And I hope Heather likes Everly. Owen too.
“Okay, the zoo closes at five today, so we’ll be back around then.”
Heather nods. “Sounds good. Have fun!” She hugs Owen, who then hurtles down the sidewalk toward my SUV.
Owen chatters about the animals he wants to see at the zoo, entertaining us. At least, Everly seems entertained, laughing and asking Owen questions with what seems like genuine interest.
We approach the entrance, Owen skipping along.
Everly points to the condors’ rescue zone. “Look. They rescue hockey players like Wyatt.”
Owen giggles. “That’s not rescuing hockey players!” he tells Everly. “Condors are real birds. They used to be exkinked.”
“Ah.” She nods.
I pay our admissions and we head in through the gates. It’s a sunny day, nice and warm, and we get him sunscreened up and a hat on his head before we move too far.
I hold up the sunscreen bottle to Everly. “Need some?”
“I’m okay. I put on sunscreen at home.” She slides her big sunglasses onto her nose.
Owen’s enthusiasm always makes the zoo fun, and Everly seems to feel it too. He doesn’t like to spend too long at each exhibit, dashing on to the next one. We pause to watch keepers feeding Tasmanian devils, which fascinates Owen.
“They’re really aggressive,” I comment as they attack some kind of small animal and make scary noises.
“They’re going crazy!” Owen says, wide-eyed.
“They look like Wyatt when he gets a steak,” Everly says to Owen and he laughs.
I shoot her an amused glance. “Ha.” I nudge Owen. “They have no table manners.”
He laughs again.
After that, we move on. “I wanna see the grillas!” Owen says. “I like grillas.”
We stop for a late lunch of tacos, and a bathroom break, then wander on. Owen’s pace is slowing, so I carry him on my shoulders for a while.
“I learned about giraffes at school,” Owen tells us when we arrive there. “Their tongues are this long!” He holds his arms wide. “And their tongue is black!”
“Wow.” Everly looks impressed.
“Also, giraffes only sleep a little bit. And they sleep standing up because if they lay down they might be attacked.”
“He’s smart,” Everly murmurs to me.
I squeeze her hand. “Yep.”
“Can we feed them? Please?”
“Sure, buddy.” It costs extra, but only a few bucks. And it’s a cool experience.
When we’re done there, we move on.
“Look, Everly!” Owen tugs her other hand. “Monkeys!”
“Chimpanzees,” I correct him.
“Right. They’re funny!”
“They are,” Everly agrees. “Oh my gosh! What’s happening?”
A fight has broken out. One chimp is chasing another with a stick and screaming.
“Looks like a hockey game!” Everly says, cracking Owen up again. Okay, and me.
Everyone around is laughing at the animals and the show they’re putting on. One chimp stops and beats his chest. Owen dies laughing.
We take one more rest and buy some ice cream before heading out to get a tired boy home. He falls asleep in the backseat.
“He’s adorable,” Everly says quietly. “He really loves you.”
I smile. “I think he’s in love with you, actually. He wouldn’t let go of your hand.”
She laughs softly.
I wake up Owen when we’re at his place. “I was just resting my eyes,” he says, rubbing them.
“That’s good, buddy.”
Heather greets us with big smiles for Owen and more reserved smiles for Everly and me. Often Heather asks me to stay for dinner after I’ve taken Owen out, but she doesn’t today, so I hug my little guy. He wants to hug Everly too, and she kneels down to give him a squeeze. “I had fun,” she tells him. “You taught me a lot about animals.”
“Everly is funny,” Owen tells his mom.
“It was lovely to meet you both,” Everly says, standing and facing Heather. “He’s a great kid.”
“Thanks.” Heather’s smile is tight.
“He’s so smart. He knew how long a giraffe’s tongue is.” She grins. “And elephants are the only animals that can’t jump. I love his curiosity.”
Heather’s pride shines on her face. “He is very smart.”
“See you soon, Heath.” I set my hand on the small of Everly’s back to usher her out of the house. We wave goodbye and leave.
Everly is quiet in the vehicle.
I glance at her as I drive. “Tired?”
“Yeah. All that fresh air and sunshine.” She smiles. “I could fall asleep like Owen.” She pauses. “Are you and Heather really just friends?”
“Yes.” I hesitate, then ask, “Why?”
“She didn’t seem very happy to meet me.”
“Sure she did.”
Her smile is skeptical. “Well, maybe I’m wrong. Just a feeling I got. Thanks for bringing me along, it was fun.”
Everly
I’m a mess.
I think I’m falling in love.
The last time I thought I was in love with someone, it turned into an epic disaster. It terrifies me. Excites me. Makes me want things I’m not sure I can ever have.
Because, like the last time, I’m falling for the wrong guy.
Ever since Wyatt took me to the zoo, I’ve been messed up. Seeing him with Owen made my heart swell up huge in my chest. He loves that boy. His best friend’s son.
His best friend died, and he can’t talk about it. That makes my swollen heart ache for him.
The fact that he trusts me enough to tell me about Heather and Owen makes my feelings for him expand. But he’s not telling me everything, and I wish he would.
I’m seeing past the front he puts on for everyone—the jokester, the partier. He’s the honey badger of the hockey world—he just doesn’t give a shit.
Except he does.
I’ve seen how much he cares about his friends. I’ve now seen how much he cares about Owen and Heather. Clearly he cared about his dead friend.
Maybe…he even cares about me. A little. He does things for me, like bring me coffee, and clean my kitchen. When we’re in bed (or the shower) he’s thoughtful and generous and focused on giving me what I need.
But thinking thoughts like that will get me in trouble. He doesn’t care about his reputation. He thinks life is a big party. Well, okay, knowing that his friend died so young, I get that now. But still, life is about goals and accomplishments and making people proud of you.
I miss him.
How pathetic.
We saw each other a bunch of times during the All Star break, and now the team is off on a road trip to Toronto, Montreal, and Ottawa. They’ll be back tomorrow, Friday, and it’s crazy that I can’t wait to see him.
I have lots to keep me busy at work, meetings with stakeholders, proposals to review, reports to write, so I’m putting in some long hours. I do go to yoga class on Wednesday night because I know yoga’s good for me. And I’ve set up our next family meeting to discuss progress on ending the stupid family feud. Tonight I’m going out with Lacey. I need to talk to someone.
Wyatt texts me a few times while he’s away, so I know he’s thinking about me too. His parents flew to Montreal for the game there, and he’s clearly happy to spend some time with them. I’m trying to keep things casual and breezy, though, sending him funny GIFs and memes instead of sad face emojis and telling him how much I miss him.
I meet Lacey at Food for Thought again, one of our favorite places.
“I need a big glass of wine,” I announce, picking up the menu.
“Uh-oh. Bad day at the
office?”
“Nah, just busy. I’m kind of stressed about something else, though.”
“Wyatt?”
My head snaps up. “Why do you say that?”
She smiles. “Wild guess.”
I choose a Sauvignon Blanc and she orders the same.
“Okay, what’s up?” She eyes me expectantly. “Why are you stressed?”
“I have a little problem.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“I think I’m falling for him.”
“Is he why you bailed on yoga class Saturday? Taylor told me.”
“Yeah. He asked me to go to the zoo with him.”
“Aw. So why is this such a problem?” Her forehead furrows. “He doesn’t feel the same?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t had that conversation yet, and I don’t know if we should. I mean, I think he likes me. We didn’t have to keep seeing each other once we’d done our duty for the team.” I roll my eyes. “But…” I drop my eyes to my hands on the table. “There’s something I’ve never told you about.”
I don’t speak for so long, she asks dryly, “Are you going to tell me now? Or you just wanted to let me know you have a secret…”
I give a short laugh. “I’ll tell you some of it.” I sit back so the waiter can place my wineglass in front of me. I reach for it and take a gulp. “Lovely,” I say, though I barely tasted it.
Lacey snorts.
“Okay. When I was sixteen, I got involved with a…a man.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “A man?”
“Yes.” I clear my throat. “He played for the Condors.”
“You were sixteen?”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “I know. I was a crazy teenager.”
“I have a hard time picturing that,” she says slowly. “I don’t believe you were ever young and crazy. You’re so together and mature.”
“Well, maybe I wasn’t young and crazy. Maybe I was just trying to be. I thought I was in love. It was…glorious. You know—passionate, obsessive, teenage love.”
“Mmm.”
“He was older, obviously.”
“Um, how old, exactly? I mean, there are guys who play in the NHL who are teenagers…”
“Twenty-eight.”
Her eyes pop open.
I nod. “I know. Anyway. I don’t really have daddy issues, even though it might seem like that. I do like older men, but it’s not to fill an emotional void left by my father. He was mostly there for me.”
“Mostly,” she says in that dry tone again.
“Okay, he was gone a lot. He was busy. Also, he was busy with the boys…because they played hockey.”
“You’ve been to therapy, I take it.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I don’t know your therapist, but that sounds a lot like an absent father to me.”
I nod slowly in agreement. “Yeah. I don’t want to blame him for my weird hang-ups, though. He’s a good dad, really.”
“So…you’ve always wanted a protective, older male figure as your romantic partner.”
“Apparently. I really I thought I loved this guy. And there’s more. He was…married.”
“Oh my God.”
“I was a stupid kid.” I plead with her with my eyes to not judge me. “I know it was a mistake.”
“He was a fucking assbucket. What kind of man would do that? Jesus! You were a child!”
“Yes. I know that now.”
“You’re not going to tell me who it is.”
“No.” I wrinkle my nose. “It’s enough to say that obviously when my dad found out about it, he went berserk.”
She closes her eyes. “I can only imagine.”
“So there’s the problem…Wyatt’s not an older guy, but he plays for my dad’s team. And he is someone who doesn’t care about his reputation, so dating me…no big deal. He doesn’t care what people say. The media loves it right now, but…what if…what if…we try to have a real relationship and things go wrong? I can’t do that to my family again.”
Lacey’s brows pull together. “Did it get out the last time? When you were a teenager?”
“Not so much.” I bite my lip. “My dad threw some money around and things got buried.”
“And I bet a certain player got traded.”
I nod slowly. “My parents were so disappointed in me. It was the worst time of my life. I knew I’d messed up, but I didn’t want to admit it, and I was pissed off at them for ending things with the man I loved, who I thought was leaving his wife to be with me.” I drop my head forward, the remembered shame scalding inside me. “I wasn’t exactly a joy to deal with. I even tried to run away.”
“Wow.” She lets out a long breath. “Wow. Okay, first of all, you’re not sixteen. You’re twenty-seven. Wyatt’s what…?”
“Twenty-six.”
“Phhht.” Lacey waves a hand. “This is not a big deal.”
“I can’t screw up again! I can’t fall for a guy who plays for the team my dad owns! I let this go too far, it should have just been a few very public dates and now emotions have gotten involved and it’s a big mess.”
She studies me across the table. “Ah, Ev. I’m sorry. Maybe you should talk to Wyatt about it.”
“I can’t.” I shake my head. “I can’t tell him about that.”
She sips her wine, clearly pondering. “Well, here’s what I say. If you love him and want any hope of a relationship with him…you have to tell him. That’s what a relationship is…honesty.” She sips her wine again. “And if you tell him and he can’t handle it, then you couldn’t have had a relationship anyway.”
I think about her words. I’m not sure I buy in to them, though. “Okay, I’ll think about that.”
Chapter 19
Wyatt
We get back from our road trip in the middle of the night. I slept on the plane, but I still go straight to bed when I get home. I’m sore and tired and horny.
I can’t wait to see Everly.
We text when I get up, and make plans for dinner. This time those yahoos aren’t crashing my dinner date. We’ll go somewhere else, not the place we all hang out. I make a reservation at The Fig Tree.
I arrive early at Everly’s place, because it seems stupid to sit at home waiting to see her. She might still be getting ready, but that’s okay, I can hang out.
She doesn’t answer the door right away and I’m almost going to ring the bell again when finally the door opens.
Not only is she not ready, she looks like hell. I step in. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
“I’m not feeling well. I’m sorry.” With a hand on the wall as if she needs it to balance, she makes her way into the living room, then lowers herself carefully onto the couch. “I was going to text you. I was hoping it would pass.”
“Pass?” I frown, following her. “What’s wrong?”
She doesn’t answer, her eyes closed. Her face is flushed and shiny.
I perch on the edge of the sofa and touch her forehead. “Fever?”
“No.” She swallows.
“What can I get you?”
“Um. Some ice water?”
“Sure.” I hasten into her kitchen to fill a glass with ice and water from the fridge dispenser, then return.
She gulps down half of it and hands it back to me. I set it on the table, worry jabbing at my insides.
“I’m sorry,” she says again. “I don’t think I can go out.”
“That’s okay. We’ll just stay here. I can order something in.”
“Sure.”
She’s probably not hungry.
This is just what she was like that night of the banquet, when I had to bring her home. I thought she was drunk.
I gnaw my lip. “Have
you been drinking, sweetheart?”
Her eyes open and her eyebrows snap together. “What? No.” Then her eyes widen. “You think I’m drunk?”
Telling her I thought she had an alcohol problem might not be a good idea right now. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any signs of that since then. “No, no.”
She gives me an incredulous glare, then closes her eyes again. “Shit.” She takes a few deep, even breaths. “Okay, fine. I’m having a panic attack.”
I frown. “Huh?”
“I know I don’t look like I’m panicking or freaking out. But this is how it is. I get a buzzing in my ears. It gets worse and then I get dizzy and nauseous. My heart is racing.” She lays a hand on her chest. “It almost feels like I’m choking, my heart is beating so fast.”
“Oh man.” I stare at her with concern. I have zero experience with something like this. “Does this happen often?”
“Not as much anymore. I’m on a medication. It helps. Usually.”
“What happened? I mean, what caused this?”
“Nothing.” Her lips twitch as she almost smiles. “It’s never one specific thing that triggers it. It just happens at random times.”
“Is this what happened at the banquet?”
“Yeah. I didn’t want to tell you what was happening. It’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid,” I object. “I don’t know much about panic attacks, but I don’t think you can control them.”
“That’s true.” She sighs. “The first time I had one, Mom took me to the emergency room. I was so embarrassed. I thought I was dying, and they told me it was a panic attack. I was all, ‘I don’t have panic attacks.’ ” She snorts. “But that’s what it was. I figured I should be able to just get over it. But…I can’t.”
I pick up her hand and hold it. “I know.” I pause. “What can I do for you? Anything?”
“I…uh…would really like a Slurpee. It’s nice and cold.” She bites her lip adorably.
“I’ll go get you one.” I jump up and pull my keys out. “Where’s the nearest 7-Eleven?”
“Santa Monica and Sixteenth, I think.”
“What kind do you like?”
Win Big Page 18
