I Want You Back

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I Want You Back Page 14

by Lorelei James


  “Find out what?”

  “Find out that I bought the top floor of this building and over the past few months it’s been modified into one apartment, which I will move into as soon as it’s done.”

  I was so stunned by this turn of events that I couldn’t speak. I just stared at him. With my jaw nearly hitting the coffee table.

  “Come on, Luce. You had to know that I wouldn’t live at Snow Village permanently.”

  “A, I didn’t know that. B, who does this kind of shit? Buys a goddamned penthouse apartment in the same building that your baby mama and kid live in?”

  “You are far more to me than just an ex-girlfriend, and I’ve never called you my baby mama. Ever.”

  Then why didn’t you tell me? Why are you still full of so many secrets, Jaxson Lund? How am I ever supposed to trust you fully?

  I swallowed yet another ball of anger. “How long have you hidden this from me?”

  “Not everything is about you,” he snapped. “I did this so I could be closer to Mimi.”

  “Answer. The. Question. How. Long?”

  “Since I announced my retirement.”

  I started laughing. “Omigod. Your whole ‘I was in the neighborhood’ excuse when you just popped by wasn’t a lie. You really were in the building, aka the neighborhood, checking on the progress of your remodel.”

  “This is a good thing for all of us. I’ll be three floors away whenever you need me, not four miles.”

  “It’ll definitely be handier for you to keep Mimi at your fancy penthouse apartment every night since you’ll have to wake her up at the crack of dawn for hockey practice every morning.”

  He hissed in a breath. “Low blow.”

  “Why are you upending my life like this?”

  “Your life?” he repeated. “What about my life? I’m doing everything I can to be an everyday part of our daughter’s life, and you are blocking me at every turn!”

  Four rapid knocks sounded on the door.

  Jax and I both froze.

  Before either of us moved, we heard the locks unclicking in the foyer, and then Nolan came around the corner, holding Mimi’s hand, with her hiding behind him.

  Mimi. Crap. We’d forgotten she was awake, in her room, listening to every ugly word her father and I spewed at each other.

  Jaxson and I exchanged a look of horror and then shame.

  “Those guilty looks are too little, too late,” Nolan gritted out through his teeth. “Your seriously immature, seriously uncool display scared your child. I could hear the two of you yelling outside the apartment. Be thankful that she called me and not the police or you’d be talking your way out of a domestic disturbance charge.”

  I felt absolutely sick.

  Jaxson’s expression mirrored mine.

  “Mimi. Honey.” I started toward her, and she hid her face from me, making me feel a hundred times worse.

  “Meems needs a break, so she’s spending the night with me,” Nolan said. “Then we’re having brunch with Grandma and Grandpa and the rest of the Lund family tomorrow at noon.” His hard, angry gaze moved between us. “I don’t want to hear from either of you until you’ve figured this out like the responsible adults you’re supposed to be.” He picked up Mimi’s bag, and they were out the door before either of us moved.

  I’m not a crier. But I burst into tears anyway.

  Then the last person I wanted comfort from was right there, wrapping me in his arms.

  I fought him. “Let me go.”

  “Like hell. I need this just as much as you do right now.”

  I stopped fighting him. I was so damn tired of fighting with him. I just clung to him and sobbed and he let me.

  I cried out of guilt. Out of anger. Out of frustration. Out of confusion. Out of embarrassment.

  When I had nothing left except my stuttering breath, Jax gently tipped my head back and studied me. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  “Let’s never do that to her again.”

  “Okay.”

  “Can we take five minutes to regroup and then start this discussion over?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Jax pressed his lips to my forehead, released me and wandered into the kitchen.

  I hadn’t forgotten how volatile things could be between us.

  But I had forgotten how quickly he could soothe me when I let him.

  In the bathroom I soaked a washcloth in cold water and pressed it to my face, welcoming the refreshing coolness against my tight skin. But with my eyes closed, my thoughts returned to Jax’s favorite way to deal with conflict resolution, but no way was banging the hell out of each other until we were breathless and too spent to fight an option tonight.

  Eight

  JAX

  After Lucy emerged from her room, I patted the spot on the sofa beside me. “Have a seat.”

  Lucy, being contrary Lucy, skirted the sofa, putting it between us. “Do you want a soda or water or something?”

  “I’ll take a soda.”

  She disappeared into the kitchen, and I let my head fall back onto the couch cushion.

  I felt like I’d swallowed an anvil. A big anvil. A big, rusty anvil that scraped my throat, squeezed the breath from my lungs and settled in my gut, until my gut started churning and then it spun around and around, reminding me of its heavy, gouging presence.

  How had I—we—forgotten that Mimi was with us? The look on her face . . .

  The rusty anvil did another quick spin that made me want to hurl.

  Lucy returned with two cans of Diet Mountain Dew and parked herself on the sofa, facing me, sitting crossways.

  “What fun thing should we address first?” I asked before taking a sip of soda.

  She blinked at me, almost like she was in shock.

  Guess this would fall on me to start. “Back to the first discussion. Mimi’s claim she wants to play hockey.”

  “Claim?” she repeated.

  “It may not interest her after she learns that hockey is about ten percent game time and ninety percent practice. Or in some kids’ cases, ninety percent practice and ten percent waiting for the coach to finally let them play for thirty seconds.” I paused and looked at her.

  “I’m listening.”

  “From what I understand, youth hockey has changed drastically since I was a kid. And I’m not just talking about the fact the hockey club I belonged to didn’t have a single girls’ team. I’d like to claim I paid attention to that type of stuff so you’d consider me somewhat enlightened, but the truth is, I didn’t. I played with girls in the peewee leagues, but by the time it was decided that I had the skills for club hockey . . . no girls were around.”

  “I’m no more enlightened on the subject than you are, Jax. I didn’t even pay attention to your hockey games, let alone anyone else’s.”

  That stung, but I wasn’t surprised. During the time we were together, she’d attended maybe half a dozen games. “The popularity of hockey has spawned lots of new opportunities for female players, on both the recreational and the competitive sides. I’m not sure how the groups are divided except that the players are still grouped by their ages.”

  “Let’s say I agree to let Mimi try it. Would she have practice every day? Games every weekend?”

  “Not at her age. After she’s passed the basic skills class, and if she still likes it, then I’d suggest we put her in a recreational hockey program.” That went against everything I’d had beaten into my head as a young player, but this wasn’t about me.

  Lucy frowned. “Recreational instead of . . . ?”

  “Recreational games usually take place at community centers, where everyone gets a chance to play. Unlike club hockey, where you have to audition first and then you pay to play.”

  “That doesn’t sound too bad. But if every
one can play, then do you know if they separate boys and girls?”

  I shrugged. “Some organizations do, some don’t; it depends on the enrollment. But regardless if she’s playing in a mixed league, she’d be playing with boys her age. Even in a recreational setting, an eight-year-old girl won’t be playing against a twelve-year-old boy. USA Hockey is very strict about that.”

  A look of relief crossed her face.

  “To be honest, Luce, I don’t know if they play actual league games at her age. Some programs focus on hockey basics. Learning about the different positions, stickhandling, skating. I remember hearing that some places don’t even introduce the puck until midway through the season.”

  “How would that work if she wanted to be a goalie? She’d have to sit on the bench for half of the season? How is that fair?”

  On the outside I merely smiled. On the inside I grinned like a damn fool. I had her. Lucy was this close to saying yes to letting Mimi try hockey if she was already worried about the fairness of ice time. “There are enough options in the Twin Cities that I wouldn’t choose a venue or coaching staff that had that criteria. There’s something to be said for playing it safe, but playing slow . . . that’s not what hockey is about. Puck handling is the single most important skill she needs to master. Besides skating.”

  Lucy sighed. “Spoken like the pro athlete you are.”

  “Like the pro athlete I was,” I reminded her.

  Then awkward silence hung between us.

  I let it. Lucy needed to come to terms with this on her own. I’d given her the information; I wasn’t about to beg or badger her as she silently weighed pros and cons.

  No idea how much time passed before I noticed she was about to crush her soda can between her hands, so I gently removed it from her grasp, set the can on the coffee table and took her shaking hands in mine. “Talk to me, Lucy Q. Like you used to. From that big heart of yours.”

  “I’m scared.” She squeezed my hands. “For all of the reasons I mentioned during our discussion. And . . .”

  “And what?”

  “I’m afraid that she’ll love it. There’s no doubt in my mind she’ll excel at hockey, because we both know she’s ridiculously athletic. So I worry that she’ll try it, love it and become obsessed with it, like you were. Her entire focus will be on hockey, and all traces of my Mimi, the child I’ve nurtured for eight years, will be gone.”

  Fuck. She could knock my legs right out from under me even without a damn stick in her hand. “Lucy. We can’t know anything about how she’ll react until we give her the chance to try it.”

  She looked down at our joined hands, but not before I saw the tears in her eyes. “I know. It’s so freaking stupid, but right now, that’s the thing that’s stopping me from saying yes. Not that I’ll lose her to you, but I’ll lose her to hockey.”

  “Aw, baby, come here.”

  “Jax—”

  “Come. Here.” I tugged her to my chest and she came willingly.

  All the harsh words from earlier vanished. We hadn’t been this physically close since before Mimi was born, but we fit together like we hadn’t been apart. Like our bodies knew what to do even when our heads and hearts hesitated.

  After a few moments, she spoke. “Hockey was already your life when we met, Jax. You never pretended I would come first, because hockey had claimed you first. It might be hard to believe, but I never begrudged you doing something you loved, especially when you were so good at it. I can’t claim that I was proud of you, because I had nothing to do with you reaching the highest level of the game. But with Mimi . . . it’d be different. I’d be invested. I’d have to be just as supportive as if she’d chosen to pursue ballet.”

  “Are you afraid you can’t be supportive?”

  “Maybe. I’ve never excelled at anything. That’s not me fishing for a compliment. I’m just making an observation that while I know it takes hard work and dedication to become an elite athlete, I’ve never seen what it takes from the beginning.”

  “You’re putting the cart before the horse. There’s no guarantee she’ll love it to the point she wants to devote her life to mastering it. It may end up being a fun outlet for her, nothing more.”

  “Was it fun for you?”

  “Without question. Even a shitty day in the rink was better than a day not being on the ice.”

  “Be honest, Jaxson ‘Stonewall’ Lund. Do you really believe there’s a chance she’ll suck at this?”

  “That’s less likely than her hating it because she’s my kid and everyone will expect more out of her than they would other kids, and the pressure will be too much.”

  “You’ve seen this happen with your hockey buddies’ kids?”

  I paused. “No, actually I saw it with my cousin Ash. His dad—my uncle Monte—was a basketball phenomenon. Broke all kinds of state high school records, and like LeBron—years and years before LeBron—he opted to go straight into the NBA right after high school. He didn’t last more than a few years, but he talked about it so much that from an early age Ash was determined to be a basketball player. And he was an outstanding player, on track to be better than his dad. It confused the hell out of everyone when Ash refused to try out for any college hoops program during his senior year of high school. He told his family that he’d had enough and he wanted to prove to himself that he had other skills besides ballhandling.”

  “Wow. I had no idea.”

  “It’s not something he talks about. But the same thing could happen to Mimi. She likes it for a while, has some success and decides it’s not for her and she wants to explore other options.” I sighed. “Look. We can go round and round with this speculation, but it’s pointless to dissect potential outcomes until she takes that first class.”

  “Okay. She’s got my support to give it a try.” Lucy turned her head and looked up at me. “Promise me we’ll keep a united front.”

  “I promise.”

  “Promise that you won’t get super annoyed with me if I ask a bunch of newb questions.”

  “I promise.”

  “Promise you won’t hide her injuries from me, no matter how inconsequential you think they are.”

  “I promise.”

  “Promise that you’ll—”

  “Lucy. Stop. I give you my word that I’ll never shut you out. We’re partners in this parenting gig. Remember?”

  “I remember.”

  The way her gaze searched my face, she seemed to be trying to remember a lot more. “What?”

  “Sometimes Mimi gets this look in her eyes that is so you, Jax. And then she stands a certain way and it’s you all over again.”

  I waited.

  “You’ve been out of her daily life for most of her life, so it’s been easy to forget she gets half of her DNA from you, and easier yet to consider her just mine. But you being here now . . . I’m grateful. She needs you. And that’s a phrase I never thought I’d say.”

  Keeping quiet was my best option, but I felt fidgety. I pushed a hank of glossy hair over her shoulder and skimmed my hand down her bicep. “It’s one I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you.”

  “I’d convinced myself I could fulfill both parental roles, given the fact my mother had done that too. But I can’t.” She paused. “The real truth is I don’t want to.”

  “You shouldn’t have to. But that’s a moot point now.”

  “I know.”

  “I never wanted you to compare me to your dad—although I realize there are similarities between our actions.”

  Lucy lowered her head and pressed her cheek into my chest again. “Are we really ready to talk about our past?”

  That anvil in my belly took another sharp turn. “I am. If you’d like to get resituated—”

  “No. This is better.”

  Because she wouldn’t have to look me in the eyes while we talked
.

  “So where do we start?” she asked quietly.

  “With my apology. Again. And again, and again, and again.” I plucked her hand off my chest and kissed her knuckles. “Christ, Luce, I don’t know if I can ever say sorry enough times so you’ll ever believe that I mean it every single time.”

  “Jax—”

  “And I don’t know that I ever said thank you for setting aside our differences and listening to me when I told you about my time at Hazelden.”

  “That surprised me.”

  “What surprised you? That I acknowledged my problem with alcohol and sought help? Or that I told you I’d spent six weeks in rehab?”

  “Both, actually.” She paused. “Right after Annika hired me at LI, Nolan came to see me.”

  My gut clenched. “Did he give you a heads-up about the changes in my life?”

  “No. He apologized for being a tool and said that he never should’ve blindly believed things you told him about me.”

  I had no response.

  So Lucy kept talking. “I could’ve relied on your parents and Nolan for help with Mimi. But I’ve been in Nolan’s place, where you hero worship your sibling and feel there’s no choice but to throw your support behind them no matter the situation.”

  “That’s happened with you and Lindsey?”

  She nodded. “Linds started dating that dirtbag Gene about the same time I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t know him; I didn’t like how he treated my sister. After it became apparent I’d be doing the single-parent thing, he started telling me what to do, using Lindsey as his megaphone. She’d never been the type to say, ‘Sue him, make a big public deal about the Lund billionaire heir and superstar hockey player cheating on you during your pregnancy and then abandoning you and his newborn baby. That’s guaranteed to set you up for life.’ Yet that’s exactly the action Lindsey kept pushing me to take.”

  My breath stalled. She’d never mentioned any of this to me.

  “What really sucked? I’d lost both my confidants. You . . . for obvious reasons, and Lindsey because anything I said to her about my frustrations with trying to make it as a single parent, she repeated right back to him. Then I’d get more helpful advice, which I didn’t need from the dickwad.”

 

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