Kit: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance

by Brenda Rothert

  Moving on sounds like such a responsible adult thing to do, no matter what you’re talking about. And I’m normally the ultimate example of responsible adulting, but I just can’t seem to move on from Kit.

  My heart still hurts just as much as it did when I left his apartment after the break-up. We’d hardly even gotten started when we said goodbye.

  There aren’t many people out walking tonight, mostly people taking their dogs for an evening walk. I left for work when it was still dark and now I’m walking home in the dark. My life is so exciting. I’m fine with that, though. Having work to focus on keeps me from focusing on what I could have had with Kit.

  As I approach Gram’s building, I notice someone sitting on the front steps. I can’t really see who it is and it’s unusual for someone to wait there.

  I’ve almost made it to the steps when the person looks up and our eyes meet.

  It’s Kit. My heart starts to beat faster as he stands up. He’s wearing jeans and the dark leather jacket I grabbed the sides of when he kissed me for the first time. He looks good. Great, really.

  “Hey,” he says, his breath creating a puff of cold air in front of him.

  “Hi.” I can barely get the word out.

  He’s here. Kit is right here. He came to see me. I put my hand on the stair railing to steady myself.

  “Can we talk?” he asks, his eyes determined under a vulnerable expression.

  “Sure. Do you want to come up?”

  He looks over at the building and says, “I was kind of hoping we could walk.”

  I want tell him I was a fool. He was right—by overthinking things, I pretty much stomped on a flower that was close to blooming. If I had just let things between us grow some more, everything would be different.

  “Okay,” I say instead. “Walking sounds good.”

  He turns in the opposite direction I came from, and I fall into step beside him.

  “How have you been?” he asks me.

  “Good,” I answer automatically. “You?”

  With a wry grin, he says, “Honestly, awful. I really miss you, Molly.”

  I cringe, wishing I wouldn’t have said I was good.

  “I miss you, too,” I say quickly. “I meant that I’m good in that I’m functioning and all, going to work, but yeah…it’s been tough. I was just thinking about you on my walk home.”

  “Thinking about what an asshole I was to you?”

  “No.”

  He glances down at me. “I was, Molly. And I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not proud of the way I treated you, either.”

  I look over at Kit and see the intent expression on his face. “There’s something I want to tell you,” he says. “It’s something I hoped I’d never have to tell a soul, but this afternoon I realized…I guess my perspective has been wrong for a long time.”

  “You sound apprehensive. Are you sure you want to tell me? Because I’ve been thinking a lot since that night, and I’ve realized I was overthinking things. We just started dating. Of course there are unanswered questions. That’s the way it’s supposed to work.”

  The corners of Kit’s lips turn up a bit. “There is no rulebook. If you were hiding something from me, I wouldn’t have liked it either.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going to put this out there. Not because I think it will fix everything, but because…I at least want you to understand.”

  “Okay.”

  We both smile at a couple passing with their dog, and then Kit exhales hard.

  “Here goes. I told you during our interviews that my dad owned a sporting goods store when I was growing up. It was pretty popular in Orville, our town. Dad had a business partner in the store, Jim. Sara and I rode the bus to the store after school let out instead of heading home when Mom and Lance were in Iowa City for his treatments.” He stops to take another big breath in and out. “Sara and I helped Dad with inventory and stocking shelves, but one day, Jim asked Dad if he could put me to work in the back office, making copies, stapling stuff together, that kind of stuff. Dad said that was fine, and…Jesus, I still remember it so clearly. The very first day, Jim had me alone in his office, and he…he touched me over the front of my pants. I was fucking mortified.”

  I stop walking and cover my face with my hands. I can’t even breathe. Kit doesn’t like being touched because he was sexually abused. I am the worst kind of human for demanding to know why he felt that way.

  “I’m so sorry,” I choke out.

  He shakes his head, not looking at me. “You don’t need to be, Molly.”

  “I never should have asked about it. And the things I assumed…God, I’m just so sorry.”

  Kit sighs softly. “Let me finish telling you about it.”

  I nod. He takes my hand and we both start walking again.

  “It kind of…escalated from there,” he says, keeping his gaze straight ahead. “Jim made me touch him and he’d put his hands down my pants every day I was in there. I dreaded going to the store after that first time. My grades started to slip at school and I was angry all the time. Jim threatened that if I said anything to anyone, he’d tell everyone I liked what he was doing—that I had asked him to do it. I was so…” His voice breaks and I squeeze his hand. “So afraid of that. I believed him. I felt like I didn’t have a choice.”

  “You were a child. He sounds like a disgusting excuse for a human.”

  Kit nods. “I see that now. But back then…I was terrified Sara or my dad would find out. I knew it was wrong. I knew Jim was wrong, even though I was so young. One day, when Mom and Lance were home during a break in his treatment, I asked my mom if I could ride to the store with her, and…I told her. I told her everything.”

  “That had to be so hard,” I say, my heart bursting with love for him.

  “Yeah, it was. But she’s my mom, and I thought…” His voice trails off. “Anyway, she told me it wouldn’t happen again and I needed to forget about it. Never think or speak of it again.”

  My mouth falls open in shock. “She told you what?”

  “She said my brother was fighting for his life and that was the most important thing right then. That if Jim got in trouble and couldn’t keep his stake in the store, my dad couldn’t afford to buy Jim out and operate the store on his own. And then we’d lose our health insurance, which Lance had to have.”

  “I don’t even…” I shake my head, devastated for the little boy Kit was.

  “I did what she told me to do,” he says. “I tried to, anyway. I never told a soul about it. Not until today, when I called Sara and told her. And now I’m telling you.”

  I let my tears fall. It all makes sense now. Why Kit doesn’t like going home to see his parents. Why it’s hard for him to have a relationship. And why he was so furious when I pushed him to talk to me that night.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say softly.

  “Don’t be. You weren’t wrong to wonder why I’m this way. I just…I wish I could put it behind me, but the thought of being touched, by anyone…I just can’t. I’m kind of…broken, I guess.”

  His voice is so raw. So pained. It hurts to know he feels this way about himself.

  “You aren’t broken, Kit,” I say fiercely. “I’d never want to do anything you didn’t want me to. And now that I understand…” I stop walking, taking a tissue out of my pocket to wipe my eyes. “No one has ever made me feel as right as you do. I have social anxiety and I worry I’ll disappoint everyone around me if I don’t give a hundred percent or more all the time. I take things too seriously. I’m awkward and particular about things. But you make me feel like all those things aren’t just okay, but…good.”

  Kit stops and turns to face me, taking my other hand in his.

  “Those things are part of who you are, Molly. And I love who you are.”

  Love. He just said he loves me. Even on this bleak Chicago night, everything suddenly looks brighter.

  “And what happened to you is part of who you are,” I say, my eyes filling back u
p with tears. “How it affected you, that’s part of you, too. And I love who you are with my entire heart and soul.”

  Kit breaks into a grin. “You do?”

  “I do. I’m miserable without you.”

  “Same here. I want to be with you, Molly. I want to make you happy. And I’m willing to try to do the things that are hard for me.”

  “No,” I say firmly, squeezing his hands. “This relationship will be come-as-you-are and be loved-as-you-are. I never want you to change because you think it’s what I want.”

  He releases my hands and cups my cheeks, kissing me, our cold noses brushing together.

  “Thank you for trusting me with this,” I say earnestly. “I wish I hadn’t pushed you so hard, but everything makes sense now.”

  “I think I needed the push. I’ve been thinking about it from the wrong perspective all these years, feeling ashamed and hoping no one ever found out.” He sighs softly. “I get it now, though. My mom is the one who should be ashamed.”

  “She never did anything?” I ask, incredulous.

  “She asked her best friend to take me and Sara after school instead of us going to the store, so Jim never touched me again. Her best friend’s husband was a youth hockey coach and he put me on his team and took me to practices. I think that’s part of why hockey means so much to me. It helped me when I needed it most, if that makes sense.”

  “It does. But no one ever went to the police about what Jim did?”

  Kit shakes his head, frowning. “My mom never told my dad or anyone else that I know of. We never talked about it again after that day in the car.”

  “And he stayed your dad’s business partner?”

  “Yeah, until he died. That happened when I was a senior in high school, and I was probably the only guy at the funeral who was fucking overjoyed. Sick bastard.”

  We start walking again, and Kit points to a little coffee shop on the next block.

  “Want to go in and warm up?” he asks.

  “Sure.”

  We’re sitting across from each other in the coffee shop a few minutes later, my hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate and his around a mug of decaf coffee, when Kit takes another deep inhale and slowly lets it out.

  “So…we’re back together?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  He smiles, but it fades away quickly.

  “I’m going to visit my parents the next time I have a break for a couple days. I need to tell my dad what happened and confront my mom about it.”

  “Will you tell your dad that your mom knew and did nothing?”

  He nods, looking somber. “I’m telling him everything. It’ll break his heart, but it’s the truth. And I want to look my mom in the eyes and tell her…” He clears his throat, tears shining in his eyes. “How badly she let me down. She was supposed to protect me. What Jim did was fucking terrible, but my mom telling me to just let it go…I’m just now realizing that’s what hurt the worst.”

  I reach across the table and take his hand. “I’m proud of you. You should be proud of yourself, too.”

  He gives me a small smile and says, “Thanks. I’ve still got a lot of work to do on myself, but I feel ready to start. I think maybe there are a lot of good things in store for me, for us.”

  I can’t keep the goofy grin from my face as I say, “I think so, too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Kit

  Two weeks later

  “Durand is more famous than our whole team put together,” Jonah says with a laugh as we leave our Saturday afternoon team meeting.

  “Did I tell you about Thursday?” I ask.

  “No.”

  Just thinking about it makes me bust out laughing. Olivier Durand had no idea what he was in store for when he saved that woman from her burning car. Local and national media have become obsessed with the two of them, because they’re both single and social media users have collectively decided they need to get married and have babies. Every photographer in town is trying to get a photo of them together, or of Durand buying something that could be for her, or of Durand just getting into a car, because he could be going to see her.

  “The photographers are hounding him, you know that already,” I say. “I was getting dressed after practice Thursday and when I came out into the hallway, Durand was standing there. He asked if I’d loan him a hat and sweater of mine and come pick him up at the delivery entrance so he could shake his following.”

  “No fucking way,” Jonah says.

  “Yeah.”

  “So you did it?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t have anything but my game sweater in my locker, so I gave him the hoodie and the scarf I had, and he sent someone to snag him a hat from the gift shop. I drove to the delivery entrance and he comes walking out carrying a huge box that he could hide his face behind. He asked me to drive him to a hotel because the gossip rag photogs are stalking him at home, too. I took him to my place, though.”

  “Ass kisser.” Jonah grins.

  “I feel bad for the guy. He can’t even take a shit without a photographer waiting outside the bathroom for him.”

  Looking at his phone, Jonah says, “Dude needs to head overseas to one of his palaces for a couple months ‘til things die down.”

  “He’s probably got work to do.”

  “He’s a billionaire. He can hire people to do anything he wants.” Jonah looks up from his screen. “Rey says they got us a table at the Italian place by Lucky’s.”

  “Good, I’m starving.”

  I check my phone to make sure everything’s in place for the surprise I have planned for Molly. Once I’m satisfied, I drive Jonah to the restaurant, where Molly and Rey are sitting on opposite sides of a booth, both laughing. It makes me so damn happy to see Molly having fun with my teammate’s girlfriend.

  Since we got back together a couple weeks ago, we’ve been inseparable. I meet her for lunch on days I’m home and don’t have games. She’s been coming to my home games and sitting with Rey in the friends and family suite. And when I’m on the road for away games, we text every night. She sends me pictures of her snuggled up in bed with Mr. Darcy.

  I love that dog. He lives for food, belly rubs and sweet talk from Molly. When she tells him he’s the best boy in the world, he gazes at her adoringly, never getting enough.

  I’ve also grown really fond of Gram. I took Molly, Gram and Sara out for dinner one night last week at a swanky new Asian fusion place downtown and we laughed nonstop. Gram proclaimed the cost of martinis at the restaurant as “completely outrageous,” but she got over it real quick after drinking a couple of them. And next week, she’s coming to one of my games with Molly. I got her a sweater with my name on the back to wear.

  “Hey, you’re here,” Molly says as we approach the table.

  I slide in beside her and give her a light kiss, the taste of sweet tea on her lips.

  “How was the team meeting?” Rey asks Jonah.

  He shrugs. “I was voted most badass team member once again.”

  “You wish,” I say, shaking my head.

  There’s a new guy on our team—a backup goalie named Matt Katz. He’s been running his mouth about how shitty Chicago is and how underpaid he is. Anton called the team meeting so he could let Katz know in front of everyone that he needs to shut up and play if he wants to stay.

  With his reputation as a whiner, Katz was lucky the Blaze picked him up. Knox pointed that out at the meeting, too. Katz most likely hates us all now, but as long as he shuts the fuck up, no one cares.

  “We ordered a couple appetizers,” Molly says.

  I put an arm around her and open the menu, scanning it. “I need some pasta. And meat.”

  After I decide what to order, I pull Molly a little closer and kiss her temple.

  “What have you been up to since you went home this morning?” I ask her.

  She stayed the night at my place last night, but said she had to go home to get stuff done earlier. I quit trying to lure
her into staying when she promised to stay again tonight.

  “I went to the laundromat, took Gram to get groceries and took Mr. Darcy on a walk to the doggie bakery.”

  “Did you get him everything he wanted?”

  She laughs. “He got a few things. He’d eat everything in the place if he could.”

  “You have a dog?” Rey says, lighting up. “Can I see a picture?”

  Molly shows Rey and Jonah a few photos of Mr. Darcy and they both melt.

  “Handsome guy, right?” I say.

  “He is,” Jonah agrees. “That looks like a dog who would appreciate a good glass of bourbon and a cigar.”

  “He’d eat the cigar,” Molly says.

  “I want to get a dog so bad,” Rey says, “but we’re talking about moving in together and we both work so much we wouldn’t have much time to spend with a dog, and that doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Moving in together?” I arch my brows and give Jonah a look of approval.

  “I’m expecting a home cooked meal on the table every night,” he says.

  Rey laughs loudly at that, and Molly joins her.

  “Expect all you want. It’s never happening, babe,” Rey says.

  Jonah winks at her and grins. It’s good to see my buddy happy with someone. His first wife Lily’s death was hard on him, and there were times I wondered if he’d ever be the same again. And now, I’m not sure he is the same. Lily’s death changed him, but in time he found a way to keep living without her.

  We order lunch and eat, and Molly never gives me the signal we worked out for times she’s feeling anxious in social situations and needs to get out—telling me she’s cold. I hope that means she’s enjoying herself, and I ask her about it as we’re walking out to my car.

  “You and Rey get along well, did you have a good time?”

  “I did,” she says, smiling. “I really like her.”

  “We should plan a trip with them sometime.”

  Molly’s eyes widen. “That’s a lot of socializing. Let’s start small, with a trip for just the two of us.”