Destiny on Ice (Boys of Winter #1)(68)

“When can my father have this surgery?” I ask.

“Day after tomorrow,” the surgeon replies.

“That’s Christmas Eve.”

“Yes, it is. We’ll schedule Mr. Oliver for the first surgery that morning.”

Mom sighs, relieved I’m sure that help is on the way. I, however, remain unsettled.

When Mom returns to Dad’s room, I wait out in the hall. I don’t want my father seeing me messed up like I am right now.

“Fuck,” I hiss under my breath.

I feel so damn alone. I need someone to talk to. If I could just share all the fear I’m feeling I might be okay. But I can’t put this on my mother; she has enough to bear. If Aubrey were still my girlfriend I’d lean on her.

Shit, I wish she were here. I could use her style of comforting. She’d tell me everything is going to be okay, and she’d make it feel like it really would be. That’s how she made me believe in myself. Well that and the occasional kick in the ass.

Mom comes back out of Dad’s room and informs me he’s sleeping and that she’s going to grab a coffee since it promises to be a long night.

Eyeing me intently, her eyes the same color as mine, she says softly, “Can I talk to you about something, Brent?”

I nod. “Of course, Mom.”

She gestures to a row of vending machines down the hall, beckoning for me to follow. “Come. Walk with me.”

As we walk, she asks me about Aubrey. “Why isn’t she here with you, honey?”

I never told my parents that we’re finished. The plan was that after we spent Christmas with the Shelburnes, we were to come up here to Minnesota. I only told my mom that plans had changed. I never specified why.

I have no choice now but to fess up now. “Mom, Aubrey and I are done.”

My wise mother retorts, “From that tone, it doesn’t sound like you’re done.”

We stop, and she levels me with a single look—you know that look, the one only moms can give to make you feel about two inches tall.

“Mom,” I begin, sighing. “Aubrey doesn’t want me, okay? But it’s all my fault. I screwed up big time.”

“So fix it,” she says. “Relationships are messy things, Brent. It’s not all good times and happy days. Look at what’s happening with your father right now.”

“That’s totally different,” I counter. “Dad’s sick. Aubrey left me. Though, like I said, she had a good reason.”

“Brent, whatever happened between you two, it’s just a different kind of adversity. How we handle the bad things in life is what defines us.” She pauses, then asks, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you love Aubrey?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Then go get her, son. Tell her what’s happening. Let her know that you need her. If she loves you, she’ll forgive whatever happened enough to come back to Minnesota with you. She should be here with you for your father’s surgery. You can figure out everything else later.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” I murmur, thinking of the addendum in that f*cking contract.

“It’s as complicated as you make it,” Mom says. “Go get your girl, Brent.”

She’s right.

To hell with the contract. To hell with the team and their ridiculous demands. My dad is sick, and I need Aubrey. Damn it, I love Aubrey. And I don’t want to spend another day without her.

It’s time to do what Mom just suggested. It’s something I should have done from the start.

It’s time to go get my girl.





A Surprise Arrival





My damn stubborn sister won’t leave me alone for the holiday. At my parents’ insistence, Lainey arrives at my townhouse two days before Christmas.

“No more pouting,” she declares not five minutes after walking through the door. “Look at this place.” She gestures around wildly. “You don’t even have a tree. Mr. Whiskey Eyes may be gone from your life, but that doesn’t mean life is over.”

That’s debatable.

“I should never have told you we broke up,” I complain as she drags me up to the shower.

She turns on the water, and I sit down on the closed toilet seat.

“Look, Aubrey.” She points to the pulsating flow coming from the shower head. It does look inviting. “This is water. It’ll make you clean. All you need to do is stand under that little nozzle thing. Maybe even add a little soap, and watch the magic happen.”

“Ha-ha. Smartass,” I retort, though I do grudgingly give her a smile.

I haven’t showered in days, but Lainey has me considering it.

When she heads for the door to leave me alone, it’s not without a warning. “I’m checking back in here in five minutes. You better be in that shower, Aubrey, or I swear I will drag your ass in there.”

We’re about the same height and weight, so she may be able to take me. Worried that my little sis might actually beat my ass, I put up my hands and say, “Okay, okay.”

I stand and tug my Wolves sweatshirt over my head, leaving me in an old ratty bra and sweatpants, my uniform of late. I toss the shirt at my sister and, catching it, she says, “I didn’t know you were a hockey fan. Oh, wait.” She turns it over. “This is for that team out in Las Vegas.”