Page 97 of Bitter Sweet Heart


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He skates over to me, gives me a rough hug, and tells me that was one of my best plays this season. The back pats and praise keep coming from my teammates. It should make me feel good, but for whatever reason, it has the opposite effect. Instead of feeling awesome about the goal I set up, it creates a pit in my stomach—the one that’s been growing all year and getting bigger the closer we get to the end of the season.

We win the game by three goals. It’s the best we’ve ever played against Russo and his pals, and for sure they’re going home sore. In the last period, they ended up with two penalties for chippy playing, and Russo kept on with the digs, but for once, I didn’t react. In part because I didn’t want to end up in the penalty box while Clover was watching.

I get what my dad has been saying about settling down and finding someone who balances me out. He’s always talked about how he became a better player when he found my mom. She made him want to do better, be better—play with integrity and not testosterone. And I see what he means now.

I glance across the rink to where Clover’s gathering her things, looking more like a student than a woman who works at the university with her pom-pom beanie and school-colors scarf.

She reminds me of a Hogwarts student with the stripes and glasses, which she seems to love to wear these days just to get a rise out of me. And they’ve grown on me over the past several months. I used to think they overwhelmed her face, but now I like the way those thick, dark frames make the ring of blue in her eyes pop.

It isn’t until we’re gathering our stuff from the bench that I spot my parents in the stands behind us, sitting up near the back of center ice. There are a couple of guys in suits right behind them, scouts keeping an eye on their investments, since Kody and I aren’t the only guys on the team to have been drafted. It’s probably good that I was too distracted by Clover to notice them until now.

My parents wave, and my dad gives me a thumbs-up.

“Looks like you’re going out for a celebratory dinner with your ’rents,” Kody says as he shucks off his gloves and grabs his water bottle.

“Seems like it.”

“Nice work out there, guys.” Quinn claps us both on the shoulders as he passes, heading for the shower.

“Thanks, man,” we say in unison.

I don’t message Clover like I want to, not with Kody sitting beside me, taking off his equipment in his organized, methodical way, folding everything neatly, even though it’s all going to end up getting washed.

My plan had been to shower, get dressed, drop my truck off at home, and meet Clover at her place, but my parents being here throws a wrench in things.

Kody and I shower, dress, and hang our equipment. Quinn falls into step with us as we head to the foyer, where my parents are waiting.

“I feel like you get bigger every time I see you,” Mom says to Quinn, pulling him in for a hug.

“Maybe you’re starting to shrink.” He pats her gently on the back.

“It’s entirely possible. How’s the master’s thesis going? Poppy says you’re applying for your PhD.”

“It’s good. A lot of work, but worth it. And yeah, that’s the plan.”

My dad commends him on his dedication, then gives Kody the usual greeting, telling him he had a great game and making a comment about how he hopes Kody’s treating his baby girl right. It’s predictable and hilarious, because Kody never fails to get flustered and turn bright red.

My mom rolls her eyes. “Give Kody a break, Alex. You’ve known him since he was in diapers. You don’t need to give him the ‘treat my daughter like I’m watching your every move’ speech whenever we see him. It’s awkward for everyone. Especially since there are images of you and me playing dueling tongues all over social media from when we were their age.”

Dad gives Mom a look. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point? We all know you’re Dad of the Year. You don’t need any more accolades, and Kody doesn’t need to have an anxiety attack every time he sees you. Besides, they’re moving in together next month. I think it’s time to let go of the whole she’s-my-baby-girl-forever ideal.”

Quinn and I stand off to the side, watching this all go down. I’m just happy that the focus isn’t on me. I missed it when my parents and Kody’s came for a visit after my sister announced she was taking a summer internship at an off-Broadway theater to design costumes. And that Kody was coming with her. Apparently, it was a real come-to-Jesus talk, where Lavender told our parents she was tired of living in a bubble. It also happened on the same day River brought his boyfriend home, unaware the ’rents were there, and finally came out to them. This semester has been eventful, that’s for sure.

Anyway, I’m a little disappointed that Lavender isn’t here tonight to endure the embarrassment along with Kody. But she’s neck-deep in making costumes for the next school performance. Having her here would probably just prolong this, though, and as fun as it is to watch Kody squirm, I’m antsy to get the inevitable dinner with the parents over with so I can do the celebrating I want to, which is the naked kind. With Clover.

My dad invites Kody and Quinn out to dinner with us, but they both cite homework. Kody probably wants to take another shower because he hates the locker room ones and Quinn is likely being honest. But my parents don’t hassle them about it. Quinn and Kody head to the parking lot on the north side of the arena.

“I noticed the scouts, were they checking up on us?” I ask as we make our way through the lobby and head for the doors.

Dad nods and claps me on the shoulder. “You had a great game tonight, and they noticed.”

“That’s good.” It’s a relief that I played well.

The parking lot is mostly empty at this point, with only a few small groups of people left heading for their cars. The sun is close to the horizon, and the sky a murky gray, clouds heavy and threatening rain. I scan the lot, assuming Clover is long gone. I’ll have to let her know I’m going to be a lot later than I planned.

I notice a couple standing near the back of the lot. At first, I don’t think anything of it, until I recognize the woman as Clover. She’s easy to spot with her green jacket. The problem is the man—it’s freaking Gabriel.What the hell is he up to?

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