Page 80 of Play Your Part

My father added, “I throw a kickoff party at the start of every season. It’s a nice way to remember we’re all part of a team, and we all need each other for the organization to succeed.”

“Did you go looking for him that night?” Marina asked, altogether ignoring my father’s contribution. She didn’t care about the organizational culture in the slightest. Her gaze remained razor-focused on me. “To get back at your ex-boyfriend?”

Ah, so that was her issue.

“Mama,” Alexei hissed, his fork clanging against his plate. He said something in Russian.

“No.” What the hell? Maybe she would respect honesty. “I didn’t want anything to do with Alexei. I thought he was an asshole.”

Gemma spat wine back into her glass, and silence descended on the rest of the table.

“An asshole,” Marina repeated.

“Well, yeah. I got one side of the story from Justin,” I explained. “And I mean, no offense, but he does come across as a littletooself-assured, you know?”

Alexei laughed quietly beside me. “No offense, but you thought I was an asshole and too self-assured. That’s great.”

A ghost of a smile graced my lips as I turned to him for the first time since we sat down. I’d waited in agony for this line of questioning and barely paid attention to any of the conversation before this. “Well, what did you think of me? It couldn’t have been much better.”

He shifted in his seat. “You seemed unhinged, remember? The loud cursing, the rambling…”

“In fairness, I was just dumped and drank way too much champagne.”

“But I wanted to know you.”

The tender words froze me like hardening concrete.

“I hadn’t felt anything for anyone in a long time, and you… you made me feel… something.”

The words he shared felt too private for the audience. Is that why he chose this moment to say it? Because I couldn’t brush it aside? In front of an audience, we were supposed to be falling in love, and that declaration should have made me moony-eyed.

“What? A throbbing headache?” I deflected.

“You tested me, for sure, but that’s what I needed. Someone not to take my shit or walk on eggshells around me. I don’t know if I would have… bounced back if I hadn’t met you, Kennedy.”

Gemma made a choked sound at the other side of the table. “I’m sorry.” She used her napkin to dab at her eyes—dramatically or because she needed it, I wasn’t sure.

“You’re ruining their moment,” Matt whispered, but in this quiet room, where a hair follicle hitting the floor might have made been audible, we could all hear him.

My eyes found Alexei’s again because he never stopped looking at me. “I didn’t realize.”

“You are what I’m thankful for this year.”

Not being signed by the Wolves. Not his winning team record. Me. I bit my lip, trying to tamp down an unexpected swell of emotion.

And thanks to that unspoken connection between us, Alexei swung his gaze to his mother, shifting the attention off me. “Does that answer your question?”

A smile slowly bloomed on her face. “I’m thankful you make him happy,” Marina said to me before turning to Alexei. “All I want is your happiness.”

“I’d like to make the playoffs,” Zach announced grandly. Every single head spun in his direction. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“You’re supposed to say what you’re grateful for, jackass,” Matt said. “This isn’t a birthday wish.”

“Fine,” Zach said. “I’m grateful Volk hasn’t evicted me.”

“Yet.” Alexei pointed at Zach, the heaviness of his conversations with me and his mom replaced by mirth. Zach naturally brought that out in everyone, sometimes at the exact right moment.

I was thankful for the laughter filling the room. I hadn’t been sure laughter would ever fill this house again.

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