Page 19 of A Little Puck Luck

Eric nodded and pointed to the books on the nightstand. Terry reached over, picked up the books, and flipped through the various picture books. Then, Eric pointed to one and said, “I can read you this one.”

Terry nodded and laid the other books back on the nightstand. He flipped open the book, and that’s when I caught sight of the cover and realized it was Z for Zamboni, which made sense. Eric loved that book and knew all the letters by heart now. Although, it was tricky to know for sure if Eric could actually read it or if it was only memorized.

I loved watching their interaction, but I was exhausted, so I let the two of them have a private moment. It was quite possibly the sweetest thing ever, and it was causing me to fall for Terry all over again.

Chapter 14

Scuba

IadoredhearingEricread the book to me and was impressed that there was a lot of solid hockey information in it. I expected it would be super simple with just a letter or so, but each page had a paragraph or two going more in-depth into the game.

As we got to the end, Eric looked up at me. “I’m sorry about waking you up. I hope you’re not angry.”

I hugged him closely. I wish I could make him feel less scared. Sure, I was seeing improvements with him and, to a lesser degree, his mom, but it still broke my heart with how much terror they went through.

Instead, I did the only thing I knew to do, which was to reassure my son. “No, little dude. I could never be angry at you.”

Frowning, Eric mumbled, “But I woke you up.”

I chuckled.

I just got home from having some fun with the fellas since I needed a distraction from the longest case of blue balls in my life. I was trying my best not to fuck around when Annie was living in my home. Hell, if I was really being honest with myself, I still wanted her despite being so damn angry at her, and I couldn’t bring myself to go back to puck bunnies.

“You didn’t wake me up. I just got home.”

Eric lowered his head as if it was a foreign concept that someone could come home in the middle of the night. But that was the life of a professional athlete.

“Oh,” he uttered.

Everything in my gut told me that Eric was talking as a way to stall the inevitable, so I leaned my head on his head and said, “You know, you don’t have to be afraid to go to sleep.”

“But the dreams get so scary, and even without those, I keep wetting the bed.”

That was a shock. Sure, I left laundry for my housekeeper, Natalie, or even Annette, but I felt like that was something I should have picked up on.

I pulled him in and squeezed him for a stronger hug. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. Only babies wet the bed, and I’m not a baby.”

I smiled at that. I loved his spunk, but this made it clear in my mind that he needed a psychiatrist. Enough time had passed for Annette to come to that conclusion on her own. Now, it was time to press the issue and take him myself. It was probably an expense thing for her, and I had enough money for the whole dysfunctional family.

“Have you ever thought about talking to someone about everything?”

Eric turned his head as he asked, “Like to you or mommy?”

Hearing him think about me as someone he could come to felt good. There were days I didn’t think we were getting anywhere, but it was moments like this I knew I was getting through to him.

“I was thinking more of a doctor, so if there were times you wanted to talk about me or your mom, you could.”

Eric made a subtle face that let me know that he didn’t like the idea. I had to dig a little bit more since it could be he was fed some bullshit that only sissies go to psychiatrists, or maybe he really was okay. But the fact that he was wetting his bed and having nightmares told me differently.

“Did you know I go to the doctor to talk about my feelings and stuff?”

Eric’s eye bulged out. “Really? What do you talk about?”

“Hockey, mostly. But lately, we have also talked about how I’m adjusting to life with you and your mom. Sometimes I don’t say anything at all. It all helps.”

“Really? What about Mr. Spencer?”

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