There was another long pause before he answered. “I liked the attention. I liked that a pretty girl, someone so young and gorgeous, wanted me. I felt like I was on top of the world.”
“So, I’m not pretty anymore? I’m too old?” Her voice cracked and she dashed her tears away angrily, her hands shaking as she did.
Mum was beautiful. She had flawless skin without a single wrinkle and the most incredible green eyes. Her brown hair was long, almost down to her waist, and tipped with blonde. But like me, she was a bigger girl—our bodies jiggled when we walked. We had wide hips and thick legs. Our bellies weren’t flat, and our breasts and bottoms were way more than a handful. I thought Dad loved that about her.
But I was wrong.
I thought I’d find a boy or two who loved that about me too.
Was I wrong about that as well?
I watched as his continued silence shattered her confidence.
Finally, he sighed. “I didn’t say that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“Please enlighten me, then,” she bit back. When he remained closed-lipped, she added, “I’m moving into the beach house. We’re done.”
Mum’s hands were shaking when she hung up. I reached out, clasping her hands tight. Her breath hitched and she slid her eyes closed. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she curled into herself, her back bowing as she rocked back and forth. My heart shattered. Logically, I knew it wasn’t, but it felt like my fault—if I hadn’t walked in on Dad, she wouldn’t be sitting in front of me, heartbroken. But knowing the truth was better. Wasn’t it?
I hugged her close, and Mum cried against my shoulder, her sobs soaking my shirt. I wanted to fix things for her, to make it right. But I couldn’t.
Mum eventually pulled back. She wiped her tears and sucked in a breath. Then she squared her shoulders. She lifted her chin and exhaled slowly. Determination radiated from her.
Mum was the strongest person I knew. She was going to be okay.
two
Hux
Mid-April
“Huuuxly,” Mironov yelled. Even though the locker room was rowdy, his deep voice boomed off the walls, reverberating like a foghorn.
I high-fived him as I waddled past, my skates sinking into the thick rubber matting.
We were at home for our final game of the season. We weren’t in the running for the Stanley Cup. Yet. For our second season in the NHL we hadn’t done too badly.
We’d come close.
We’d sent a message.
The Seals were not bottom dwellers. We were making our way to the top of the food chain, and we’d have our Cinderella moment soon. We were destined for greatness, and I couldn’t fucking wait to hoist that cup high.
I’d been a starry-eyed rookie last year, and I’d worked hard to earn my place. This season I’d cemented my stats and focussed on getting as much ice time as I could. I wanted to create magic from every first touch.
It had worked too. I was now a starting forward for the San Diego Seals, and I was an up-and-coming player to watch. My stats were some of the best on the team, but I tried not to let it get to my head. Careers changed on a dime and mine was no exception.
But hockey was my destiny. It was in my blood. I’d worked every day for nearly two decades, studying every game, watching every move in awestruck wonder. I’d wanted to be just like them.
But it was more than that too. It was a need that I couldn’t describe. Ihadto focus on scoring. Ihadto be the best. Nothing in hockey was guaranteed. But it was all I had.
I’d cut myself off from virtually everyone and everything to get to the top of my profession, and yet I still wanted more in life. I wanted to be out. I wanted the people I shared a bed with to be proud enough to stand next to me and acknowledge me.
But that wasn’t how life worked, was it?
Most pro-hockey players didn’t make it past their second year. I had another year on my contract to go. My stats were good enough that I knew I’d be playing next season. At least I had what I wanted in hockey even if my personal life wasn’t perfect.
My next goal was to be picked for the All-Stars. I wanted the Seals to retire my number when I finally set down my skates in a decade or, hell, two. When people got a trading card with my face on it, I didn’t want it to go in the bottom of a shoe box. I wanted them to treasure it.
