Him (Him #1)(88)

I have to admit I was terrified to meet Jamie’s family. I mean, I already know they’re good people. But a father and three older brothers? I had this nagging fear they’d hate me just on principle. You know, for being the guy who’s f*cking their baby boy.

But Jamie’s dad has been great, and I’ve already met Scott, who’s staying here at the house. The three of us went out for beers at a sports bar last night, and when the highlights from the previous night’s games played on the TV screens, Scott had clapped his hands against the table and shouted, “That’s my brother!” every time I skated into view. And when the goal I scored late in the second flashed on the screen? Jamie and Scott went nuts.

Yup, my first ever NHL goal. I’m still f*cking ecstatic about it. This past month, I’ve been seeing more and more playing time, and last night was a record for me—twelve minutes of ice time, and a goal for my efforts. Life is good.

So good, in fact, I’m feeling more generous than usual, which is why I slide off my stool and say, “Will you excuse me for a moment? I need to call my folks to wish them a happy Thanksgiving.”

Jamie’s mother beams at me. “Aw, that’s so sweet of you. Go ahead.”

I duck out and fish my phone out of my pocket. Fuck, I’m even smiling as I dial my parents’ number in Boston. The smile fades fast, however. It always does when I hear my father’s voice.

“Hey, Dad,” I say gruffly. “Is this a good time?”

“Actually, it isn’t. Your mother and I are on our way out. We have reservations at six.”

Of course they do. The only time my family held a Thanksgiving dinner at home was the year the president of my dad’s brokerage firm was going through a divorce. The guy had nowhere to go, so he invited himself over to our place, and my mother hired a gourmet caterer to cook a f*cking banquet for us.

“What did you want, Ryan?” he asks briskly.

“I…just wanted to say Happy Thanksgiving,” I mumble.

“Oh. Well, thank you. Same to you, son.”

He disconnects the call. Without even putting my mother on the line. Then again, he speaks for both of them.

I stare at the phone long after he hangs up, wondering what I did in another life to lose so royally in the parent lottery. But the depressing thought doesn’t have time to take root, because the front door suddenly flies open and I’m assaulted with noise.

Footsteps. Voices. Loud laughter and happy squeals. It sounds like an entire platoon has marched into the house. Which is pretty much the case, because holy shit, Jamie’s family is huge.

I feel an unfamiliar surge of nerves in my chest.

Within seconds, I’m surrounded, being yanked in all directions and hugged by people I’ve never met in my life. Introductions fly around, but I can barely keep up with the names. I’m too busy answering all the questions being hurled my way like slapshots.

“Did Jamester give you a tour of the house?” Yes.

“Has Mom shown you the pictures from the Halloween when Jamie dressed up as an eggplant?” No, but that should be corrected immediately.

“Do you get a monetary bonus every time you score a goal?” Um...

“Are you in love with my brother?”

“Tammy!” Jamie sputters as his older sister voices that last question.

I look up and find him in the mob, and it’s like the sun just came out. It’s only been an hour since I saw him last, but he has the same damn effect on me every time.

I used to fight my reaction to him, but I don’t have to anymore. And that’s more shocking than the way his family seems ready to embrace the complete stranger who’s shacking up with their brother. Unless they’re just really good actors.

Jamie slips between his siblings and slings his arm around my shoulder. “Leave the poor guy alone, will ya? He just got here yesterday.”

His brother Joe snorts. “You think we’re gonna go easy on him because he’s only been here a day? Have you met us?”

Jess wiggles her way between me and Jamie and links her arm through mine. “Come on, Wes, let’s get you a drink. I find it’s easier to tolerate these dum-dums when you’re drunk.”

I snicker as she drags me toward the dining room, but Jamie’s mom calls out from the kitchen just as we pass by. “Jessica, I need Wes! Jamie, too. You can raid the liquor cabinet later.”

“I wasn’t going to raid the—” Jess stops abruptly and turns to me, heaving a defeated sigh. “I swear that woman is a mind reader.”

I find myself being ushered into the kitchen again, except this time Jamie is by my side. As his mom gestures for us to wait, he brings his mouth close to my ear and says, “Are we having fun yet?”

“Yes,” I say truthfully. Because f*ck, the Canning clan has been great. Maybe I can stop worrying so much. Maybe there’s one corner of the world where I don’t have to prove myself all the time. Okay—two corners. Because life in a certain Toronto condo is going really well, too.

“Okay, boys, here’s your housewarming present.”

I look up to see Jamie’s mom setting two gift boxes on the counter. One says “Jamie” on the tag and the other “Ryan.”

“Aw,” Jamie says. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“My last bird has flown out of the nest.” Cindy sighs. “If I can’t see your apartment, at least I can give you a little something for it.”