Page 49 of Nash

“You're doing amazing.” I have nothing but pride for her. “I've never seen anybody work as hard as you do.”

She flashes me an incredulous look. “That is so not true,” she says. “Nash, all you've done is work your ass off since you were a kid. And sure, in the beginning, hockey may have been a passion for you, something you did because you loved it and you were damn good at it, but the minute Dad got sick?The minute the bills started piling up? The minute you had to step in and become more than just a big brother?” She visibly swallows, shrugging a little. “I've never seen anybody work that hard. And you've never stopped. Not for a second. Not even after you signed your rookie contract and the finances were no longer such a burden.”

Emotion clogs my throat, so I clear it and take a long sip of scalding hot coffee. She's not wrong. I’ve spent the last decade busting my ass trying to be both a parent to her and a support system to myactualparents.

“Well,” I say. “It's all been worth it,” I continue. “Dad's doing better. Mom is able to focus on him without having to worry about shuffling three jobs just to pay the bills, and you're all set to become one of the best sports-medicine-neuroscience-scientists in the world,” I say, exaggerating her title, but it's just too fun not to.

The way she’s focused on her career goals for the past few years has been nothing short of incredible, her taking the fast track working on both her bachelor’s and PhD at the same time. It's a program that she had to get authorized from the dean of the college, but she managed to convince him that earning these degrees was her sole focus, and she was lucky enough to have college paid for as well as living expenses so school would be her only job until she graduated. Which was coming up quick with a little over a month left in her college career.

She laughs and shakes her head. “I wouldn't be able to do whatIdo if you weren't doing what you do,” she says. “I know my college has cost almost as much as Dad's medical bills, and trust me, the minute I secure a job, I’m going to pay you back?—”

“No, you're not,” I cut her off, rolling my eyes. “Paying for your college is not a favor or a loan. I can do it, so I’m doing it. Watching you do what you love will be enough of a reward for me.”

She smiles at me, leaning back in the booth slightly as the waitress sets our food in front of us. “You're pretty amazing,” she says once the waitress has left, and we start digging into our food. “You know your giant heart almost makes up for the fact that you're super overbearing and annoying sometimes,” she teases.

I take a giant bite of my avocado toast. “I’m not overbearing.”

She glares at me from across the table. “You soare,” she says.

“Am not.”

“Are too,” she says more forcefully. “How do you explain my freshman year of college then?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” I say, looking at her like she's grown another head. “The only thing I did to you in college while I was in my final year was help you move into your dorm.”

“That's such BS,” she says, laughing like I'm the most ridiculous person on the planet. “You literally scared off every single guy who might’ve been interested in me, threatening to ram a hockey stick up their asses if they so much aslookedat me.”

I bark out a laugh, totally forgetting I did that. I take another bite, shaking my head. “I only said that to the guys who were jerks.”

“In your eyes, every guy who was interested in me was a jerk,” she counters.

“I was just looking out for you,” I argue. “I have a little more experience with assholes than you do. I’m around them constantly.”

“Well thank goodness you were only at the same school as me for a year, at least when you went off to start your rookie contract men were actually able to speak to me without fearing for their lives.”

“What men?”

Hadley laughs at me. “You're insufferable.”

“I go from amazing to insufferable in the span of a few minutes?” I tease her. I reach for her plate, scooting it closer toward me. “Maybe I'll just finish this off for you since I'm soinsufferable?—”

“Don't, I'm starving!” She pulls her plate back, guarding it with her life as she pours syrup over her hashbrowns. She takes a few bites before sipping her coffee again and eyeing me suspiciously.

“I'm not going to steal your food,” I say. “As much as I would love to dig into that, I have to eat things that arefuelingmy body as of right now. But once the off-season comes it's going to be waffles for a week.”

“Do you have any plans for the off-season?” she asks. “Are you going to actually do something foryourselffor a change or are you going to spend the entire time in New York with Mom and Dad, fixing every little thing in the house you can or hiring people for the jobs you can't?”

My eyes widen at her, and I look around like I’m searching for answers. “What’s got you in such a mood today?”

“Oh please, I'm in a mood every day,” she says. “You know I'm constantly begging you to take more time for yourself. You've already done more than enough for the family. Mom and Dad agree.”

I finish up my second slice of avocado toast, cleaning my hands on a napkin before leaning back against the booth and shrugging. “This is all I've known since I was eighteen years old,” I say.

The day Dad got diagnosed.

Everything changed for me then.

My goals may not have changed, but thewhybehind the goal did. I know that things have finally slowed down, and his healthis finally looking up, but it's hard to just stop doing all the things you've done for almost a decade.

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