Page 68 of When Alec Met Evie
Carter lifts his eyebrows. “Really?”
I push my hands into the pockets of my joggers. Here lately, Carter has been a lot more amenable to hanging out with the team than Theo has, which means it almost never happens. Usually, Carter caves and does whatever Theo wants to do instead. I can’t figure it out. The longer Theo is here, the more time he spends on the ice, the more miserable he seems to be. “Yeah. Really. I’d like you to be there.”
Carter looks over at his brother, but Theo quickly shoots him down.
“Can’t,” he says through a mouthful of Raisin Bran. “We’ve got plans. Dates.”
Dates at least feels safer than the two of them going out and partying on their own. Still, I’d rather they be somewhere I can keep an eye on them.
“Bring them,” I say.
“We could—” Carter says, but Theo cuts him off.
“Sorry,” he says, eying his brother. “There’s this place on the other side of town I want to check out. I already told the girls about it.”
“What place?”
“For real? Do you grill everyone on the team like this?” Theo asks, and my jaw tightens.
“Not trying to grill you, man. But I’ve been at this a lot longer than you have. I’m just trying to look out for you.”
His shoulders drop the slightest bit. “It’s called The Steam Engine. It’s kinda like a club, but on Friday nights, they have college night with a theme and everything, and tonight it’s line dancing.” He motions to his brother. “That’s one thing we know how to do, so we’re going.”
I look at Carter.
He nods enough to confirm Theo’s story checks out, so I breathe out a sigh. “All right. But we have an early game on Saturday. That means we have to be at the Summit even earlier, so don’t mess around. And no drinking.”
Theo rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, Dad. As soon as we leave the club, we’ll come back like good little children and do exactly what you say.”
I look from one brother to the other, remembering so easily what it was like to be as young as they are. I had a little more structure than they do, playing four years at Cornell, which made it easier to transition into adulthood. But these guys were basically thrown into the deep end, and they’re barely adults. It’s a lot to ask.
But Theo is acting like he doesn’t want to be on the team at all. I don’t need him to do everything I say, but I am his captain, and that’s a title that deserves at least some level of respect, especially from someone so new to the team.
I pull a barstool away from the counter and position it directly across from Theo. “Carter, can you give us a minute?”
He shoots a concerned glance at his brother, then slides off his barstool. He puts his plate in the sink, then leaves me in the kitchen with Theo.
“Hey,” I say, waiting for him to make eye contact. When he finally does, I add, “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on here?”
He shrugs dismissively. “Nothing’s going on.” He lifts his hand to his mouth and starts biting at his thumbnail, eyes averted.
“When did you start playing hockey?” I ask.
He clearly wasn’t expecting the question, because he looks right at me, eyebrows raised.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It doesn’t. I’m just making conversation.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, his gaze assessing, before he says, “We were little. Barely walking. My dad plays, or…played, I guess.”
“Was he pro?” I ask, and Theo shakes his head.
“Just beer leagues. He maybe could have done more, but he was in a car accident in college that screwed up his back. He was never the same after.” He slides his bowl forward, the spoon clattering against the ceramic. “He always hoped we would, though.”
“And now you are,” I say. “That must make him proud.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Theo says, his voice distant. “He died last year. Another car accident. What are the odds, right?”
