I Want You Back (Want You #1)(97)

I groaned. “I’m sorry.”

“You were a kid. Kids are the most self-involved creatures on the planet.”

“I’m sorry that I grew up to be a self-involved man.” I released a slow breath as she studied me. “You’ve just rolled with everything I’ve done, or not done. Been beside me every step of the way, even through the rockiest parts, and I know I don’t say it often enough, but thank you. I want to be the kind of parent to Mimi that you’ve always been to me. The kind of parent you still are to me.” I smiled. “You are the very, very best mom in the whole entire universe, and I love you more than Christmas.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she lightly tapped my cheeks. “That’s for making me cry. And I still have that card with the effusive praise you made me when you were ten.” She smirked. “I had to take it out every couple of months and reread it during your teen years just to remind myself that my sweet child did exist somewhere inside the sulky, stinky teenage boy.”

I laughed.

“Don’t worry about Mimi. She’ll be fine with Grandpa and me. It’s you I worry about.” Her eyes searched mine. “How long has it been?”

Since I’ve had a drink?

Since I’ve had sex?

Mom clucked her tongue because apparently she’d read my mind. “Not those things, son. How long since you’ve played?”

And she knew. She always did.

“Months. It’s not like I have anyone I can play with.”

“Go to the rink and suit up anyway.”

“Mom—”

“You’re missing that part of who you are, Jax. Of who you’ve always been. Reconnect with it even if it’s just skating by yourself as you pretend the Red Wings are on your tail and shooting pucks like you’re on a breakaway in game seven of the semifinals.”

Once again, she’d nailed exactly what I needed. “I hate that you’re always right.”

She laughed. “I know.”

When she reached the elevator, she turned. “Text me the five W’s as soon as you’ve figured it out so I don’t worry.”

Some things never changed; Mom demanding the five W’s—our family code for who, what, when, where, why—before she and Dad let me or Nolan leave the house.

“I will. And, Mom? Thanks.”

As soon as she was gone, I picked up my phone and checked the Lakeside app to see if there was free ice.

Then I realized after Thursday’s meeting I could demand ice time whenever the hell I felt like it. Luckily I wouldn’t have to do that today. Two hours from now the rink would be empty, and I couldn’t wait to be on it.



* * *



? ? ?

I told Margene to lock the door after she left for the night.

I skated onto the ice, warming up stiff muscles. Breathing in that familiar scent of cold. Hearing the scrape of my skates and the overhead blowers.

In all the Saturday nights I’d spent in ice arenas, it’d never been like this: just me.

Playing hockey with yourself isn’t as fun as playing with a team or even one-on-one. But playing hockey with myself was better than not playing hockey at all. I ran speed drills, forward and backward. I shot the puck across the blue line and chased it down. I nailed a couple of slap shots and wristers. I used the posts to bank it in. With each shot on goal I felt the tension leaving me, along with massive perspiration.

I took a breather and drained a bottle of water. When I faced the ice, another skater had joined me.

What the fuck?

Gabi removed her helmet and smirked at me. “You like playing with yourself, Stonewall?”

I shrugged. “It’s the only time I have decent competition.”

“Ooh. Burn. Prove it. Let’s play a little one-on-one and see who comes out on top.”

“You don’t wanna play with me, Welk.”

She skated away from me backward, toward center ice. “Sure I do. That’s why I’m out here and suited up.” She popped her helmet back on. “Unless you’re afraid of being shown up by a woman.”

“In your dreams, North Dakota,” I retorted. “I’m not playing you. I’d squash you like a bug.”

Stick in hand, she gestured to the empty arena. “No one here but us. Wait. What’s that I hear?” She pretended to cock her head. “Is that . . . clucking?”

Oh hell no.

I reached her before she made a single cluck. “Fair warning that I won’t go easy on you because you’re a girl.”

“Fair warning that I won’t go easy on you because you’re an overconfident male.”

I held the puck out, she slapped it out of my hand and she immediately controlled it.

But I caught her and forced her away from the net with a shoulder shove, flipping the puck outside of my blade, pushing it forward as I raced to the other goal.

Gabi caught me on the left side, stealing the puck and skating around the backside of the net, coming out on the right along the boards.

I bodychecked her. Not full strength, but enough to knock the puck lose.

That hit didn’t even faze her.

The little shit reached the puck before I did and whizzed around the backside again, coming forward in a zigzag pattern. I blocked her first shot, snagged the puck and cut her off as I zipped down center ice, and took the slap shot.