"Day-glo!" Jason waved a hand in front of him, making him jerk back. "Christ, man, what is your fucking problem? Stop zoning out."
"How are we just now hearing about this kid of yours?"
Harland turned to Zach then looked away and shrugged, embarrassed. And he suddenly wished he was anywhere but here. He didn't want to be sitting at a bar, talking to his teammates about personal stuff—not when he was still trying to come to terms with all of it himself.
He snagged the mug from Jason's hand and took a long swallow. "I just found out."
"What? No fucking way."
"Yeah."
"So what do you do now?"
"Whoa, back up." Zach leaned toward them, interrupting Jason with a quick slash of his hand. His brows lowered over dark eyes. "You're telling me you just found out about this kid? And you're totally cool with it? Are you even sure it's yours?"
"He. Not it. And yeah, I'm sure he's mine."
"How can you be sure? I hope to hell you're not just taking some bunny's word—"
Harland leaned forward so fast that Zach actually jumped back. He didn't hide the anger flashing in his eyes when he spoke. "She's not a bunny so shut the fuck up. Noah's mine. No doubt about it."
"Okay, whatever. Calm the fuck down. I didn't mean anything by it. I just want to make sure your back is covered, that's all. I mean, three fucking years is a long time not to know about a kid, you know?"
Yeah—except he had known, because Courtney had told him. He had just refused to believe her, had chosen to believe his old man instead. Yeah, because his old man had always had his best interests at heart, right?
Jason propped his elbow on the edge of the bar and stared at him. "So answer the question. What do you do now?"
"What do you mean, what do I do now? Noah's my son. I'm his father. I just…act like his father, you know?"
"You think it's that simple?"
"Why wouldn't it be?"
"Come on, Day-glo, you can't be that fucking stupid. Or naive. There's a hell of a lot more to it than that. You have to…well, there's things you need to do. And stuff. Right?"
"Well, yeah. I guess." Harland frowned. Jason had a point, which was scary in itself. There were things he had to do—he just wasn't sure what. All he'd been focused on was getting himself listed as Noah's father on the birth certificate. That had been important, for reasons he didn't want to examine too closely. He hadn't thought much past that, other than to make sure he got to spend time with Noah.
"There's school. And college—"
"He's not even three yet."
"You still have to plan ahead. And babysitting and making sure he eats the right things and stays out of trouble when he gets older."
Zach nodded. "Plus you have to decide when you're going to start teaching him to play. The earlier you get him on the ice, the better he'll be."
"Guys, I don't think—" Harland clamped his mouth shut. He'd been ready to tell them Noah was deaf, that he probably wouldn't be playing any sports, but he couldn't. He didn't want to tell them that—and he didn't understand why. He wasn't ashamed, wasn't embarrassed. At least, he didn't think he was. He had tried to keep his worries, his own questions and doubts about Noah's deafness, to himself. Tried to keep them buried so he didn't have to think about them, didn't have to face the fear that maybe he was the cause. Because he couldn't bear that.
And he wasn't ready to share that much about his son anyway. Not that it mattered, because neither Jason nor Zach were paying him any attention.
"Kids his age walk, right?"
"Yeah, of course they do."
Zach seemed relieved by the answer. "Cool. Then you can start getting him on the ice now."
"I don't think—"
"Zach's right. And I know the perfect time: in a few weeks for that family picnic team bonding shit Coach is forcing on us."
"Guys, I don't—"
"That's a perfect idea. That way we can meet the kid, too." Zach downed his beer then slid off the stool, his gaze already focused on the trio of girls at one of the corner tables. "Enough of the adulting. It's time to have some fun. You guys coming?"
"I'm passing."
"Christ. You have a kid and already you're acting like a fucking stick in the mud. You're not married, Day-glo. No responsibilities, no obligations. Right? No need to take yourself out of the game."
Harland refused to answer the silent question in Zach's intense gaze. How could he, when he didn't know the answer? No, there was no commitment between him and Courtney, hadn't been for a long time.
But he wanted there to be.
The realization slammed into him. Holy fuck. Where the hell had that thought even come from? From nowhere, that's where it had come from. But had it really? Or was it something that had been there, hidden in a secret corner of his heart since he had learned the truth about Noah? Or had it been there before then? Why else would he have kept driving by Courtney's house these last few months?
No. No, it was crazy. Insane. Nothing more than the beer going to his head.
"Man, you really are pathetic." Zach shook his head then walked away, calling out to the giggling group of girls staring at him.
"What did he mean by that?"
Jason shrugged and pulled out his wallet. "Got me. Might have something to do with that stupid fucking look on your face.
"What look?"
"Nothing. Forget it." He slid off his own stool then called over to the girl behind the bar. "Hey, sweetheart. The check?"
Harland frowned and looked away from Jason, trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about. His gaze landed on the girl, saw the way she fumbled with the check, the way she nearly stumbled in her haste to bring it over.
A shy smile teased the corners of her mouth as she pushed the check toward Jason. Long dull brown hair, straight and lifeless, fell into her face, practically hiding all of her features. But it wasn't enough to hide the crimson flush spreading across her cheeks when Jason grabbed the check, his fingers brushing hers.
He glanced down at it, yanked a few bills from the wallet, then tossed everything down on the bar without even looking at the girl. Disappointment filled her face as she collected the money—and just stood there.
Harland thought about hitting Jason, thought about nudging him or saying something to get him to at least look at the girl. Or to say thank you or whatever because it was obvious she had a crush on him. He changed his mind. Jason would be oblivious at best. At worst, he'd make a joke of it and end up hurting the girl's feelings, even if he didn't mean to. And she wasn't his type, not even close to being his type. Not just in the looks department—he was pretty certain this girl lacked the biggest thing that attracted Jason: a desire to be nothing more than a fun one-night stand.
Jason shoved the wallet back into his pocket then clapped Harland on the back. "You have fun doing that whole grown-up thing. I've got better things to do."
"Yeah. Whatever." Harland didn't bother watching Jason walk away—he was too busy watching the girl, seeing the way she stared after his teammate. Maybe it was the wistful expression on her flushed face, or maybe it was just his own sudden revelation—and the realization that it was nothing more than a hopeless fantasy. Whatever the reason, he felt a sudden kinship with the girl. Two lost people reaching for something they could never have.
He leaned forward, caught her attention and offered her a gentle smile. "You deserve better, kiddo. He's not worth the heartache."
Harland ignored the shocked expression she turned on him and slid off the stool. The advice he gave her echoed in his ears as he walked out.
Not worth the heartache.
Why had he chosen those words? Why not headache? Or trouble? Or a dozen other different words? Why heartache?
You deserve better. He's not worth the heartache.
A chill went through him as he climbed into the SUV and started the engine. The advice he had just given the poor girl was the exact same advice someone could give to Courtne
y—for the same exact reasons.
No, for even more reasons. Better reasons.
Now it was his job to prove the advice wrong. To prove to Courtney that he was worth it.
That they were worth it.
Chapter Fifteen
Courtney ran a comb through the girl's wet hair then pulled a few strands through her fingers, eyeing the length. She made a few quick snips with her scissors and released the strands, then repeated the process.
The motions were smooth, almost hypnotic. Therapeutic, even.
"So what are you going to do?"
Courtney leaned across the girl—she thought her name was Shannon—and grabbed another pair of scissors from her work tray. "I have no idea."
"Well, I think you should go." Beth met her eyes in the large mirror and winked, then used her scissors to even the length of her own client's hair. "It'll be fun. Lord knows, you deserve to have some fun."
"My idea of fun is not being forced to spend time with a bunch of people I don't know. People I don't want to know and that I'll never see again."
"Well, you're going. That's all there is to it." Beth paused, shot her another meaningful look in the mirror. "Because Noah needs to go."
Leave it to Beth to get right to the point and throw that out there. Courtney wanted to disagree with her. Noah didn't need to go. In fact, Noah was the main reason she didn't want to go. She was afraid it would be too much for him. Too overwhelming, too hectic, just…too much, period.
Harland didn't see it that way.
He didn't see anything wrong with throwing Noah into the midst of a bunch of strangers. Add in the fact that the strangers—and everyone else—would be on skates…on the ice…skating…it was a bad idea. Period. Only Courtney seemed to be the only person who thought so. Even her mother thought it was a good idea, a chance for Noah to spend more time with his father. Of course, her mother also thought it was a good idea because that meant Courtney would be spending more time with Harland.
No, she hadn't said as much. At least, not in plain old English. But she knew her mother was hoping that this would somehow get Courtney and Harland back together. Her mother was still convinced—even after everything that happened—that they belonged together. That they were meant to be together.
Nothing was further from the truth. Courtney had no intention of ever getting back with Harland. Of even thinking of getting back with him. There was too much history. Too much pain—and absolutely no trust.
So what if he'd kissed her? It was a kiss, nothing more. It wouldn't happen again, even if she couldn't stop thinking about it.
Thinking about why it happened.
"Ow." The girl in her chair grimaced and moved her head.
"Oh. Sorry." Courtney gentled her hold on the girl's hair and forced herself to relax—and to stop thinking of Harland and any ulterior motives he might have.
"You're going. No more discussion so you might as well just resign yourself to it."
"Beth, I don't think—"
"Well I think she's right." Shannon's bright eyes caught hers in the mirror. "I think it's so romantic. You just have to go."
Courtney paused with the scissors mid-air. "Romantic?"
"Totally. Your long-lost love comes back after being gone for so long and discovers he's the father of your son? And now he's obviously trying to make up for it. Too woo you back and prove his worth." The girl sighed, a dreamy glow in her eyes.
Courtney blinked. Long-lost love? Prove his worth? What fantasy world was the poor girl living in? She wanted to tell the girl there was so much more to it than that. Wanted to tell her it was too late.
Where had Harland been during the long months of pregnancy, when she could barely keep food in her stomach? Later, when she couldn't even bend over to tie her own shoes and then had to be confined to bed because of the complications? Where was he during the agonizing forty-two hours of labor, when she wanted nothing more than to die if that meant making the pain stop?
And later, during the first few months of Noah's life, when he'd been sick? When she knew something wasn't right and the doctors kept brushing off her concerns as nothing more than the hysterics of a young single mother. Or when she learned that he was deaf, that her precious son would never hear the sound of her voice. Running back and forth to doctor after doctor, clinic after clinic, office after office. Hoping. Always hoping…and learning that her hopes were nothing more than wispy dreams, carried off by the harsh wind of reality.
Harland had been there for none of that. And yet this girl could sit there and tell her it was romantic? Like taking Noah to a team picnic—and forcing her to go at the same time because there was no way she'd allow Harland to take Noah without her—somehow made up for everything else?
She opened her mouth to say that, to let the girl in on some harsh life lessons. Beth caught her attention in the mirror, frowned and shook her head. The words died in Courtney's mouth, leaving bitterness in their wake.
The two younger girls continued to talk, spinning wild fantasies of romance and lost love. Of second chances and happy-ever-after. By the time Courtney finished the girl's hair, a headache throbbed at the back of her skull and her jaw ached from clenching it so tightly.
Beth locked the doors and closed up the register, taking a few minutes to make sure the front area of the salon was neat and tidy. She came back and leaned against her work station, folding her arms under her ample chest. "You can relax now, everyone's gone."
"What makes you think I'm not relaxed?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe that muscle jumping in your jaw. Or the way you're about to break the broom handle from holding it so tight."
Courtney shot her a dirty look then continued sweeping up the remnants of hair. She scooped everything into the long-handled dustpan then walked to the back room. Beth followed her.
"So what's the real reason you don't want to go?"
Courtney emptied the dustpan then put it and the broom away. She could feel Beth's gaze on her the entire time, knew her friend would just keep staring at her until she finally answered.
"Because I don't understand what Harland's doing. I don't understand what his reasons are."
"Maybe he's just trying to be a dad?" Beth didn't do a very good job of keeping the doubt from her voice.
"I doubt it. I mean, I haven't seen him in three years, and we didn't part on very good terms. Now, all of a sudden, he's back and thinks he can just step in as a dad? It doesn't work that way."
"Maybe that's the only way he knows. I mean, to get involved in Noah's life, you know? I'd have to give him points for trying."
"That's just it, though. Normal people don't just show up and pretend things didn't happen. I mean, he comes by the house almost every evening now and he just acts like—like everything is so damn normal. Like we're just one big happy family and everything that happened in the past doesn't matter."
Beth moved to the small refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water. She tossed one to Courtney then uncapped the other, her face scrunched in thought. "Maybe that's his way of dealing with it. Maybe he just wants to try for normal. People can only go by what they know. Is that what his parents do? Just act like everything is normal?"
Courtney's hand tightened around the plastic bottle so hard she was surprised the lid didn't shoot off. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax, forced the memories and the hatred away. "His mother walked out on him when he was five. And his father is a lying, meddling bastard."
"Okay then. So there's some unresolved issues there."
"You think?"
"Are you going to share exactly what happened?"
"Not anytime soon."
"Fair enough. I won't push." Beth took a sip of water then grinned. "Yet. At least, not much."
"Don't even try. I'm serious, Beth. It's not something I'm going to talk about so don't even go there."
Beth watched her for a long minute, studying her, trying to see behind the barriers Courtney had built. She
must have realized it wasn't going to work because she uttered a small grunt and nodded. "Okay, I won't push. But maybe that's why he's doing what he's doing. Maybe that's the only way he knows how to try."
"But try what? That's what I don't understand."
"Be the kind of father he never had?"
"And what happens when the novelty wears off? What happens when he realizes there's more to being a dad than just stopping in and…and playing games and bringing toys and peeing standing up?"
"Uh…what was that last one?"
"Nothing. It doesn't matter." Courtney pulled out one of the small chairs and fell into it. "What am I supposed to do when he changes his mind? Or when he decides hooking up with some bimbo is more important than spending time with Noah? When he just decides it isn't worth his trouble anymore and he disappears?"
"Is that what happened before?"
"What?"
Beth sat in the chair next to her then leaned forward and placed her hand on Courtney's. "Was he seeing someone else when you guys were together? Is that why you stopped seeing each other?"
"No. No, that wasn't why." Courtney shook her head to emphasize her answer. That much she knew was true. Harland had never even looked at another girl the entire time they were together. But afterwards? Well, if even half the stories she had seen and heard were true, he'd definitely made up for it.
"You never really told me what happened with you guys."
"Yeah, well. I'm not going to start now. It's complicated. And it's in the past."
"You don't sound too sure about that." Beth watched her for a few seconds, no doubt hoping that Courtney would change her mind and share some details. She must have realized that wasn't going to happen because she sighed and sat back in her chair. "I don't know what to tell you, Courtney. I mean, for right now, at least, it looks like he's trying. I don't see how you can stop him from doing that at least."
"I know. I'm afraid if I do, he'll see his attorney and try something else."
"You mean like custody or something?"
"I don't know. He didn't come right out and say it but he was pretty adamant about making sure he I gave him time to spend with Noah. And since we were at his attorney's office getting the paperwork for the birth certificate straightened out…" Courtney finished the sentence with a tight shrug. She didn't know if it had been a threat on Harland's part or not but she couldn't take the chance that it wasn't, not when she couldn't afford to fight him on it.
[York Bombers 01.0] Playing the Game Page 10
