Page 16 of Home Ice

“I was confused.”

“You said you were confused?”

“I said … I don’t remember.” He groans and rubs his forehead.

I get where he’s coming from. I don’t even know where I’d start if I had a kid sprung on me, especially one Kasen’s age. But also knowing Kasen, and thinking of where he’s coming from, Hawke can’t expect him to automatically be thrilled to have a replacement parent.

“I hate to say this,” I start, choosing my words carefully, “but you need to decide what you want. Kasen’s a really good kid, but if you want to know him … it’s going to be on you.”

“He doesn’t want that.”

“Of course he does. But think about it. He’s convinced himself that you knew about him and have ignored him all his life. It’s easier to hold on to that bitterness than to let you in and be disappointed.”

Hawke doesn’t answer, and we get closer to the neighborhood his parents moved to. I don’t know where they live, but it’s hard not to keep tabs on everyone in a town this small.

“You need to give me directions.”

“Left,” he grunts.

I follow all the way until we arrive at the first cute house in a line of identical ones.

The second I pull up, Hawke immediately grips the door handle and throws it open.

“Hey.” I grab his arm before he can leave, but he doesn’t look at me. “For what it’s worth, Kasen needs you. And you guys would get along really well.”

“Not if he hates me.”

“It’s your job not to give him a reason to.”

I’m expecting him to storm away, but he hesitates.

“He won’t come around easily,” I say. “But it will be worth it. You just have to figure out if that’s what you want.”

And I’ve pushed too hard because that’s the point he storms away.

I watch him until he gets inside the house, and then I sit there, staring at the sky, wondering what the fuck today even was.

Chapter Five

JENSEN

Iwas drunk enough to earn a hangover this morning, but not drunk enough to forget everything that happened.

I should have drunk more; anything to make the memory of Barrett’s hero moment disappear. Of course, it’s been ten years, and he acts as though nothing happened. Like I didn’t spend months—fuck, maybe years—questioning what I did wrong for things to end the way they did. I missed him, more than I’ll ever admit to anyone, and I think he fucked me up for friendships from that point forward. Sure, I have my teammates, and I have Lachie, but our relationships are built on hockey and golf and parties. I can’t remember the last time I actually talked to someone.

Maybe it would have been easier to process everything with Kasen if I had that kind of person in my life.

Because all it took was one conversation with Barrett to make me doubt all the decisions I came to yesterday before going to the bar and trying to drink away the grossness those decisions brought.

I hate that it was Barrett who made me question it all, though, because I know myself. I’m too stubborn and still holding too much of a grudge to acknowledge that maybe he was giving good advice.

Maybe Kasen does need me.

I groan and push out of bed, headache slamming against my temples as I go in search of painkillers. Anyone needing me is a worry in itself, and this poor kid has been through enough.

I creep through the house, up so early because I slept like shit, and try not to wake my parents. Gigi went home last night before I left, and she’s too logical to have deep conversations with anyway. She’s never met a problem she couldn’t solve, but this isn’t something I need her to fix for me.

After draining two large glasses of water, I eye the coffee machine, trying to decide whether to turn it on, but I’m craving bacon and eggs on top of the caffeine, and I can’t be fucked to cook those myself.