Page 92 of Stick By Me

His body relaxed and in a small voice, he said to his uncle, “Does Coach Dupont know you’re telling me this today? Does he know about Dad’s condition?”

“No, I haven’t talked to him.” Tad pressed his lips into a grim line. “I think your dad called him after you left the message about him. I think he warned him.”

“About what?” Archer threw a glare at Tad.

“He wanted to be sure the offer he was giving you was because you earned it.” Tad hung his head and rubbed his temple. “Fuck, this is harder than I thought.”

“So, did I earn it? Or am I being given this chance because I’m the coach’s son?” Archer fisted his hands again.

“I…” Tad puffed out a breath. “I don’t know.”

“I’m sure you earned it, babe.” I attempted to pull him close, but he resisted. “Archer. Hey.” I jiggled him.

He jumped up and strode to the window, his hands opening and closing. “Fuck!” He stomped his foot, then twisted around, his gaze hard. “I’m shit. I’m a nobody and all this time I thought maybe I had a chance.” His eyes glittered under the fluorescent lights. “I’m not going to the fucking camp, even if he invites me.”

“Don’t say that.” I jogged to him and made to grab his arm.

He yanked away from me and paced across the room. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Leo. Am I good enough for the NHL or am I fooling myself?” He stopped across the room and glared at me.

Holy shit, I needed Jonah here. Jonah would understand this a thousand times better than me. “You’re good enough. Your coach even said so, right? You’re getting more ice time.” I strode to him and poking him in the chest, I said, “You know, right here, you’ve been playing the best hockey you’ve ever played. You know when you focus and work hard, you make plays happen. You keep the puck away from Ace. You. Make. It. Happen.” I gazed deeply into his stricken eyes.

His lower lip trembled, then he threw his arms around my neck. “Thank you, Leo.” He sniffed. “Fuck, I’m a mess.”

“I know, but I’m right here. Go ahead and be a mess. You deserve to lose your shit if you need to.” I held him tightly, my hands clutching at the back of his puffy jacket. I’d call Jonah later. He’d be able to help me help Archer.

Archer’s breath hitched and he freed a strangled sob, then he calmed and slumped against me.

“Babe, you okay?” I kissed his hair. There was still so much to unpack in this situation, still so many unanswered questions. We had to have a plan of attack and then I could execute it and take away his pain.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He lifted up out of my hold, rubbed his nose, then wormed his way out of his jacket, exposing the cream sweater he’d put on this morning. “We’re staying, so I guess we can lose the coats.”

“Yeah.” I’d already unzipped mine, but even inside it still felt cold to me. “I might uh, leave mine on.”

He patted my shoulder and gave me a quick, thin-lipped grin. “My Arizona boy.”

With a chuckle, I brushed my hand down the back of my hair. “Yep, thin blood.” I roamed my gaze to Tad, studying us.

“Tad, I have some questions.” Archer took up his seat on the couch across from Tad.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

ARCHER

Now I was over the initial shock, and thank fuck Leo had been here with me to drag me out of my spiral, I needed answers. Lots of them. Not only had my world view been flipped on its head, the saintly image I’d painted for my mother was seriously damaged. How could she have cheated on Dad? And no wonder he’d never supported my hockey career the way she had.

Leo stepped to me, and I looked up at him, all bundled in a navy-blue fleece and my old parka. Grabbing his wrist, I tugged him down next to me.

“Go ahead, Archer. Ask me anything.” Tad sat back and spread his arms along the back of the couch.

“How is my dad’s name on my birth certificate?” I’d start with the easy questions. I twined my fingers in Leo’s and rested our hands on my knee.

“That’s the name they gave the hospital. Richard wasn’t going to dispute it, so there never was a blood test done to say otherwise.” Tad tapped the fingers of one hand on the cushion.

“So, how did they know I wasn’t his? How did they know Coach Dupont had gotten Mom pregnant?” I arched a brow. I couldn’t think of Richard Dupont as anything other than a coachat this point. I gritted my teeth for a second. Leo had said I looked like Coach Dupont, but that didn’t mean anything.

“Your dad has a rare genetic condition that left him infertile. No sperm count.” He winced.

“But you’re fine?” I scratched my cheek. Uncle Tad had twin daughters. “Your girls are yours?—”

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