TWO YEARS LATER
“That’s the last of it.” Ava wipes her hands on her Seattle Seal sweatpants as she sets the last of the food down on the glistening marble countertops in our newly purchased home.
“Are you planning on feeding an entire city, my love?” I tease, flicking my eyes over the hefty array of food spread across the kitchen.
“Seems like it, doesn’t it? It’s been too long since we’ve had everyone together.”
Three months, to be exact. Not since the weekend before the season started. September marked our first hockey season living together, and it’s already ten times better than being apart.
The past two years have been a bitch. Between flying to games and then back to BC to see my family, it was a lot. The airport was practically my second—third—home, if you count my old apartment in Seattle. And all the late-night calls made Skype my best friend.
Being in Seattle alone quickly became a gigantic pain in my ass. Of course, that doesn’t mean it was all negative. I’m living my dream. I was just living it without my other half.
“I still can’t believe this is ours. I don’t even know what to do with all this space,” Ava murmurs.
I walk up behind her and link my fingers around her middle. “Believe it, sweetheart. It’s ours for as long as you want it.”
She stares out the window above the sink at the big backyard and snow-covered patio. We’re a bit of a drive away from town, which gives us the quiet we both need. I push her shirt down her shoulder and kiss the warm skin I reveal.
When Ava graduated this past school year, I did everything in my power to convince her to move to Seattle. I had been living in the same two-bedroom apartment since shortly after I was drafted, and with a new contract with the Seals looming in the distance, it was only a matter of time before a decision needed to be made.
I quickly adapted to my new team. Although it was a lot more difficult adjusting to the higher level of hockey than I would like to admit, I am proud to say that I am doing exceptionally well now. I guess that’s the main reason why I don’t want to sign with any other team. I’ve grown to love it here.
I won’t lie and say the move to a new country, let alone one where she’s still waiting for permission to work, was easy on her. She had to figure out how to say goodbye to her family and friends and her job at the youth home which she’d grown to love. I know leaving everything behind was hard on her. Hell, it was torture for me to leave too. It still is torture to be away from my family—even if we’re only a few hours away—but the spam of texts I receive each day from my mother helps put my mind at ease.
“Shoot! It’s almost seven. I can’t let them see me like this!” Ava shrieks. She pecks my lips and bolts upstairs to get ready. I shake my head, a ghost of a smile on my lips.
She still has no idea how breathtaking she is.
It’s been an intense, busy few months, but our housewarming party is finally here, and the house looks amazing.
The doorbell rings a few minutes later, and I hear Ava swear from our bedroom something about not being ready yet as I make my way to the front door.
Peeling it open, the cold nips at my sock-covered feet. It snowed last night but melted pretty quickly this morning, leaving the sidewalk wet as Adam, Tyler, and Gracie make their way up to the house, bags in tow.
Adam has stuck himself between the other two, his arms thrown over their shoulders. He’s laughing about something, and the sound is so damn contagious that I laugh along with him, even without knowing what’s so damn funny.
“Oakley, we’re home, dear,” he sings loudly.
Tyler scowls at his friend, and Gracie giggles.
“Is he drunk?” I ask.
Gracie snorts a laugh. “Nope. That’s just Adam.”
“He’s been like this since we got off the plane. Fucking annoying,” Tyler grunts and adjusts the two bags in his right hand.
Adam tries to kiss him on the cheek, but he rips his arm off his shoulder and flips him the finger. “Denial has never hurt so bad.”
“Right,” I chortle. Gracie wiggles out of his grasp when they reach the doorway, and the two guys bust their way inside, leaving her trailing behind. “I missed you, Gray. Hug me before Ava comes and takes you.”
“I missed you too,” she says softly, stepping into my open arms.
Kissing the top of her head, I give her a squeeze before stepping back. “Flight was good? Those two assholes didn’t give you too much grief, did they?”
“Yeah, right.”
“Good. Where’s your bag?” I ask, noticing she didn’t carry one in. Her cheeks flush, and I don’t miss the way her eyes track Tyler, as if they have a mind of their own. I scowl. “Right.”
Recovering, she blinks a few too many times. “It was too heavy for me. You know how much I love to overpack.”
Memories of our trip to Mexico last year come trickling in, and I nod. “You made me pay for an extra carry-on when your suitcase was already far too heavy.”
“I’m merely a dance teacher, Lee. But it was so very generous of you to pick up the bill.” She smiles slyly.
“You’re a little shit, Gray.”
“And proud of it.” She curtsies before walking off, leaving me by the open door.
I close it and join the others in the living room just as Ava comes rushing downstairs. She’s switched into a pair of skinny jeans and a loose tank top, opting to leave her hair down, curls hanging off her shoulder. It’s a challenge in self-control when I don’t immediately reach out and grab her, wanting her by my side.
“Look at you all!” she squeals, throwing herself into Adam’s arms. Luckily, he was ready for it and catches her easily. “You have a beard!” As soon as they part, she’s pulling at the short hairs that have grown out along his jawline.
He swats at her hand. “Don’t pull at them, O. Ow.”
“Sorry. It’s just different seeing you all rugged like,” she defends.
“Took a few tips from Oakley. Mountain man over here can grow a beard like no other.”
“You’re starting to sound like a fan, Adam.” Tyler laughs gruffly. “Wanna ask for an autograph while we’re all here?”
“Don’t be a hater because you can’t grow a beard,” Adam refutes.
Ava claps her hands together to gather everyone’s attention. “Children, children, let’s not fight before dinner. Now, come eat before everything gets cold and tastes like ass.”
“Great. I’m starving.” Adam pats his stomach and groans.
“You ate at McDonald’s on the way here.” Tyler rolls his eyes.
“And? Little H wanted chicken nuggets, so I obliged. It’s not my fault you’re not allowed Micky D’s.”
I clap my hand hard across Adam’s back. He winces as I say, “Stop talking about food unless it’s the stuff in my kitchen. Ava spent way too long getting this shit ready for you.”
He nods. “Right.”
One by one, we all file into the open-concept, brightly lit kitchen. The dining table is on the far end of the room, decked out with fancy placemats and silverware. Ava went all in for this dinner, and I will drag anyone out in the snow who doesn’t scarf down as much as they can possibly take to make her feel good.
“Smells damn good, O,” Adam notes, eyeing me warily. I nod at him in approval. Sucker.
“Thank you, A. You know, the last time we all had dinner together was in Mexico? I say this is long overdue.”
Tyler leans against the counter and toys with the handle of a serving fork Ava has stuck in the giant ham waiting to be brought to the table. I grab the heavy silver platter and bring it over to the table, glancing at Tyler as I pass him.
I would have missed the tensing of his muscles had I not been watching him so closely. Suspicion scratches at me, just like it has been since that damn trip.
Once I’ve set down the ham, I start to bring everything else over to the table. Gracie picks up the bottles of wine I picked up earlier and follows behind me.
“Hey, you’re not allowed to drink in the States yet, Gracie. Maybe you should let someone else carry that.” Adam stifles a laugh.
My sister pins him in place with a nasty glare. “Keep picking on me and I might just shove one of these up your a—”
“Okaaay,” Ava sings, humour thick in her voice. “Everyone, sit down and stop picking on each other. Gracie can drink in this house because she’s nineteen and I said she can. Lord knows she’s been drinking since she was sixteen.”
“She has?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at Gracie.
She only waves me off and flops down in the seat beside Tyler. He turns to a statue, his eyes wide, but she doesn’t care. It looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel when she reaches across his lap to grab a scoop of pasta salad from the other side of the table, completely unbothered.
“Earlier than that. You might have forgotten since you moved here, but we’re Canadian. We’re bred different,” she says casually, dropping the salad on her plate.
“Fourteen for me,” Adam pipes in, sitting across from Gray. I glare at him, and he laughs. “Right. That was very irresponsible, Gracie. You know the legal age in BC is nineteen.”
“Oh, that’s right. My bad. Please forgive me.” She giggles, and I watch through curious eyes as Tyler starts to fill her plate for her each time he grabs something for himself. It looks like a subconscious effort, and I find a lump building in my throat before I tear my eyes away.
I’m not going there today. It took me months to ditch the suspicions that had grown after spending a week in Mexico watching something unfurling between those two, and I don’t want to go there again.
Ava sits on one end of the table, and I finally sit across from her. Our eyes meet, and she smiles at me softly, telling me just how happy she is in this moment without having to speak the words.
Suddenly, the ring in my pocket—the same one I’ve been carrying around with me for the better part of a year—feels heavier, harder to ignore. But just like I always do, I remind myself that if it were the right time, I would know it.
So for now, I wait. I wait and focus on how happy we are and how perfect our lives are. How goddamn lucky I am. And as I look around the table, at our unconventional family, I feel completely at peace.
