AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The Dianne House of Hope, Dad, and they’re nothomeless, some of the families—”
“It doesn’t matter. Your mother said you’re on the list of celebrity guests for the event in two weeks.”
I can feel a headache forming, right behind my eyes. “Yes.” Events like these are required, and I’m not the only member of the team who will be in attendance. Nothing like a couple of famous athletes to make everyone loose with their checkbooks.
“Well good, I’ll be there as well. Been awhile since we’ve seen you, so it will be a nice opportunity to catch up.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I really do have a headache. Three years since I’ve seen my dad, but apparently my lucky streak is at an end. I suppose I should be grateful—it will be in a room full of people and neither of my parents would dare cause a public scene.Remember it’s for a charity. You can be uncomfortable for a couple hours as long as it benefits others.
“Yeah.” I say, because nothing much is required of me when speaking to my dad. He mostly wants to hear himself talk.
“You’re still weak on your left side, you know that? You’re going to break an ankle and end your own career before it’s begun.”Ah, so on to hockey, then.“And you realize you’re behind on shots on goal? Both of your line mates take more shots than you, and St. James is half the player you are. Don’t even get me started on that Nichols kid, and the rumors I’ve heard about him.”
Five…four…three…two…one.
Five…four…three…two…one.
He’s still talking, but the blood is pounding in my ears in a way that makes it hard to hear. Like he’s speaking to me underwater. Vaguely, I wonder if I’m about to pass out.
“Is Mom there?” I interrupt. “Can I talk to Mom?”
“If you wanted to talk to your mother, you’d call her more.” I flinch. “And no, she’s out doing god knows what, spending my money.”
He laughs. I don’t think he’d even notice if Ididpass out; he would just keep talking into the abyss until the battery on my phone died. I walk over to one of my deck chairs, sitting down before I fall down. Leaning forward, I balance my elbows on my knees and stare at my feet. He’s back on hockey, unhappy with my scoring averages this season, but at least it’s me he’s criticizing and not my teammates.
“Assists.” I interrupt.
“What?” He snaps. “I can’t hear you when you mumble.”
“I said assists. I have high assists.”
“Fantastic. So, you’re in the business of making everyone else look good now? Jesus, I thought I taught you better than that.”
You didn’t teach me to score goals, you jackass.There’s a motion to my right, and my vision really does tunnel when I whip my head around. Nigel is walking into the kitchen, head turning as he looks for me, not having spotted me sitting out here.
“I’ve got to go.” I say, loudly, Interrupting another tirade. “I’ve got to go, I…I guess I’ll see you later.”
I hang up, closing my eyes and taking several deep breaths in through my nose before releasing them out my mouth.You’re not going to be sick, you’re fine. You’re fucking fine.
“Corwin?”Goddamnit.
I turn toward him, wiping my hands surreptitiously on my athletic shorts. My entire body feels cold with sweat. “Hey, sorry.”
I stand up and teeter, like I’m on the deck of a boat. Nigel’s hand is on my arm, and I stare down at it. By the time I look back up at his face I realize he’s been speaking and I haven’t heard him. He looks alarmed.
“What?” I ask, and then, because I feel like I need to apologize again, though I’m not exactly sure why, “Sorry.”
“Are you okay?” He can’t hide a single one of his feelings, and right now his brows are furrowed in worry and his grip is firm on my arm. I focus on that, trying to absorb the warmth from his hand.
“I’m fine.”
He’s staring at me, eyes moving over my face rapidly, as he tries to read my expression. It wasn’t exactly a lie, I really do feel fine now that he’s standing here.
“You look like you’re going to be sick. Here, sit down again, I’ll go get some water.”
He tries to use my arm to direct me back to the chair. “I’m okay, really. I just got a little lightheaded, probably shouldn’t have done a workout on an empty stomach.”
He frowns at me, not quite buying this. I don’t blame him; it’s a feeble excuse, at best. I do a lot of workouts on an empty stomach, and he knows it. It also doesn’t explain why I’m outside.
