“Are you prepared to have a hockey player come live in your apartment for a while?” It’s really the only option. If she wants to claim best friend privileges and move Savannah into her penthouse, then I’m going with.
Someone around me sucks in an audible breath.
She nods. And something in my chest cracks open. I feel like I’ve won big, and the urge to dance out my victory is strong. I mean, living with Athena de la Peña isn’t exactly on my bucket list, but knowing she’s cool with it is all I need to hear.
Her focus on me is laser precise. “Did you call her parents?”
Fuck. Checkmate. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, finally drawing my eyes from her piercing glare. I’d like a different question please.
“Huh.” She drops down onto the couch and indicates for me to do the same. This isn’t good. It means she’s not leaving yet, and there’s only so much grilling I can stand up to.
“Did she ask you to call her mom?”
Don’t move, don’t breathe, don’t give her any reason to think you—
“You went behind her back to tell her parents?” She groans, then her shoulders start shaking and the couch vibrates. She throws her head back, laughing so hard tears are literally spilling down her cheeks.
It’s not like her assumptions are wrong. I texted the Bowens from the emergency room and kept them up to date with Savannah’s progress, even though she asked me not to.
“Does she know you told them?”
More silence from me, more laughter from her, and one of the guys releases a slow hiss. Yeah, he knows I’m fucked, too.
“Are they coming here?”
They said they’ll be here Friday for her surgery. I might even have helped them sort out accommodation close by. Yeah, I was pretty busy while Vannah took her first of twenty cat naps earlier. And of course Athena knows despite me keeping my mouth shut. Dammit.
“You were doing so well.” Athena sits up and pats my chest. “It’s been nice knowing you, Justin. You might want to say your goodbyes to your boys, because when she finds out about this, I’m going to be the least of your problems.”
My stomach sinks. So Savannah said she didn’t want to tell her parents, but that’s what we all say, right? We don’t want to bother them with something small. Except abdominal surgery isn’t small, and by the time she’s being wheeled into surgery and decides she wants her parents by her side, it’ll be too late to get them here in time.
I needed to act. I know she’s upset with her folks for keeping the truth from her about her adoption, but creating more space between them isn’t going to do any of them any good.
I did the right thing. I did.
“Did you, though?” Athena’s expectant face softens with sympathy? Pity? Something that doesn’t feel great.
I must have said that last part out loud. I’m clearly spending too much time with Savannah and her habits are rubbing off on me. I nod, firm in my decision to contact my girlfriend’s family without her permission. “I did. Surgery isn’t a small deal. I read up on this one, the potential complications… And while chances are she’ll be fine, there’s always the possibility that things could go wrong on the table.”
“You should probably tell her you told her parents and they’re coming.”
“You’re not going to tell her?”
Athena rolls her eyes again. “If I wanted to destroy your relationship, sure. I’d go tell her you ratted her out to her parents. But she likes you, and she was starting to trust you. I don’t want to be the one to ruin that for her, for either of you. You need to get ahead of this, and tell her when she wakes up.”
I don’t know if this is an olive branch from the ice queen, or if she’s toying with me and this is some kind of blood sport so she can watch Savannah pull my body apart with her teeth.
“Can I at least wait until after the popcorn?”
It’s the worst trope in the book. Miscommunication. I know in my heart I should have been upfront with her, about my past, about my career, and now about her parents. It’s like a snowball gathering size as it rolls downhill, and the only way to stop it is to lie in its path and let it crash into me.
How did I even get here? Reading miscommunication tropes in romance novels is so frustrating that I try hard not to write them. Yet here I am living the damn thing.
When I read it, it seems so easy. “Just tell her,”you scream at the pages, wanting to smack the hero’s head with the girthy paperback of their love story. But here, now, living it, breathing it? I get it. The fear of putting your truth out there for the person you love, to see, is fucking terrifying. Especially when it directly contradicts everything she believes about you, or has the power to destroy everything you’ve built between you both. Yeah, I totally get it now.
Athena’s glare cuts straight through my chest. She doesn’t need to answer. “I’m gonna split, but I’ll stay local in case she wants to leave.”
My stomach sinks further. This really isn’t good. I kept the truth from her, about my career, about her parents, about everything. She’s already mad at everyone else in her life, and she’s not going to care that I didn’t technically lie to her.
