Page 20 of Truce: Declan
"It's just…" I rub the back of my neck. Can I tell them about Jasmine and the little boy? I shift uncomfortably on the bench. Maybe I can tell them a little and leave out the part about the kid.
They both stare at me, waiting for me to elaborate.
"Jasmine showed up at my door last night."
"Why the fuck did you go home?" Jasper asks. He holds up a finger. "Don't answer that—what did Jasmine want?" He gets right to the point.
The words feel heavy, like I betrayed Charlotte even though we're not dating. We're not exactly anything, no label, yet I still feel like shit over it.
"Her husband was beating on her. She wanted a safe place to crash for the night."
Kyler growls. "What the fuck, man? There are shelters and shit for that. You don't need Jasmine dragging her trash into your house."
Those words burn more than I care to admit. "She was desperate," I say as if that is enough of an explanation. "And her brother-in-law is a cop. You don't think they know where all the shelters are located?"
Jasper curses and shares a glance at Kyler. "Does her husband know about her past? About you? You don't need trouble following you home."
I hang my head in my hands. "Tell me about it," I mutter. I've done well to avoid the tabloids and media. There's the press after a game, when we're required to answer questions, but I try to keep my personal life private. And thus far, there's been no juicy gossip. Nothing to encourage the paparazzi to hound me.
But now, with the news of Zayn, it's like a stormy thundercloud hanging overhead, waiting to unleash its torrential downpour.
And the range of emotions, a mixture of anger for not knowing that I might have a son and Jasmine hiding it, to sadness because I've potentially missed out on so much already, is unsettling.
My stomach flops thinking about me being a dad.
It's not something I ever contemplated happening. I've always been careful when having sex, because kids and a career as a star athlete don't exactly mix. Maybe some people can pull it off, but I'm not the guy who has a family.
That's not me.
It's not my dream.
And certainly not with Jasmine.
My mouth is as sour as my stomach, the nausea sweeping over me.
Kyler pats me on the back, oblivious to the baby problem because I haven't told them yet. No sense in bringing it up until it's a sure thing. If I'm lucky, it won't be. Jasmine very well could have another baby daddy out there, one who isn't an abusive dick.
"Do you want to come over? We can have drinks tonight and get your mind off Jasmine," Kyler offers. "Jasper and Amber can tag along."
"Gee, thanks," Jasper says, flipping Kyler his middle finger at the roundabout invitation.
"What?" Kyler deadpans. "I was serious. You and your girlfriend are welcome over."
Jasper snorts. "That invitation sounded about as welcoming as your—"
I interrupt the two of them, keeping them from bickering. "Save it for the ice and our game tomorrow," I scold them like children.
"Okay, Mom," Jasper says, and I growl, doing everything I can to bite back the feelings surfacing.
"Shut up before I take my hockey stick and shove it—"
"Reece!" Coach Malone shouts at me.
I grumble under my breath, shut my lips, and snap around to face the coach who has decided to grace us with his presence in the locker room.
"A word," Coach says and nods for me to join him.
"Good luck," Kyler says with a wry grin. "I'll see you tonight?" he asks.
