Page 23 of Wake Me Up
He flashes me a bashful grin and surprises me by throwing his arm around me as we finish walking toward the car. “You’re just lucky, I guess.” He grins. “Buuut … for what it’s worth, I do hope you’ll change your mind and say yes. To … you know, the game.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t be mad or annoyed when the kid is saying it as politely as he can. “I’ll give it some thought. Deal?”
He bobs his head up and down sharply. “Deal.”
Freya and Cash are long gone, and yet I sit in the arena, feeling like a fucking loser. I knew I should have waited to offer tickets to my game. I’m alreadydoing too much between showing up at Cash’s game a few weeks ago, going to dinner with them, and then giving him private lessons. It’s more than obvious Freya doesn’t want to get to know me. She keeps me at arm’s length, and yet there I went, trying to get her to come to my damn game.
“Private lessons? Free tickets to the game against the Bruins?” Walker says, coming out of nowhere behind me. “What gives, Trippy? You mustreallylike that kid, huh?”
Once he finishes walking down the arena stairs, he plops down in the seat next to me.
“How’d you hear the ticket thing?” I grumble, thinking he was long gone.
“Oh, I heard. Trust me, I wasn’t far away,” he says playfully. “What’s going on, Talmage?”
I don’t answer because what the fuck would I even say? Tell him the truth—that I really do like the kid, but I also can’t stop thinking about the kid’s mother? Or do I lie and say that I just want to be nice to them because they’ve lost enough? Which is true, but I can’t lie—most of what I’m doing is for my own benefit.
I’m intrigued by Freya, and I enjoy spending time with her kids. And admitting both of those things would make me sound fucking crazy—because that’s a complicated situation. And I’d sound like a pussy too.
“Talk to me, buddy,” he says, leaning forward in his seat. “It’s just you and me, and it won’t make you sound like less of a badass if you actually admit you have a heart, you know.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I mutter, turning back into my normal self. When she and her kids aren’t around, this guy—the one who doesn’t want to have long talks or feel things—takes over. “The kid lost his dad at a young age, and I just want to help out. And he’s talented. Really talented.”
“And the way you’re looking at his mama?” he says. Even though it comes out lightly, it doesn’t seem like he’s teasing me. Even so, it’s annoying, and it pisses me off. “Is that you helping out too?”
“Fuck is it to you?” I mumble, standing up. “Does it affect you in any single way, James?”
He stands, too, leaning against the plexiglass. “Not really, but I’ve never seen you care so much about anyone else before, other than your mom and sister.”
“Do I not care about my team?” I say, narrowing my eyes. “Is that why I put my body through hell day in and day out for this team?”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Walker snaps back. “You care about the team more than anyone else—including yourself. But that’s my point. You only care about the team and your mom and sister.” He pushes off the glass, stepping in front of me. “I’ve never seen you put so much time into someone else, and I just wanted to make sure that you were okay, Talmage. Okay?” His lips turn up at the side, and he smacks my shoulder. “Don’t get all worked up, man. All right? I was just checking in with you, is all.”
Suddenly, I feel like a prick, but this right here is why I’m known as the grumpy hockey player in most online sources. I don’t exactly give off cute and cuddly vibes. I had no right to get defensive, but I guess I did because whatever I’m feeling for Freya … I need to cut it out. She’s clearly not interested.
“Sorry, James,” I utter, looking away. “Just on edge, I guess.”
“It’s all good,” he says, unaffected, before throwing his arm around me and turning my body toward the stairs. “You can make up for it by taking me out to lunch. Deal?”
I roll my eyes, but the smallest smile pulls at my lips. “Fine. But no asking me about Freya or her kids. Deal?”
“Ooh—Freya, h—” He snaps his mouth shut when I give him a piercing stare. “All right. All right.” He holds his hands up. “No talk of … that woman and her kids. You have my word.”
“Good,” I grumble. “Let’s go. I’m hungry.”
The guys on this team may drive me crazy with their oversharing, big feelings, and overtalking, but I wouldn’t trade any of them for anything. They are my brothers, even if they are annoying as hell.
Especially Walker fucking James.
Ikeep my head resting on my hands and don’t take my eyes off of Aviana as she lies asleep in the hospital bed after a not-so-subtle reminder that her epilepsy can choose to throw a curveball anytime it wants to.
Yesterday morning, I got the call from school that no parent wants to get. And unfortunately for me, it wasn’t the first time I’d gotten this particular call, yet that didn’t make it any less frightening for me. My baby girl had had another seizure and was being taken by ambulance to the nearby hospital.
A subtle knock on the doorframe sends me upright as her pediatrician walks into the room. He was my pediatrician, too, and in some weird way, that makes me trust him even more.
Dr. Ash is a short, older man with a bald head, white mustache, and glasses. Seeing him calms me and makes me anxious at the same time because while he is the best at making me feel better about her diagnosis, he’s also the one who always seems to be delivering the bad news.
“Freya,” he says, mustering up a gentle smile. “How’s she doing?”
