward the rink, and I force myself to ignore my thoughts. This is the shit I should’ve left in the locker room. My focus should be on the game, on my place between the pipes. When my skates hit the ice, I wait for the calm to take over, but it’s absent. I’m fidgety and antsy. As I make my way to the net, I try to focus on my gear, needing to ensure it’s not too loose. I briefly glance at my stick, not even remembering that I taped it.

This isn’t good.

Tonight’s game was the icing on a shitty week all the way around. We lost both games, due in no small part to my lack of concentration. We have another game on Monday, but I’m sure Coach will put Locke in if I don’t get my head out of my ass.

Maybe that’s for the best. I’m sure he could do a better job than I can right now, anyway. It doesn’t matter how I try to psych myself up, it’s not working. I’m not big on feeling sorry for myself, yet that’s exactly how I feel.

Like a pathetic ass.

I’ve managed to keep my distance from Ellie. We shared a couple of texts since I saw her on Saturday, but nothing more than that. I haven’t been in the mood to talk to anyone. I’m sure it’s evident in the way I carry myself, in the smartass comments I’ve been making to anyone and everyone around me. I’m pissed and I don’t know why.

Okay, that’s a lie on both fronts. One, I do know what the problem is, and two, I’m not pissed. I’m actually confused as fuck.

Here I was, moving along with Ellie, and out of the blue, this man comes into the picture. She doesn’t know him from Adam, but at one time he was all up inside her—a visual image that makes me want to put my fist through the wall—getting her pregnant and all but ensuring he would get to be a part of her life indefinitely. I know she’ll want to get to know him. Why wouldn’t she? She had a kid with the guy. It doesn’t even matter—and it probably never will—that I’ve been there for Bianca far longer than he has been. I love that kid more than he ever possibly could. We don’t have to share the same blood to be family, and that’s how I feel about her.

This is killing me slowly.

“You want another?” the bartender asks as he passes by me.

I glance down at the Jack and Coke, or what’s left of it, anyway. I nod. Why the hell not? I’m not going anywhere else tonight except up to my room. I might as well drink until I feel no pain.

Something has to stop this ache that has consumed me.

I’ve purposely not mentioned James’s name to Ellie because I don’t want to know the details. I don’t want her to tell me that she called him or went to see him or, worse, let Bianca meet him. I prefer to be blessedly ignorant in that regard. But then I spend all my time wondering if she called him or went to see him or, worse, let Bianca meet him. It’s a no-win situation. Not knowing hurts as much as knowing.

Why the fuck did this guy have to show up now? Just when things are getting good. What if Ellie falls in love with him? Or even if she simply wants to be with him so they can raise Bianca together. Where the fuck does that leave me?

“Here you go.” The Jack and Coke appears in front of me. “This one’s on the house.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, wishing I could appear more appreciative.

Right now, I simply don’t have it in me.

Meanwhile, in hockey news…

“Jim, are you as baffled as I am? I’m not sure exactly what happened out there tonight. This Arrows team certainly isn’t the one that came roaring out of the gate at the beginning of the season.”

“I completely agree, Ed. Look back at the highlights from the net tonight. Rush looked like a rookie out there.”

“You’re right, Jim. Nothing like the seasoned goaltender we know him to be. I’d be tempted to say he looks a lot like he did at the end of last season.”

“He was all over the place. Three goals on him and I guarantee you, all three of those he would want to give back.”

“Those were the types of goals, Jim, that a net minder gets ninety-nine point nine percent of the time. Never fail. Yet tonight…”

“It was like he wasn’t even there, Ed. Not even there. I don’t know why Moen kept him in the game.”

“I don’t know, Jim. The Arrows are going to have to ramp it up if they want to make it to the postseason this year. A couple of bad games won’t do any damage, but they can’t let it get out of control. That’s what happened to them for the past two years. I only hope Moen’s keeping his thumb on these guys. They’ve got a solid team, but a few more games like this… They’ll be right back where they were last year.”

Ellie:
Rough night. I watched at the bar. No one was happy with the calls. Some were bad, some were just stupid. Wanted you to know I was thinking about you.

Kingston:
Yep. One of those nights.

Ellie:
You doing okay?

Kingston:
Fine.

Ellie:
Okay… Well, if you want to talk, you know where to find me.

44

Ellie

Saturday, December 17th

I don’t know why I chose not to meet James at the Penalty Box. He offered after he told me he had been looking at my Facebook profile and knows where I work. For some reason I don’t want to be there. Not for our first face-to-face conversation since the day we unknowingly created our daughter. I know Noelle would be too curious and probably Julie, as well. On top of that, a lot of the customers know me. If things go sideways, that’s the last place I want to be.

Which is why I’m currently walking through Lakeline Mall, past Pac Sun and American Eagle as I make my way toward the food court, where we agreed to meet. The scent drifting from Auntie Anne’s has me suddenly craving a cinnamon pretzel.

Nope. Never mind. The mere thought has my stomach churning, my nerves stealing my hunger.

I feel like I’m meeting this man for the first time. Hell, I don’t even remember much about what he looks like. It’s been so long, and that single night is fuzzy thanks to all of the birthdays, play-offs, Thanksgivings, and Christmases that have passed. Not to mention the teething, the first day of kindergarten, the first dance, and yes, even the first pink hair.

But since this man, who is claiming to be my daughter’s father, said he was interested in talking to me, I know I can’t ignore him indefinitely. I did, however, manage to put James off for an entire week. I finally mustered up the nerve and called him last Saturday. We talked only briefly, and I told him I’d be willing to meet with him on Saturday. Today. He said that worked perfectly because he would be able to get a flight into Austin later in the week. I didn’t bother to ask him what he does for a living, or where he lives, but obviously he doesn’t live here. I’m not sure why I thought he would. We met in Las Vegas.

So, while I counted down the days, I had some time to think, to mull things over, to figure out what I’ll say to him when I see him for the first time after thirteen years.

Surprisingly, he hasn’t tried to rush me. We even exchanged a few text messages. Most of them were him texting to see if I was okay. For some reason, he thinks this is going to be hard on me.

He’s right. It is. I can’t imagine what it’s like for him.

And I’m nervous. The kind of nervous that makes your hands sweat and your stomach flutter. I feel something in my chest. It’s kind of hollow. With an echo. From all that damn fluttering going on.

I pass by a kiosk bedazzled with jewelry, another with cute cartoonish-looking signs with people’s names on them, then stop as I approach the food court. My heart is beating a mile a second, and I’m starting to feel dizzy.

“Ellie?”

I swallow hard and turn…

“James,” I whisper, shocked to the soles of my feet as I stare up into his face. He’s tall. Really, really tall.

Oh, my God.

It’s James. Bianca’s father. My Las Vegas one-night stand from thirteen years ago. He looks very much the same, only … at least a decade older.

Although I had my doubts when he contacted me, I know
this man
is her father. My memories might be fuzzy, but I would know him anywhere. Probably because Bianca looks so much like him it’s uncanny. She’s got my eyes—though hers are definitely more the color of his, an incredibly rich emerald green—and my dimpled chin, but she has his nose and cheekbones. And his thick eyebrows. She’s even got his ears.

He smiles warmly and my stomach plummets to my toes.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Come on. Sit down.”

I think I’m hyperventilating.

A gentle hand curls around my elbow and guides me to a table. James pulls out a chair and helps me into the seat.

“I’ll be right back.”

I lift my head and watch as he walks over to one of the restaurants. He buys a bottle of water and fills a cup with ice before returning. Without a word, he opens the bottle, pours water into the cup, and pushes it toward me. I’m not sure why it surprises me, but it does.

“Thank you.”

I take a sip. The cold does wonders to cool me down, so I sip more and then place my purse on the table and force a smile. “Sorry about that.”

His smile returns.

The man is incredibly attractive and looks almost exactly as I remember. The first thing I note is that he looks eerily similar to most of the men in my life. I tend to hang around hockey players, so I’m familiar with bumps, bruises, and scars marring their faces. This man’s face is clean-shaven and smooth, but yes, there’s the underlying evidence of some sort of action to his face at some point. Probably sports, if I had to guess. We actually met in a sports book, though neither of us was betting. I was watching a news report while I waited for my friends to join me. I don’t know what he’d been doing, but we did talk briefly about hockey. His dark hair, which is receding slightly in front, is styled in that unkempt way that seems to be popular. He’s ruggedly handsome, even with all his imperfections.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice smooth and deep.

“I am. You took me off guard a little.”

“I know the feeling.” He rests his arms on the table. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks for not letting me faint. It would’ve been embarrassing.”

The polite formality of our conversation makes me wish I’d asked him to come to the bar. At least that way Noelle could probably ease some of the tension.

“I have to admit I was a little surprised to hear from you.” That’s an understatement, actually.

His forehead creases slightly. “Why’s that?”

I glance down at my cup. “I didn’t know my daughter had posted that on Facebook.” I peer up at him. I don’t see any judgement in his eyes, so I continue. “I monitor her social media accounts, but apparently, the new thing is to have more than one. I didn’t know she’d done that. So your phone call was a shock.”

“Well, that definitely explains a few things.” His smile is once again warm and friendly.

“Like?”

“A friend of mine actually came across the post.” That wasn’t surprising; it had gone viral. “I thought he was crazy when he sent it to me. He was there with me that weekend, but I don’t think you met him. I think he sent it as a joke at first because the timeline happened to work out, but when I saw your picture, I immediately knew it was you. I wondered why you didn’t post it, why she did instead. With the Internet being what it is and all.”

That was a polite way of saying he had questioned my mothering abilities. In this situation, I can’t say I blame him. My daughter put the bar’s phone number out there for the world to have all in the hope of finding some stranger. It’s a wonder we didn’t receive random phone calls from people asking stupid things. Now that I think about it, we have received a few strange calls over the past month, but it’s a published number, so I thought nothing of it.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t find you sooner,” I rush to say. “I tried. Honest to God, I tried.” I offer a small smile. “There are a lot of Jameses in the world.”

He laughs and some of the strain eases from my body.

“So what are our first steps?” he asks. “I’ll admit, I have absolutely no experience with this.” His smile turns sheepish. “I guess no one really does, though, huh?”

“No children?” I ask and realize I’m holding my breath as I wait for his answer.

“No,” he admits. “I was married once. That lasted about three years. We parted amicably. I’m fresh out of a rather serious relationship. Again, it ended on good terms.”

“All-around good guy?” I tease.

“That’s the way it works. Girls seem to want the bad boy and well … I don’t seem to have those qualities.” He cocks his head to the side. “Although, I do have the face.”

That makes me laugh.

“What is it that you do?”

“I’m a lawyer. Well, technically, I
was
a lawyer. No, wait. I still am, but now I’m a sports agent.”

I smile. I like that he’s rambling a little. It means he’s as nervous as I am.

A sports agent, huh? “Really? For which sport?”

“Hockey.”

Wow.

“I currently live in Colorado,” he says.

“You’re kidding me.” If he finds it strange that I get excited over this detail, James doesn’t show it.

“Not kidding. Small world, right?”

I can tell he knows something.

“Ellie, I might not know everything about you, but I do read the news, and I keep up with professional hockey. When I read Bianca’s post, I got curious, so I dug deeper. I know who your brother is. I also know it was announced that you’re dating Kingston Rush, who happens to be Heath Rush’s older brother.”

“You know Heath?”

James nods. “I know a lot of people.”

I feel my face heat. “Yeah, definitely a small world.” I take a sip of my water, then look back up at him. “Can I ask how old you are?” It’s probably a really stupid question considering I slept with this guy at one time, but he looks … younger than I thought he would be.

“I just turned thirty-three.”

A flurry of numbers goes through my head and I gasp. “Oh, my God. That means…”

“I was only nineteen when we met.”

“But you were at a club.”

His grin is a bit devilish. “Fake ID.”

I giggle. I can’t believe this.

“But don’t worry, I have grown out of that phase. I assure you.”

I look in his eyes and see James is no longer smiling. “Trust me. That’s not what I was thinking. We were both young.” Apparently, him more so than me. Which, I think, is the strange thing. I had no idea.

“So, first steps?”

I glance down at the table. “I think we should take this slow. Unlike the first time.”

He chuckles. “I think that’s wise.”

“Maybe you and I can get to know each other a little better before I introduce you to Bianca. And I think a paternity test is fair. To you and to her. I hope that doesn’t offend you, but—”

James reaches out and touches my hand. “Ellie, like I said, this is new to me. I only found out I have a daughter a week ago. Sure, it’s been thirteen years, and I don’t want to waste too much time before I get to see her, but I trust your judgement. I’ll follow your lead.”

I can’t help it, tears spring to my eyes. I’ve spent the last week coming up with worst-case scenarios. I imagined meeting him for the first time and having him tell me that she couldn’t possibly be his, although I’m not sure why he would’ve shown up if that was the case. I also thought about what would happen if he decided he wanted to take Bianca away from me.

Instead, this man seems genuinely interested in meeting his daughter, and he’s being incredibly mature about it.

“Do you have a picture of her?” he asks. “Of when she was a baby?”

Smiling to myself, I pull out my phone. If he wants pictures, I’ve got pictures.