Marek (Cold Fury Hockey #11)(41)
Marek hands over a bottle of beer to me. “Here you go.”
“I wanted water,” I remind him.
His answering grin is mockingly mischievous. “Come on, Gracie. A single beer won’t kill you, and besides, it’s one of your favorites. Especially in the summertime.”
My lips tug upward into a small smile as I take in the green bottle of Rolling Rock. He remembered a tiny detail about me and it ridiculously makes me want to cry. I swallow hard and take the beer from him. “Fine. One beer.”
* * *
—
Coach Pretore’s basement is massive and split into several rooms that flow into one another with wide arched openings in between. I lean my shoulder against the edge of just such an opening that traverses the large TV room with stadium seating and the next room over, which has a billiard table, an air hockey table, and an ornate poker table that seats eight. Just past that room, there’s an actual bar in the next one over, with a massive, U-shaped wooden structure complete with barstools and a brass railing along the bottom to rest your feet on. He’s currently got two bartenders working it.
I’d slipped away a few minutes ago from Josie and Reed to come check on Lilly. I have no clue where Marek is, as he’d wandered off in search of more food. I was a little grateful for it too, because things got a little awkward a few times when Marek introduced me to people. He’d say, “This is Gracen…Lilly’s mom.”
Then I’d in turn get a smile followed by some flicker of morbid curiosity in their eyes. I could actually see it. Wondering about me and how I could keep Lilly away from Marek.
The worst was when Holt Craig came up. He played one year at Boston College with Marek before he went pro, and he gave me a warm hug. But his tone held a little bit of censure when he said, “Gracen, can’t believe you’re a mom. And wow, what a shock to Marek, right?”
I knew he generally wasn’t being mean about it, but let’s face it. The people in this house are Marek’s family of sorts. It goes without saying they’re probably not liking me very much.
The stadium seats of the media room go back four rows, and Lilly is in the first row, sharing a plush, deep reclining chair with who I assume is Jules’s daughter, Annabelle. Many of the other chairs are filled with kids and some of the parents, everyone watching the magician finishing up his act.
My eyes are for Lilly alone, though. She’s never seen a magician, but she understands the concept of magic from movies like Cinderella and Frozen. She runs around all the time saying, “Bibbity, bobbity, boo.”
Right now her eyes are wide and staring with wonder and slight disbelief as the magician throws a bright colorful scarf over an empty birdcage. After waving his magic wand, he pulls the scarf off with flourish and the kids all squeal with excitement to see a white bird in there. Lilly’s smile is as big as the sun, and she and Annabelle giggle hysterically.
“Brought you another beer,” I hear Marek say behind me just as he reaches over my shoulder and dangles another bottle of Rolling Rock in front of me.
I turn to look over my shoulder at him, giving a wry smile. “No, thanks.”
I expect him to push me, because that’s what the Marek of five years ago would have done. He would have thrown all his charm and mischief at me. He’s the man who would talk me into getting hammered with him on the night of an important exam. He was always incorrigible when it came to responsibility.
Instead, he bends his head down so his mouth is near my ear. He lowers the bottle of beer he’d been waving in front of my face. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
I jolt, and again crane my head to look at him curiously. “Sorry about what?”
“Holt,” he says, as if that explains everything. And it does. I know what he’s talking about, but still he clarifies. “When I told the team about Lilly, I didn’t give any details about the situation. Mostly no one here knows anything, so I’m guessing they just think the worst.”
“It can’t get any worse than the truth of it,” I tell Marek softly as I turn away to watch Lilly again. “You should just tell them.”
“It’s no one’s business,” Marek says. I can feel the heat of his body, as he’s standing so close behind me, and it makes me feel a little heady. “But I need to do something to explain.”
“No, you don’t,” I manage to rasp out, not sure if my inability to form words is because of the subject matter we’re discussing or because he’s standing just too damn close to me.
My knees almost buckle when I feel Marek’s finger at my collarbone and he pulls my hair away from my shoulder. He leans down and talks ever so softly into my ear. “You’re right. Maybe I don’t need to explain, but I don’t have any qualms about telling everyone what a fantastic mother you are. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that. Thank you for doing such a great job with Lilly.”
This time I have better control of my body. I hold myself up, although my eyes close for a brief moment of bliss from the compliment Marek just handed me. Not only is it important given how rotten he’s been in the past, but since Lilly is the biggest achievement in my life, the validation feels fucking amazing.
“Come on, Gracie,” he murmurs, and this time his voice is softer. More seductive. “Have another beer. Relax and cut loose a little.”