Chapter 13

thirteen

SUNSHINE

H appiness dances along my skin and my fingers tap against the steering wheel in time with the song on the radio as I steal another glance of the girl at my side.

It took too long for me to put a name to the emotion that Emery drags out of me time after time. But how could it be anything else when every second with her becomes my new favorite memory?

Her arm brushes against mine as she turns up the volume on the radio and I’m stricken with how breathtaking she is. She smiles wider, her eyes flashing with her own happiness as she leans into me, singing along with the radio.

She waits for me to smile, or maybe sing along and despite myself, the corners of my lips curl up slightly. Of course, she takes that small gesture as a win and turns to her other side where Colby sits.

Girl has got no chance of not being dragged into Emery’s impromptu karaoke session on the way to the game.

Colby’s voice joins her on the chorus, only encouraging Emery to put her whole heart and soul into her performance.

I never saw this being how my night was going to go tonight. Or any night for that matter. But like every other part of the day, as unexpected and unprecedented as its been, every single bit of it felt natural beyond means. Beyond logical reason.

As if Emery wakes up in my bed every morning. As if we always eat breakfast together and help each other with stupid daily chores and tasks. And now, like picking up her friend and being an audience of one to the chaos of two girls in my truck is an everyday occurrence.

Even Colby barely batted an eye as we waited for her outside. Like it made sense.

Like Emery and I together make sense.

After months of painstakingly watching my words around her, filtering my thoughts, and burying the desire and interest I had for her, today was like a breath of fresh air. Nothing felt forced or awkward. Each moment with her flowing into the next.

I never meant to flirt with her the way I did today. Each line escaping my mouth before I ever had a chance to think them through. Each time she didn’t yell at me and instead blushed and gave me that little look, even flirted back, it made me want to push it just a little further. Find where the line was between us. Where it felt natural. But all I figured out today was that line was nowhere to be found.

When I let myself relax and do what feels right, it always comes back to her.

The song ends and Emery and Colby dissolve into giggles while I pull into the parking lot at the arena. “You won’t have a voice left to cheer for your brothers if you’re not careful,” I tease, making her roll her eyes while Colby giggles more. She’s slowly getting more comfortable with me ever since Emery decided she would be sitting with us at every game.

I’d hold it against her, but we’re never alone anyways. At least Isla and Colby are sweet. Torryn on the other hand, never fails to make my life harder.

Emery shrugs. “My brothers have a big enough head anyways. Who needs to cheer for them?”

As if she’ll be able to help it. She gets far too into the games to be able to hold herself back.

“You gonna cheer for me when I’m back on the ice?” I ask. “Or is my head too big as well?”

Her smirk gives away her answer before she ever opens her mouth, but it doesn’t make it any less fun to hear it. “Your head is rather inflated,” she teases, and I expect her words to stop but there but she continues, “but I guess I’ll have to cheer for you if I’m wearing your name on my back.”

I don’t even have a comeback for her. Too busy imagining how good she would look cheering my name. It’s not like I haven’t seen her cheer for me before, but it’s always been her own last name that she has worn. The idea of replacing it with my own has me damn near speechless.

Colby’s eyes flick back and forth between us, but she says nothing as Emery grabs both of our arms and we walk into the game.

“Will your dad be able to find us?” I ask to break up the train of my thoughts as we pass the station for delusional and head straight to crazy town.

“I told him where we always sit. He’ll be fine.”

Even saying bye to her dad and making plans to meet up later felt like something you would do with a girlfriend. And he never once thought it was strange for me to be there without Tate. For me to take care of his daughter.

Colby points to Emery’s camera that she brought with her today. She brings it to most games, but she sometimes leaves it behind if she knows she won’t be getting close to the ice. “Did you get the photos for your brother’s presents? ”

Emery nods, giving me a threatening glare. “Don’t you dare tell them.” She’s already sworn me to secrecy when I helped her convince Coach to give her closer access to the ice for her to get her shots. But I never got to see the finished product.

I mime zipping my lips as we take our seats and Emery continues. “I had to order them to be printed, but they just got here yesterday. Want to see?”

Colby nods and Emery pulls out her phone. I lean over to see the photos she pulls up of both Tate and Zac. Her talent astounds me as she flicks through several images. Each one more impressive than the last. Zac with the puck, gliding up the ice towards the goal. Tate in the goal, his legs bent in at the knees as he blocks the puck from going between his legs. The focus and drive written into their expressions and captured so perfectly on her camera.

I let out a low whistle. “These are damn impressive.”

She blushes as she swipes to another photo. This one has Zac and Wilder playing offense, Zac sending a pass to Wilder where he waits in front of the goal. The two following photos capture the goal he scored and their victory high five between the two friends.

“Em,” Colby whispers, “Xander is right. These are incredible.” She grabs Emery’s phone and begins zooming in on the guys’ expressions, looking at different aspects of the photos and making comments to Emery that I don’t wholly understand about lighting, but they make Emery’s blush intensify.

“Thanks, Cece,” she whispers, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

My hand finds her thigh and I squeeze. “Proud of you, brat.”

She scrunches her nose at me in protest of the nickname, but her hand falls on top of mine. Rather than brushing me off, she interlocks her fingers over mine and squeezes. “Thanks.” And that one small action makes more hope bloom in my chest that maybe I’m not losing my mind. Maybe she feels this thing too.

All of a sudden, she jumps as Colby begins to swipe on her phone, quickly grabbing it and locking it before practically throwing it into her purse.

Both Colby and I trade a look of amusement before arching a brow at Emery. She clears her throat, clearly trying to come up with some excuse, but before she has a chance to say anything Torryn and Isla take their seats behind us.

I can take a few guesses why she panicked, and based on Colby’s knowing grin, I’m not the only one. The boys won’t be the only ones to get photos as their Christmas presents this year.

After the girls all say hi to each other, Emery asks if anyone else is hungry.

“The game hasn’t even started yet,” I point out.

“Which means it’s the perfect time to go get food and not miss anything,” she argues. Isla agrees and offers to go with her, looking to Torryn and Colby in a silent offer.

Torryn is already shaking her head. “Watching Baylor warm up is the best part of the game.”

“Perv,” I taunt.

“Have you seen his ass?” she deadpans. “You’d be a perv too.”

Colby looks at Tor with a little fear in her eyes, but some amusement too. “I’ll stay with Torryn,” she offers, gesturing for us to go by her.

It takes long enough for us to get our food that we missed the start of the game, but I’ve seen the team announced more times than I ever needed to experience in my life. Being here in the arena, so close to the ice and yet not on it, has been one of the most discombobulating feelings .

The crisp smell of ice and the bite of chill against my skin feels a whole lot like home. But not being a part of the action, putting my body on the line to keep the puck off our side, that part feels wrong. To sit back and watch Tate block shot after shot when I know I could tighten up the defense.

This is the last game I’ll have to feel like that. Helpless to watch the guys I already think of as my team fight and claw their way through the opposing teams’ offenses. I’ll be right there in the thick of it with them.

We get back to our seats just as Beau forces their center to pass the puck, but our other defenseman misses his chance to intercept or block and their winger has a free shot at Tate. I clench my hands into fists, holding my breath as Tate swipes the puck out of the air. My whole body relaxes and I exhale as he tosses the puck to Beau who moves the play back up the ice where Baylor, James, and Wells are already moving in sync.

Emery grins around a too big bite of nachos, pumping her fist instead of cheering as cheese spills down her chin. I swipe it clean with my thumb before popping it in my mouth without thought. Her eyes widen as she watches me lick my thumb clean and feelings a whole lot lower and even less wholesome begin to stir when her tongue darts out to lick her lips.

“You guys are not being subtle,” Torryn says from behind me, jolting me from my wayward thoughts.

Why do we have to be subtle?

“Leave me alone,” I respond. “It’s my last game to eat junk.”

“Don’t think that’s what you’re going to be missing,” she snarks and Isla pokes her head forward.

“What?”

I turn back to glare at Torryn. Look what she’s done now.

Every single moment that has happened today has been a moment that I stole for myself. Not a single one of them was ever meant to be mine. From the second I woke up, holding her in my arms and all the time I spent watching her sleep while she curled against my side, to laughing while we ate, and making her blush every time I tried to sneak something else into her bag, none of them belonged to the guy who is supposed to be her friend.

I couldn’t help but steal them.

To crave seeing her and knowing her in new and different ways. To claim her as mine, even for only a moment. To be the one who all of her attention was on. To make her think about me the way I can’t stop thinking about her.

But the thing about taking things that were never meant to be yours is you’ll always want more. More moments, more smiles, more blushes. I want to own them all, to not have to steal them any longer but to be given them freely.

And after one of the best days of my life, I’m starting to think it might be possible. But that doesn’t mean I want to share it with anyone else. Yet.

Torryn rolls her eyes at my glare, but points to the ice, drawing Isla’s attention back to the game and away from us. Wells currently has the puck and is moving to take a shot, their goalie is ready. At the last second, he flicks a pass to Baylor across the ice, but their blueliner is already there, forcing Baylor to take the puck around the back of the goal. Effectively killing their momentum.

I’m vaguely aware of the play, but even hockey doesn’t seem to stand a chance against my infatuation with this girl at my side. Emery’s gaze flickers in my direction and she cocks her head in a silent question, wondering why I can’t take my eyes off of her. But I’ve been asking myself that question for months now, and I still can’t come up with an answer.

I wink at her and her cheeks heat in the way that makes me wonder if her body reacts the same way. If she would still be just as shy and responsive if I had her stripped bare in front of me. It has become harder and harder throughout the day to not envision her under me, on top of me, and every other position that would bring us closer.

A large hand falls on my shoulder and squeezes. “Thanks for always looking out for my girl.” Emery’s dad takes the seat next to me, sighing as he attempts to get his large frame comfortable.

“Of course,” I agree. I’m hoping to always be around to look out for her. I study her dad from the corner of my eye. How would he feel about that? If I actually made a move on her.

He chuckles at my easy acknowledgment. “You always have been like a brother to her.”

Dumping ice cold water over my head would have been less shocking.

I can’t help but look at Emery, but she’s talking to Colby and hasn’t even noticed her dad has arrived, let alone our conversation.

Swallowing thickly, I nod to Mr. Moore. “I’ve always got her back.”

What else can I say? Admit I was just picturing his daughter spread out in front of me like a feast? That’s not my place in her life and it was idiotic to think I could ever be more to her.

Her dad and brothers would never accept that.

What if I really lost the only family I’ve ever known because I read too much into the way this girl’s smiles make my heart race a little faster?

At least I had this one almost perfect day even if it ended with this brutal reminder of what we are.

Like family.

“Good game,” I congratulate Tate, patting him on the shoulder as we walk out of the arena.

He huffs a sigh. “Might have pulled out the win had you been on the line with Beau.”

I roll my eyes, pretending to wave off his words, but they might actually make me preen a bit. I’ve been trying to shake off the mood I’ve been in ever since I came back down to reality. Time with Tate never fails to set me straight though. By the end of the night everything will be back to normal. “We’ll be the dynamic duo again before you know it, sweetheart,” I wink at my best friend and he flips me off.

“Hey,” Beau protests. “What the fuck am I then?” He wraps his arm around Tate’s shoulder, pulling him into his side and I raise a brow when Tate doesn’t push him away. “Who does he always hug on the ice before every game? Me. Not you. That makes us the dynamic duo.”

Those are fighting words.

“Only because I’m not on the ice yet,” I argue. “Tate and I have more history. Years and years and years playing together.” I smirk as his mouth drops open and his hand flies to his chest.

“History, smishtory,” Beau mocks, and Tate shakes his head like he can’t believe either one of us are entertaining this conversation, but it’s exactly what I needed to distract myself from saying goodbye to Emery.

“This is the strangest pissing contest I’ve ever witnessed,” Isla faux whispers to Wells and Torryn, but Torryn hits her, hushing her.

“It’s kinda hot,” she says, bumping Baylor with her elbow. “Get in there, babe. Declare your love for Tate too.” Tate’s face burns red and it’s hard to keep a straight face. “Oh, and take your shirt off while you’re at it,” Torryn adds, and to no one’s surprise, Baylor shrugs before handing James his bag and starts taking off his shirt.

Tate pushes Beau off of him and points his finger at Baylor. “Knock it off.” Baylor holds his hands up innocently, pointing to Torryn, but drops his shirt back down. “You guys are ridiculous,” Tate sighs, his ears and cheeks still burning. So similar to the way Emery’s face heats when she’s flustered.

Even when she’s gone, I can’t keep my thoughts far from her.

I tag along with the group, allowing the others to make the plans and can’t even be surprised when we end up at a party the basketball houses are throwing. It’s loud and crowded and Tate and I are quick to escape to the backyard where at least it isn’t also hot with sweaty people bumping into you every two seconds.

He sighs and hands me a beer as we find a spot that is a little quieter than the rest of the party.

“Remember when we used to be the life of the party?” I tease.

Tate rolls his eyes. “That was always you, buddy.”

I shake my head. He can lie to these guys all he wants, because they’ve never seen that side of him, but he can’t rewrite history. I was there and I remember it. Tate wasn’t always so serious. He knew how to let loose. Had a wild side to him. “Don’t act like you weren’t right there with me.”

His lips twitch, but he refuses to admit anything.

“Give me some time and I’ll dig up some old photos of you,” I promise. “Streaking across the football field, you passed on in a bush in front of your house, throwing up on the side of the freeway.” I tick different incidents off my fingers and he shoves me, laughing .

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t lie then,” I taunt.

He rolls his eyes but he looks relaxed. Happy.

“Fine, yes,” he concedes. “I remember when we were the life of the party.” His tone is mocking, but it only makes it funnier when he continues. “Now we’re old and boring.”

I snort. “We’ll have gray hair and matching walking canes before we know it.”

His amusement grows as he gives me a disbelieving smirk. “Matching? Are you letting what Beau said get into your head?”

I scoff. “Beau in my head? Never.”

Tate doesn’t look like he believes me in the slightest. “He thinks he’s your new best friend.”

All the hugging and jumping into my bed does make a little more sense now. “He apparently thinks he’s your best friend too.” I’m not bitter about it at all. Or jealous that I lost good years with my best friend and the others who are, in fact, quickly becoming the best friends I’ve ever had, besides Tate.

Tate and I had fun in high school. We were well-liked and didn’t struggle to fit in. But it wasn’t like this. With a friend group so strong, it felt like we were all meant to be in each other’s lives. Not that I will ever tell Beau that. He’d probably try and convince me to get matching tattoos.

Tate ruffles my hair. “Never knew you were the jealous type, sweetheart. Don’t worry though, Beau is different from you. The friendship isn’t the same.”

I flip him off, only making him laugh harder.

“I might have other friends,” he mocks, “but you’ll always be family.”

He doesn’t know how those words feel like a knife in my chest and I can’t let him know either.

“I bet you say that to all the pretty boys,” I joke, pushing myself to be the same guy he’s always known. Someone who would wave off the comment, but secretly be really pleased with it.

I can’t be happy about it anymore though. Not when I don’t want to be family to Emery. I want so much more than being another surrogate brother to her. But family doesn’t do that to each other. And Tate deserves more from my friendship than going behind his back.

As natural and perfect as today was, the line I spent all day pretending didn’t exist, is back and more bold than ever. Impossible to continue to ignore.

Tate’s my best friend and Emery is my friend. A friend and that’s all she can ever be.

But even as I force myself to believe that, I can’t stop from texting her good night.

One last time.