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“You have to dress up like Dad behind the bar this summer. The locals will love it.”
“No. No way. You’re insane.”
“If I am driving you five hours to Canada to get laid…you’re wearing the beret.”
“Fine,” I said. I’d wear a thousand berets to get inside Liv. “But I’m not wearing the shorts.”
* * *
It wasin fact a five hour drive west from Portland to Montreal and my sister drove like a bat out of hell. We got to Liv’s apartment at dinner time.
Her townhouse was a million times better than the shitty apartment the Bruisers put her in. Every time I thought of the way she’d been treated by my team, it made me mad all over again. But Coach was putting his money where his mouth was and the whole organization had been revamped. More women were being hired in high level roles and all of us were attending workshops on harassment in the work place.
Novek felt so much guilt about the hockey puck incident, he donated time and money to a Portland women’s shelter.
Liv had no idea the changes she’d left behind on that organization. I knew McKay wanted her back. The skating coach he’d hired to replace her had none of Liv’s innovation and team-building skills.
I pulled the crutches out of Wendy’s Jeep, got them under each arm and took a few tentative steps forward.
“So? What?” Wendy asked. “I just sit here while you go get your rocks off?”
“Don’t be crass, sis,” I said, and pulled my wallet out of the pocket of my gray sweatpants. “Take yourself to dinner and book a suite at the Four Seasons.”
I tossed the wallet over my shoulder, knowing she’d catch it.
“Don’t forget all the exercises you need to do every day and don’t get crazy with the wild monkey sex. The doctor said you could put some weight on it. Not swing from the ceiling.”
She gave me a jaunty salute, popped back into her Jeep and was gone. Probably already booking an appointment at the spa.
Before I got all the way to Liv’s townhouse, the door opened.
And there she was. Hair pulled back in a pony tail, no makeup. Wearing black leggings and a familiar Bruisers’ jersey that I knew if she turned around, would have my name on it.
“Did my sister tell you we were coming?” I asked.
“She texted me at the border. What are you thinking coming up stairs…”
She stopped. Her eyes went wide.
“Weight-bearing activity, baby.”
She threw her front door wide. “Get that dick in here.”
“I love you,” I said abruptly.
We hadn’t said it and I’d thought, maybe stupidly, that we didn’t need to. Because weknewit. That was enough.
Her eyes went wide and filled with tears.
Yeah, that’s why I needed to say it. Because it filled her with light inside.
“I love you more than hockey. I love you more than anything else in my life. I want to get you pregnant. Like a bunch of times. I want to listen to you trash talk anyone who thinks they have a shot at beating you in a three-legged race. I want to listen to you trash talk our children.”
“Dillon,” she laughed through her tears.
“You’re all I want. More than hockey, more than my leg to get better, more than my team. Definitely more than some damn trophy. I want to be distracted by you every day of my life and I’ll be grateful for it. I promise.”
“Wow,” she finally said. “That was really good.”
