Page 63 of The Poster Boy
“I’m glad. And I’m proud of you, little brother. I know this trade was hard for you.”
Exhaling, I tried to school my expression. Everything since that stupid tabloid outed me had been difficult. The constant press. The way players treated me, talked about me when they thought I couldn’t hear. Or didn’t care that I could.
“Mom and Dad called me,” Kelsey said, practically whispering as if the tone of her voice would actually soften the blow.
Our parents hadn’t reached out to her since they kicked me out and she took me in. We’d been on our own, but we’d made it work. Correction, she’d made it work. Kelsey was a superhero.
“What did they want?”
Kelsey scoffed. “I didn’t say I answered. Just that they called. They left a voicemail, but I’m not sure I want to hear anything they have to say.”
“You should listen to the voicemail, Kels.” If shehadn’t deleted it outright, it probably meant that she wanted to hear it. At least on some level. “You should listen, and if you want… wanted to mend fences with them… I don’t, but if you do, you can. I won’t be mad, Kels. You’ve done so much for me, and if that’s something you want…”
“I don’t.” Kelsey narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brow. She looked pissed off that I’d even suggest it. “Where’s this coming from?”
“I spent the holidays with Boone Weimer’s family. I forgot what it was like to have that. A mom, a dad, the whole holiday thing. They were so nice to me, Kelsey. It was like I was one of them. I love you, but it’s been just us for so long. I want more than that for you.”
“You’re sweet but fucking stupid if you think Mom and Dad are ever going to be the cozy Christmas family type. They weren’t before, and entrenching themselves in their bigotry certainly won’t have helped.” Kelsey took a breath and leaned closer to the camera. “Listen to me, Marek. Mom and Dad ain’t shit. I spent a lovely holiday with Faye and a bunch of friends from the theater. They were warmer than Mom and Dad were ever capable of.”
“But you didn’t delete the voicemail.”
“In case you wanted to hear it, because I don’t. There’s no fences left to mend. Mom and Dad torched them all. They’re dead to me. Do you want to hear the voicemail?”
“I don’t.”
Kelsey’s approving smile was soft and warm, and it felt like a hug even though we were miles apart. “Consider it deleted.”
A knock at my door drew my attention. “Someone’s here.”
“I’ll let you go. I just wanted to make sure you’re good.”
“I’m good, Kels. Promise. Talk soon. Say hi to Faye for me.”
“Will do.” She blushed as she ended the call.
I loved how happy she was now. She deserved it. I’d almost thought that I deserved happiness too, but I’d started to doubt that.
I pulled the door to my room open and Jay Brookbank stood there with his hands in his pockets. He looked at me, his gaze shaded by the brim of his hat. “Can I come in?”
I moved aside automatically. Even now I’d deny Jay nothing.
Chapter 30
Jay
Ialmost talked myself out of going up to Marek’s room. It was Boone who pushed me to do it. I’d been pacing the floor of our shared room ever since we got back to the hotel. Boone stretched out on his bed and scrolled through his phone.
“Church was his roommate. And he’s not here. So do with that information what you will.”
I glanced at Boone, who didn’t bother to look up from his phone.
“He’s in 412. Go talk to him, dumbass. I won’t wait up.”
The next thing I knew, I was outside Marek’s hotel room. It was a handful of doors down from my room. I half expected him to slam the door in my face, but he stepped aside and let me in.
He looked good. Marek always looked good to me, though. Even when I hated him, he was stupidly attractive. I’d grown addicted to his smile and all the variations he had. The bright smile he gave to the press that looked almost genuine. The smile he gave on the ice when he made a save. The way he used to smile at me felt like a secret smile. Onethat was soft around the edges with a certain kind of fondness in his eyes. It was absent now.
“What are you doing here, Jay?” Marek closed the door but didn’t follow me into the room.
