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His hair’s pushed back more than normal, wet from a shower, revealing those wide, sharp gray eyes, the beautiful lines of his cheekbones and jaw. He smiles when he sees me, like he did on the ice—bright teeth and deep dimples. My heart spins like a top.
Wrapping my arms around him as he drops his bag, I let him twirl me. “You were incredible.”
“I know,” he says, laughing into my neck.
I snort as he sets me down, and I bring a hand to his head. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “This will probably shock you, but I have some experience with getting into brawls. I know how to make sure I don’t get conked too bad.”
“Coulda fooled me on that last part,” Frankie says, walking up to him. She squeezes his arm, and gives him something shockingly close to a smile. “You did great.”
His smile falters, like she’s stunned him. He blinks at her. “I, uh…thanks.”
Frankie frowns, then smacks his arm. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you acting like that?”
“You complimented me!” He steps back out of her reach. “I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Take the damn compliment, Gauthier, Jesus. I’m not that hard on you, am I?”
Ren wraps an arm around Frankie’s shoulder and kisses her temple. “Francesca. How you feeling?”
“Fine,” she mutters, staring at Sebastian. “Except this one is making me think I’ve traumatized him.”
Sebastian smiles at Frankie, his expression warming. “You haven’t traumatized me, Frankie. I’m just…getting used to actually having earned kind words from you.”
Frankie’s expression softens. “Well, good.”
“You were wonderful, älskling,” Mom says, tugging Ren’s head her way and kissing his temple.
Ren smiles. “Thank you, Mom.”
“And you too, Seb.” Mom wraps her arms around Sebastian.
He blinks over her shoulder at me, eyes wide, then slowly brings his arms to her back. “Thank you—”
“Hell of a game, son.” Dad’s in there next, bear hugging Ren, then squishing Sebastian into his arms, just as Mom lets go.
Air rushes out of Sebastian.
I bite my lip and shrug as his eyes hold mine, crinkling with what I think is a suppressed laugh.
“Let the man breathe,” Ren says, patting Dad’s back.
Dad lets go. “You two.” He points between my brother and Sebastian. “That was beautiful hockey.”
“Thank you, Dr. B—”
“Sebby!”
A voice I’ve never heard before cuts through our conversation. Sebastian’s shoulders rise, and his jaw hardens. He spins around. A woman who looks to be in her forties stands, tall and lean, built like a ballerina. His mother?
Her hair’s dark like Sebastian’s, but her eyes are deep blue, nothing like his. A man stands beside her, white-haired, wearing wire-rimmed spectacles, his posture as ramrod straight as hers. He wears an expensive-looking wool overcoat. He doesn’t acknowledge us at all, though the woman slants us a glance, before she rushes toward Sebastian.
“You were incredible, my darling son. I’m so proud of you.”
Sebastian’s stiff in her arms. I watch this exchange with growing unease.
“I think we’ll be going,” Mom says to me, before she raises her voice. “Seb.”
