The Risk (Briar U #2)(121)

Annnd I’m getting way ahead of myself right now. First I need to convince her to take me back, and then we can worry about her moving to another country for me.

“Are you gonna talk to her after the game?” Hollis asks expectantly. “Or do we need to bring out a shotgun and—”

“Relax, you don’t have to make me talk to her at gunpoint,” I say with a chuckle.

“What?” His expression is puzzled. “I was going to say we’d clock you in the back of the head with the shotgun, knock some sense into you.”

I turn to Fitzgerald, who shrugs and says, “His brain operates on a level us mortals can’t comprehend.”

Hollis looks pleased. “Dude, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”





The unexpected visit from the Briar guys is nothing compared to the shock I receive when I leave the locker room to find a vending machine and instead find my parents standing in the corridor. For a moment I think I’m hallucinating, until my mom blurts out my name.

“Jake!” Relief floods her face. “You’re here? Rory, he’s already here.”

“I can see that,” Dad says dryly.

I shake my head in confusion, then glance over at Hazel, who’s next to my mother. She offers a slight smile, as if to say, Look what the cat dragged in, right?

“Yeah. I’m here. I showed up early.”

“Why weren’t you answering your phone?” Mom asks.

“I forgot it at home.” I stare at my parents. “Why are you guys here?”

“We came to support you,” Mom replies.

Dad claps me on the shoulder. “This is a big game for you. And if I’m being honest, your mother and I felt bad about not making more of an effort to attend your games. Now that you’ll be in the pros, your parents will be expected to make an appearance, right?”

“I don’t think anybody cares if some random rookie’s parents are in the box or not, Dad.”

“Random rookie?” he echoes. “No way!”

“You’re going to be a superstar,” Mom reminds me, a big smile on her face. “And we’re so very proud of you.”

My eyes suddenly feel hot. Damn it, I can’t tear up right now. Got a game to concentrate on.

“Thank you,” I say, and, yeah, my voice is a bit hoarse. I clear my throat. “I know you guys don’t care about hockey much, but I appreciate that you came today.”

“We might not be hockey fanatics, but we’re Jake fanatics,” Mom declares.

Hazel snorts. “That was so lame, Mrs. C.”

“We should take our seats,” Dad says. “It’s really filling up in there.”

“Good luck, sweetie,” Mom says.

I find myself enveloped in a warm bear hug, followed by a less dramatic but equally warm side hug from my dad.

“I’ll join you in a minute,” Hazel tells them. “I want to talk to Jake first.”

Once they’re gone, I raise a brow at my friend. “I can’t believe they came. Did you know about this?”

She nods. “Your mom called me to get them tickets. They wanted to surprise you.”

I slide my hands in my pockets and glance at the door behind me. The team will be arriving soon. “I should head back in and do my mental prep.”

“Cool.” Hazel seems to hesitate.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.” But her face is a bit pale, and when she smiles it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Have a good game, Jake.”





40





Jake





Returning to the locker room, I immediately feel centered. Strong. Motivated. Now that I know my parents will be in the stands cheering me on, I’m even more determined to play well.

I’m going to beat Michigan today, and afterwards I’m going to win Brenna back. I don’t care if I have to throw myself at her feet and beg. I’m getting my woman back.

Although the team’s uniforms and gear were brought here ahead of time, I always have my own equipment bag with me. It’s where I keep my spare hockey tape and other random gear, and I usually toss my bracelet in there. I pull the zipper open and rummage around in search of the familiar beads. But my fingers aren’t connecting with anything.

When memory strikes, it takes a second for the horror to settle in.

I loaned the bracelet to Brenna.

And then I broke up with her without getting it back.

Fuck.

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

In the back of my mind, an angry voice is demanding to know why she hadn’t contacted me in the three days since we saw each other to remind me she still has it. She knows how important it is to me and she couldn’t be bothered to make a phone call? It wouldn’t have even required seeing me. I could’ve sent Weston to pick it up.

But Mike Hollis said her heart was broken. And I’m the one who broke it. Of course she’s not going out of her way to do me a solid.

Panic swirls in my gut, and I take a series of deep breaths. Force myself calm down. It’s just a fucking bracelet. I don’t need a child’s bracelet to win this game. A bracelet didn’t get us to the regionals. A bracelet didn’t get me drafted by the Oilers. A bracelet didn’t— “Jake.”