Mom pulls me into a bear hug as soon as Gracie and I get back home. It’s a gesture I’ve missed more than I thought I would.
“Oh, sweetheart. I missed you. Gosh! What have they been feeding you out there?” She pulls back, holding me in place in front of her by my forearms.
“I missed you too, Ma.”
Gracie pushes by me, laughing. “That’s what I said, Mom. He looks like a protein shake junkie. Better hide his collection of shaker cups while he’s here so he can detox.”
I scowl and yank her ponytail before she can get away. “Shut it.”
“Oh, how the house has been too quiet without your pointless bickering,” Mom sighs. She makes quick work of pulling me to the kitchen and settling me in one of the dining table chairs before sitting in the one across from me.
Her smile is warm, and her eyes are glowing with excitement. I know I must look the same. In every way that counts, my mom is one of my best friends.
“Catch me up. I want to know everything. How’s the team? Have you made any new friends? How’s your apartment? Your roommates?” she rambles, her hands folded beneath her chin.
“One question at a time, Mom.” I laugh when she waves me off.
“Fine. How’s the team been? Have you been keeping your temper at bay? And don’t you lie to me!”
“Temper? You make it sound as if I’m some raging idiot,” I joke.
She shoots me a look that tells me she isn’t in the mood for jokes.
“My temper only flares as much as it usually does when I play. Only a couple of fights so far,” I assure her. She raises her eyebrows, skeptical, but I just shrug, sending her an innocent smile. “The team’s awesome. The skill is a lot better than the Storm, but we already knew it would be. There have been a few scouts out already, but I’m still waiting for Dougie to call me with updates.”
Dougie is my agent and a guy I’ve been working alongside for the past few years of my hockey career. He’s a nice guy, genuine, a straight shooter. Mom likes him, and after the interview from hell she put him through before we hired him, it’s safe to say he’s perfect for the job.
He’s usually great at keeping me updated on the rumours and any talks he’s had with potential teams, so it shouldn’t be long before he reaches out again.
“They’ll come. You’re going to be a hot commodity this draft. I saw you on TV, you know? Well, it wasn’t really you, but they were talking about you. Can you believe that? My son . . . on TV!” She beams and sits up straighter in her chair. My heart thumps hard in my chest at the sheer amount of pride in her words.
“The Ryan and Marcus show, right? I heard about that. It’s still weird for me to see that stuff. I haven’t turned on any of the sports networks in months,” I admit.
“You never have liked being in the spotlight.”
“Makes my skin itch,” I grumble.
“I’m afraid you have to get used to it, my love. It doesn’t seem like it’s going to shine anywhere else for a long while.”
The timer on the oven buzzes loudly, making Mom jump out of her chair. She looks up at the clock hanging on the kitchen’s far wall. “Oh, no! Is it six already? Go get freshened up before Gracie’s boyfriend gets here.”
I double blink. “Her boyfriend? I thought we weren’t meeting him till tomorrow?”
“You were, yes. Before Gracie called me from the studio to let me know she thinks it might be better for you to meet him in more of a private place. With fewer people watching.”
“Oh, how lovely. I’ll get changed, then!” Patting my hands on my shorts, I give her a sly smile and head toward the stairs. Mom hums in response before cupboards begin to open and close.
Once I get to my room, I close the door behind me and swap my shorts for jeans and my Saints hoodie for a black T-shirt. Mom would have a fit if she saw me sitting down for dinner in baggy shorts.
I grab a baseball hat from the large stack resting on my old dresser before heading back downstairs. Flopping down on the couch, I turn on the TV to find it already playing a Vancouver Warriors game. Muscles I didn’t even know were tight instantly relax as I start to watch.
As soon as Vancouver takes the lead just twenty minutes later, the doorbell rings. I move to open it, but Gracie comes barrelling down the stairs before I have the chance. She slants me a sharp glare before taking a long, deep breath, like she needs mental prep before inviting her boyfriend inside. I can smell her fruity perfume from here and wrinkle my nose.
“A little overkill on the perfume, Gray.” I cough for good measure.
She flips me the bird. “Behave, Oakley, or I swear to God you won’t be able to play hockey ever again after I’m done with you,” she hisses before smiling and pulling the door open. I roll my eyes and turn my attention back to the game, trying to focus on it again.
“Hey, babe.” I hear from the porch, followed by a girly giggle. “You look beautiful, Gracie.”
There’s that giggle again. What the hell? Since when does my sister giggle? Cackle like a witch, maybe, but never giggle.
The door closes, and feet pad across the wood flooring toward the living room. Gracie coughs loudly, and I take that as my cue.
I tear my eyes away from the game and turn to give the guy a once-over. Slowly squaring my shoulders, I wear an impassive expression and take my time examining him.
The kid’s pretty tall, towering over my sister—but not as tall as me. I have a few inches on him. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a button-up plaid shirt that looks like he might have even ironed it before coming here. Shaggy blond hair falls carelessly in his face before he reaches up and pushes it back nervously. He looks like a loser.
“Oakley. The big brother.” I hold my hand out in front of me and wait to see if he has a weak handshake, the same as the last guy she brought home. Dad always said a handshake is the most crucial first impression you can give.
“Jacob Lane.” He nods. “The boyfriend.” Much to my surprise, he shakes my hand with a firm grip. “Is that the Warriors game? I only caught the first period before I had to head over. Are they winning?”
Okay, so he’s got confidence. He’ll need it when it comes to my sister, or she’ll eat him alive.
“Yeah, they got two goals in the second period. As soon as they stopped racking up the penalty minutes, they started making moves.” Sneaking a glance at my sister, I catch the proud smile she’s wearing before she sneaks into the kitchen, leaving us alone. Risky. “Make yourself at home. I’m sure our mom will be out soon.”
I return to my spot on the couch and risk sending a text to Ava to brag about the fact that I have yet to punch Gracie’s boyfriend in the face. What’s the worst that can happen? She doesn’t answer?
Me: So I met my sister’s boyfriend and he’s still breathing. Proud of me?
After sending the text, I slip my phone back into my pocket and turn my attention to the game once more as the Warriors manage to slip another puck into the opposing team’s net.
“Yes! Let’s go!” Jacob shouts from the opposite end of the couch. My head snaps up in surprise. When he catches me staring at him, mouth slightly agape, his cheeks flush. I get the idea he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
Chuckling, I decide to ease his embarrassment a bit. “Relax, dude. We’re a hockey family. If you don’t lose your voice by the end of a game, you weren’t loud enough.”
He lets out a relieved sigh and nods at me. His eyes dart around the room awkwardly. “Um, I just wanted to say that you’re a legend in the locker room, man. My buddies were so jealous when I told them I was going to meet you.”
I nod at him, but suspicion coils my stomach tight. “Thanks.”
“Do you think you could like . . . sign something for me? For once you’re in the big leagues?” His face is bright red.
It only deepens in colour when I lean forward and narrow my eyes at him. “Be honest with me here, Jacob. Tell me you’re not with my sister so you can get close with a future NHL player. Having the connection would definitely help you out in the long haul, right? Are you planning on entering the draft at some point?”
He visibly swallows. “Shit, no! I care about Gracie. I swear.”
“Do you plan on entering the draft?” I ask again.
“Yeah. I was hoping to.”
My phone vibrates as I say, “My sister seems to like you enough, so I’m not going to throw your ass out before you have a chance to prove yourself. But if I find out you’ve been playing with my sister’s feelings, I’m going to shove a hockey stick—”
I swallow the rest of my threat when Mom comes prancing into the room. She does a double take at the view in front of her and watches Jacob’s face pale before turning to me with accusations written all over her face. I shake my head at her once, and she lets it go with a tight exhale.
Jacob shoots out of his seat when he notices Mom and goes around the couch to stand in front of her. Holding his hand out in front of him, he introduces himself. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Hutton. I’m Jacob.”
A huge smile spreads across her face as she pulls him into a hug. I chuckle to myself as he relaxes in her grip. “We’re a hugging family. And please, call me Anne.”
I choose this minute to grab my phone and grin like a fool when I read Ava’s text.
Ava: Woah. Want a trophy?
Me: That would be great, actually. It would look great beside all my other ones
Ava: Is that your way of bragging? Should I be impressed?
Me: That depends.
Ava: On what?
Me: Are you impressed?
The three little bubbles appear before they’re gone, and when her response still hasn’t come through a minute later, I slip my phone back and try to shrug off the mild sting of rejection.
When I slot myself back into the conversation happening around me, I see Gracie clutching Jacob’s arm, standing far too close for my liking. Mom, however, just stares at them with hearts in her eyes. The romantic in her has come out in full swing.
I’m about to slip up to my room when my phone buzzes. It’s criminal the way my pulse skips when I read the text.
Ava: I seem to always be impressed by you.
