Chapter 38

Thirty-Eight

Kyleigh

The Falcons are back for their last preseason game at home, and I arrive with my dad, sitting in the seats that Conor gets for us. I felt a little like a traitor when Rowan volunteered to get me seats, and I turned him down, but I want to sit with my dad.

With our popcorn and drinks, we sit down in front of the glass. I take off my sweatshirt, and my dad raises his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, but Conor can deal with it."

"But his jersey?" My dad looks exhausted with the fight his two children are in.

"Rowan's important to me, and I want to support him." I sit down.

Dad folds himself into the seat next to me. "I know. I do. I tried to talk to him, but he swears you've lost your mind, and Rowan is taking advantage of you."

"Not true. Conor should trust I can make my own decisions."

I eat my popcorn, hoping I'm here before the warm-ups. Rowan does this one stretch where he thrusts his hips that I love to watch.

My dad doesn't say anything for a while, and I hope that means he's going to drop the subject.

"By the way, I wanted to talk to you about something. I don't want to spoil your night, but it seems the only time you have for me are during these games." I open my mouth, but he interrupts me before I can say anything. "It's fine. I remember the early days."

"Sorry, I'll try to reach out more."

He shakes his head. "It's fine. It's nice to see you happy. But you should know that your mom and I are getting a divorce."

It's not a shock, but my stomach clenches anyway.

"And I think you should talk to her. Hear her side. She's your mother."

My hand stops midway to my mouth with the popcorn. "Um…no thanks."

When I think about what my relationship with my mother will be like moving forward, I'm unsure what to expect. I don't see myself never talking to her again, but I'm still so angry.

"Look at me, Ky." My dad turns to me in his seat. Most of the people around us are busy eating and talking and not paying us any attention, so I meet my dad's gaze. "I made mistakes too. A marriage involves two people, and it's not an easy road. Which you'll find out for yourself one day when the time comes. I'm not excusing her actions, and yeah, I'm still mad as hell, but she's the only mom you're ever going to have. I'm asking for you to try to find some common ground between you for your sake, not hers, because this will affect you down the road. And it'll trickle down to your kids when they ask you about their grandmother."

A pain so sharp it feels as if I've been slapped across the face shocks me when I realize that if I'm lucky enough to marry Rowan, my mom will be their only shot at having a grandma. It makes me sad for my imaginary future kids. To only have one set of grandparents who won't even be married.

"I get it, Dad." I sigh.

"Do you? I'm glad. Just lunch or something."

"I'll think about it." I'm definitely not going to give him an affirmative answer because I don't know if I can do it. "And I'll think about it harder if you stay tonight so I can introduce you to Rowan."

"I know Rowan," my dad says with a chuckle.

"Not as my boyfriend."

He smiles and knocks his shoulder against mine. "No, I don't. I look forward to meeting him as such."

"Thanks." I give him a big smile and dip the side of my head onto his shoulder.

The lights go down, and the music ramps up. Strobe lights sweep across the audience and ice. Adrenaline fills my veins as the mic guy announces the players. When he introduces Rowan, I smack the glass and shout while my dad does the same when Conor is announced.

After the introductions, Rowan positions himself in the face-off circle. He gets the puck, in full control, and passes it to Henry. Henry skates back and forth around the defenseman, keeping the puck in his control.

"He's gotta get it out," Dad says, always acting like a player or coach when he watches the games.

Henry shoots it to Rowan, who passes it to Tweetie. I see the reason for his nickname. Rowan is so smooth on the ice. I swear at one point he's so fast I missed a play where he had the puck, and then it was gone.

The three of them hammer it out with the two defensemen from Detroit, and Rowan goes behind the net when the puck gets free. Henry gets there first and spots him, shooting the puck his way.

The puck hits Rowan's stick, and right away he does a wraparound and gets it by the goalie, the red light lighting up and the buzzer going off. He raises his fist in celebration and skates around, coming toward me.

I put my hands on the glass, jumping up and down and cheering. He skates past and blows me a kiss. I could melt into a puddle.

He skates over to the bench, and a new line comes on the ice. Dad elbows me and points toward the Jumbotron. I look up, and there's a picture of Rowan and me with a heart on one side of the screen. On the other side is a picture of Conor in the net with a scowl. The caption reads, "Big Brother Doesn't Look Happy."

Seriously, who got wind of this? This can't be good for the team. I haven't read a hockey blog since Rowan and I solidified our relationship because I don't want to read about myself being bashed. The minute Rowan demanded to put a picture of us on his social media, I tried to tell him it wasn't a good idea. I wasn't looking forward to having every flaw and insecurity of mine being criticized and judged.

I look down the ice to see Conor staring daggers at me, but I don't care. He needs to grow up. Can't he see that he's the only one miserable here?

After the game, I'm waiting with my dad where the players come out.

Conor is first, and he heads over to our dad, shaking his hand. "Thanks for coming." They give one another a hug.

"Great game. You saved a ton for them."

"That's my job." Conor positions his duffle bag on his shoulder. "Enjoy the seats, sis?"

"I did. Thank you."

"Landry can't get you any? Shouldn't you be in the wives and girlfriends' section?"

I bite down, and I think one of my teeth might crack. "I wanted to watch it with Dad."

"Good cover." He turns to our dad. "Want to go grab something to eat?"

"Um…" Dad glances in my direction.

I loop my arm though my dad's. "Sorry, he's spending tonight with his other child and her boyfriend. You're welcome to come if you can behave yourself and not throw a fit like a toddler." I smile sweetly at him.

"Come on, you two. This is ridiculous." Dad sighs.

"Maybe if your boyfriend understood the first rule of being a best friend, I could join you."

I inhale a calming breath. "He didn't know."

"Oh right. I forgot, Leigh , you let him fall for you, and then you told him. Oh no, wait…you waited until he found out himself."

I narrow my eyes. "He forgave me, so maybe you should too. And you should understand that there's this thing called free will, and you can't dictate what people can and can't do."

"I assume I'm interrupting," Rowan says, coming up behind me.

I slide my arm out of my dad's and wrap my arms around his neck, placing a big fat kiss on his lips. Take that, Conor.

Rowan takes my arms from around his neck and lowers them, staring over my shoulder. I assume at my brother. Oh, no, I am not going to act any differently for him.

Rowan puts his hand out in front of my dad. "It's nice to see you again, Mr. Nilsen."

Dad shakes his hand. "It was always Troy. No need for formalities just because you're dating Kyleigh."

Conor grunts, and Rowan looks at him.

Rowan slides his hand into mine. Thank goodness, I was worried for a moment.

"Pinkie, I'm heading out. You coming?" Tweetie hollers where he is down the hall with two girls at his side.

"Dad?" Conor raises his eyebrows.

"I'm gonna go to dinner with Kyleigh and Rowan. You go ahead."

Conor pats my dad on the back. "Thanks for coming. I'll call you tomorrow."

His eyes throw daggers at Rowan and me before he heads in Tweetie's direction.

"You can thank me later," Tweetie shouts at Rowan.

Rowan's gaze follows Conor. I hate to see the hurt in his blue eyes. Their friendship was important to him, and Conor's letting it go because of me.

"Where should we go?" Dad asks.

"I have a place I think you'll both like. Let me call to see if they can get us in." Rowan walks away with his cell phone to his ear.

"There's a lot of tension," my dad says under his breath. "It can't go on like this forever."

"Then talk to your son." I'm done with my brother's bullshit. I'm happy. I'm living my life, and I'm not going to stop because Conor thinks he knows better than me.

Rowan walks back over. "We're in. I called an Uber to take us."

"I like this treatment," my dad says.

I rise on my tiptoes and kiss Rowan's cheek. "Me too, Dad."

We go to the restaurant, and Rowan is charming and affectionate and wins my dad over easily. Then we head back to my place and make love. Life is great. Other than my jerk of a brother.