Mack gets out in the driveway and runs up to them before I pull my truck into the garage. She never likes leaving Cadence, and she always feels guilty. Typically, I would bring Cadence to Mack’s game with me, but today’s match was during nap time, and believe me, it is in everyone’s best interest that Cadence gets her beauty sleep.
I turn off the ignition to my truck and take a deep breath. Each time I’ve come home in the last few weeks since Dakota has started nannying, I’ve had to give myself a pep talk before going inside. Seeing her knocks the air from my lungs, my attraction to her still hasn’t waned—if anything, it’s gotten stronger.
Shaking those thoughts, I get out of my truck and walk inside through the garage door. I hang up my keys and take off my shoes in the mudroom before heading down the hallway into the kitchen.
This house wasn’t what I envisioned myself getting at only twenty years old. I didn’t think that instead of a bachelor pad condo in the city, I’d have a five-bedroom home in the suburbs for my rookie season in the NHL.
McKenna and I gained access to our trust funds earlier this month, and with the signing bonus I got from the Wolverines, I had more than enough money to buy Cadence and Mack the home they deserved.
The strange thing is, I don’t even miss the bachelor lifestyle. Just because I didn’t envision it working out this way doesn’t mean I don’t absolutely love coming home to Cadence and Mack living with me. I’ve never been good at being alone. I like to be supportive—to feel needed. It’s what fills my cup when I’m running on empty.
I swear, the moment my little Cadey Cat came into my life, my world shifted and began to revolve solely around her.
Some have referred to me as the “funcle,” the fun uncle . . . okay, so maybe I’m the only one that refers to me as that, but it’s true. I know how to have a good time and make others around me feel at ease.
It’s just that, for me, being in my head isn’t always the most fun place to be. Ever since Cadence was born—hell, before that, if I’m being honest with myself—I’ve had crippling anxiety. I’m fucking scared all the time that something is going to happen to her, or Mack, or anyone I love and care about. I likely need to purge my insecurities and anxious thoughts to a therapist. But when you are the number three all-around draft pick and highly anticipated NHL prospect, you don’t want to be seen coming in and out of a therapist’s office. It doesn’t photograph well. Online therapy? Sure, I could attempt that, but I don’t have much time before the season begins.
Dakota, Mack, and Cadence are all in the kitchen now getting started on dinner. Mack connects her phone to the sound system, and soon “Wildest Dreams (Taylor’s Version)” floods the space.
I can’t hide the chuckle when Dakota picks up a wooden spoon and starts singing the chorus into it like it’s a microphone. Mack has Cadence on her hip and is singing so off-key it makes me cringe, but I love her enthusiasm nonetheless. When they spot me laughing at them, Mack points to me and says, “Get to work! These veggies aren’t going to cut themselves.”
After washing my hands, I set up my cutting station beside Dakota. I lean down so she can hear me over the music. “Thank you for watching Cadey Cat earlier and for being willing to stay over tonight to watch her. I really appreciate it, Austen.” I don’t mean to, but we’re so close that my cheek grazes hers as I pull away. Heat floods my system from the innocent touch just as Dakota’s breath hitches.
She clears her throat. “No need to thank me. I love watching Cadence. And occasional overnights were part of the job description.”
“I know, but this is different,” I remind her as I stare into her emerald eyes. “Mack isn’t playing volleyball tonight. And you’re staying because I asked you to, not her. I just wanted to thank you again for your flexibility. McKenna doesn’t get many opportunities to celebrate herself these days. I wanted this for her, and you’re a big part of why this was possible.”
She swallows, wetting her lips before she replies. “I’m happy I was able to help, birthday boy. Now, like your sister said,” she points down before continuing, “those veggies aren’t going to cut themselves.”
I smile to myself as I get to work cutting up the vegetables. This feels domesticated as fuck, but I can’t think of a better way to spend my birthday.
After dinner with our parents, they join us as we meet up with a group of our college friends at The Wolf Den, a bar close to the arena where I’ll be playing my home games this season for the Wolverines. A few of my new teammates frequent this bar and told me we had to come by for a celebratory round.
It might seem weird to have our parents join us at the bars on our twenty-first birthday, but we’re a really close-knit family. Losing all that we’ve lost recently has only brought us closer together.
I make my way to the booths in the back of the bar, where I spot Bennett and Jackson Wilson. They are two buddies of mine from high school who are now my new teammates. Bennett was recently appointed captain, and Jackson was invited to training camp that starts next month, where I hope he will earn himself a spot on the final roster.
After giving them each a handshake and back pat, I ask, “Have you been here long? Who else from the team is here?”
Bennett and Jax look like the brothers they are with their tall, broad stature, but their similarities stop at their looks and hockey. As far as their personalities and interests go, they couldn’t be more different.
If I were to describe Jax, I’d say he’s carefree, laidback, and easygoing. Bennett, on the other hand, is an extremely hard worker who likes structure and keeps things close to his chest.
As usual, Jax answers for the two of them. “It’s just us so far. Hughesy and Pacer texted me a bit ago to say they were on their way. Happy birthday, Carsey-baby. I can’t believe the babies of the group are finally twenty-one.”
“Fuck off with that, Jax. You only turned twenty-one last month,” I remind him.
“Semantics.” He grins. “Let me get you a shot. Pick your poison wisely. It’s about to be a long night.”
“Not too long of a night, Jax. We’ve got conditioning tomorrow afternoon,” Bennett says.
“It’s not even an official conditioning. It’s just the two of us,” Jax replies.
Bennett sets his shoulders. “You haven’t signed a contract yet, J. Being invited to training camp isn’t a guarantee of anything. It doesn’t matter how good of a season you had last year. That was college, and this is the show. You’re going to have to keep working your ass off, never letting up, if you want to make the final roster this season.”
There’s the serious big brother I’ve come to know Bennett as.
Jax’s jaw works before he lets out a scoff. “I’m more than aware of what’s at stake. As if our daddy dearest reminding me every day wasn’t enough, now I have to look forward to you busting my balls too. Maybe I should go back to Harvard this season.”
