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“A little more than you’ve let on,” he says, pulling me along.
“What does that mean?” I ask, and he shrugs. I don’t push, though. I’m too distracted by the many guitars on the wall. They’re all different types, colors, and shapes. Super neat.
“Do you play? I noticed you had some in your room.”
“I do. Owen plays a bit but not as well, and then Shelli plays. We’re the only two out of the five siblings who can play more than one instrument,” he says, but he doesn’t say it proudly. Kinda offhandedly and like it doesn’t matter.
“What else do you play?”
“Piano, violin, and a mean-ass harmonica.”
I grin, wholeheartedly impressed. “Evan, that’s fucking cool. You should just walk around with a guitar and be like, ‘Yup. Let me play you a song ’cause I’m so fucking cool.’”
He chuckles. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Because everyone can play?”
“I could be lying.”
I eye him. “Are you?”
“No. But really, it’s not a big deal,” he says, shrugging.
“Because you don’t play hockey?” I ask, and he looks away, answering me without saying a word. I want to yell at him that there is so much more to him than hockey, but I’m sure his family has told him the same. Just the fact that he is here, healing from his panic attack today, shows how much his family loves him. It’s not only about the convenience of them living here; they wouldn’t want him anywhere else. Owen flew in as soon as he got word, and according to Aviva, the family is worried.
Silence stretches between us, and then he grabs my hands. Evan guides me to what I assume is his room. When we enter, it’s like a shrine of all the things Owen and Evan did growing up in hockey. Nico has a room like this, but even I’m impressed by all the hardware and hockey memorabilia. “Wow,” I say, looking around. “This is incredible.”
“Yeah.” I feel him watching me as I take it all in, but when I realize I’m gawking at things, I stop myself. Obviously, he’s self-conscious after his medical retirement, so I doubt I’m making that easier for him by being so impressed by his extensive accomplishments. I remember how everyone was so excited when the IceCats drafted them. They were gonna be franchise players. Now, it’s only Owen. Though, I think he enjoys all the attention. I look back at Evan and hold out my hand toward him. He comes to me, taking it, and I start to bring him to the closest bed, but he stops me. “That’s Owen’s bed.”
Evan pulls me toward the other bed, and without even saying a word or discussing it, we lie beside each other. Our legs tangle together, and I kick off my flip-flops as I cuddle into his side. His chin rests on the top of my head as I tuck my hands against his chest. I close my eyes as our breathing slows and falls into pace together.
“You two still share a room?”
“We did until Owen’s fiancée came along. In South Carolina, too.”
“That’s not weird at all,” I say, grinning, and I can feel him laugh a bit. “It’s absolutely adorable. I didn’t grow up with siblings like you did. Aviva was the mom, not the sister.”
“Why’s that? You don’t have a relationship with your parents?”
“Well, I don’t have a choice with my mom. She died when I was younger.”
Such compassion shines in his sweet eyes. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. It sucks,” I say softly. “My dad, though, he left us when Aviva got breast cancer. And he came in and out of our lives until, finally, Aviva told him to go away. No matter what, Aviva never left me. Not even cancer could take her.”
“Wow. I’m sorry you had to go through that. What were his issues?”
I shrug, emotion making it hard to talk. “He broke when we lost my mom to cancer, and then when Aviva got it too, he couldn’t hang and just abandoned us. Got into drugs and alcohol really bad.”
“Jesus. Again, I’m so sorry. It’s weird they both had it.”
I shake my head against his chest. “It’s a gene that’s on my mom’s side. I actually have the gene, which is why I don’t have boobs. I got them removed over two years ago.”
I’ve never been so open about it. Never offered the information, only when someone has asked. No one on the team knows, not even Cameron. Tommy knew, but that’s because he was grossed out a bit because I had just gotten my nipples tattooed on. They were healing, and my scars weren’t as white as they are now. Sometimes I forget I even had the surgery, which is why I’m surprised I even mentioned it. Especially since Evan didn’t ask during our night together. “I was going to get implants, but I decided not to yet. Maybe when I graduate.”
“Yeah, you don’t want them to get in the way.”
“Exactly.”
“I feel like a dumbass. I didn’t even realize they weren’t there.”
“Really? I get so self-conscious about my nipples since they’re tattooed on.”
“Wow, yeah. I wasn’t paying attention to them.”
