“Okay,” my sister said. “Let’s do lunch and then I’ll walk you to your afternoon class. I assume your hockey hunk can take you over there this morning.”
When I looked over at Kian, he nodded.
“I’m outtie,” my sister said dramatically as she headed toward the door. “Later.”
As soon as the door closed and I was sure my sister was out of earshot, I turned to Kian. “Is everything okay?”
He ran his thumb down the side of my face. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you and I’m afraid to find out.”
“I’ll be okay,” I tried to reassure him even though I wasn’t sure at all. Blake scared me. Not only did he come across as creepy, he also seemed entitled and used to getting what he wanted. I didn’t like being the object of what seemed to be an ever increasing obsession on his part.
Fifteen
Kian
The next few weeks were a blur of road trips and spending every free moment I had with my Princess. Every time I was with her, I kept thinking it was a dream and that I’d wake up and she’d disappear.
I didn’t ever want the dream to end.
Being with Taylor was like being with the other half of me that I never knew was missing until I met her. We fit together perfectly. She made me feel things I never imagined feeling. I never thought anyone would ever love me, or could ever love me, until I met Taylor. And her love was so pure and selfless and she gave it so freely.
I wanted to tell Taylor that I loved her but the words would never come out of my mouth. I thought about it constantly, whenever we were together. She’d tell me all the time how much she loved me and how much I meant to her. She had no trouble expressing her feelings and I envied that. I hated myself for not being able to tell her how I felt about her. Truth be told it scared the living shit out of me. But it never seemed to bother her that I didn’t tell her how much I loved her. It was like she just knew and she didn’t need to hear it. At least that’s what I kept telling myself. I tried to show her in every way I could but it never felt like enough.
I guess a big part of me still didn’t feel like I deserved to be with her. I felt like I was living on borrowed time and one day she would realize that I wasn’t good enough for her and she’d leave me in the dust. What she didn’t know and what I would never tell her was that I would give anything to have her and I would do anything to keep her. I would make any sacrifice, including my hockey career, if it meant being with her. I knew she would never let me give up my career for her but I would, in a heartbeat.
And the sex—holy hell. The sex just kept getting better. I never thought it was possible to be with the same person so much and so often and for it to be so good all the time. It was like we were made for each other. I couldn’t get enough of her. I was utterly insatiable when it came to being with Taylor Thompson.
Zelda and I did our best to make sure she was never alone on campus. I did see the prick a few times but he kept his distance. Zelda said he was still talking shit about Taylor whenever she saw him, which pissed me off. I hoped he was more talk than action because I really didn’t want to have to hurt him.
Who am I kidding? I wanted him to give me an excuse to beat the shit out of him.
One day, when I was walking Taylor to class, I noticed she was carrying some flyers.
“What are those,” I asked pointing at the small stack she held in her hand.
She held the stack up so I could see what they said. “Every year my family gets local supermarkets to donate food for needy families for Thanksgiving and we solicit volunteers to help us deliver them the day before Thanksgiving.”
I could feel my face start to heat with embarrassment at the mention of the holiday. My family could have been one of those needy families if my mom didn’t live so far off the radar that social services agencies didn’t even know about us. I wanted to change the topic before she asked me any questions about Thanksgiving. I didn’t want to admit that I’d never had an actual Thanksgiving meal. My mom was usually too drunk to even know it was Thanksgiving and the bar she frequented was usually open, so she had no reason to think it was a holiday. Since we were teenagers, Runt and I would get take-out Chinese food and play video games all day and that’s how we spent turkey day.
Runt already told me that Shawna invited him to her step-dad’s house for the day so this would be the first year that I’d be flying solo.
I couldn’t help but tense when Taylor asked, “So, do you have plans for Thanksgiving?”
I froze and I wasn’t sure what to say so I just shrugged.
She looked shocked. “You don’t know?”
“Nah,” I tried to say as casually as I could but my insides felt like they were being tied in knots. I so didn’t want to be having this conversation.
“Aren’t you going to spend the day with your mom?” she asked quietly, as if she was unsure it was the right question to ask.
I actually laughed. “In a bar? I don’t think so.”
Taylor looked down and seemed to be mortified by my response and I immediately felt like a complete asshole. I put my fingers under her chin and lifted it so that her eyes met mine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to respond like that. I’ve told you a little about my background and I want to spare you most of the sordid details. My mom is an alcoholic and drug addict and she has been for a long time. She’ll probably be spending Thanksgiving at the corner bar like she has every other Thanksgiving that I can remember.”
I could see her eyes were starting to get wet and she was trying to blink back the tears.
“What about your dad?” she asked her voice breaking.
“The last time anyone heard from my dad he was in prison for the sale and distribution of narcotics. He could be dead by now. I don’t really know.”
“I’m sorry,” she barely squeaked out before she broke down in sobs.
I pulled her close and held her in my arms. “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” I whispered. “How can you possibly feel sorry for a guy who has the most loving and caring and absolutely beautiful girlfriend in the entire world?”
At least that got her to smile a little but I could still see the sadness in her eyes. She was sad for me and for the shitty life I had growing up and I didn’t like it. I didn’t want her to be sad about that.
I tried to kiss away the tears that were falling down her cheeks and that got me another little smile. But I wanted one of her really big smiles. One of the smiles that lit up the world around her. I knew if I told her that I loved her, I would get one. But I still couldn’t get those three words to come out of my mouth. They were stuck in my throat like a dry saltine cracker.
Finally, she looked up at me with her beautiful brown eyes and a little bit of the gleam had returned. “Come home with me for Thanksgiving,” she suggested.
My heart sank because I knew it was inevitable that she would ask and I didn’t want to disappoint her by telling her no. And I didn’t want to lie and tell her we had a game because she could figure out pretty quickly we didn’t. I also didn’t want to tell her I had plans with Runt because that lie could unravel just as easily.
But how could I tell her that I was afraid to meet her parents? I was sure they wouldn’t like me. They’d know immediately that I was a piece of shit from the wrong side of town and that I wasn’t even close to being good enough for their daughter. And I was scared as shit they would somehow convince her to stop seeing me.
It was too soon for the dream to end.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I said.
She tried to mask her disappointment but I could still see it in her eyes. The gleam that had flickered just a few seconds ago was already starting to fade. “Why not,” she asked.
“I don’t think they’ll want someone like me at their holiday dinner,” I replied.
“You’re wrong,” she insisted.
When she lifted her hand and placed it softly on my cheek, my heart skipped a few beats. And whe
n she looked up at me with those sad brown eyes, I knew I was going to agree to whatever she asked. She had me completely wrapped around her little finger.
“I love you, Kian. Of course my parents will want you at Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Do your parents even know about me?” I asked. “Do they know about us?”
She gulped and I knew that wasn’t a good sign. “They know I’ve been dating someone named Kian.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Just dating?”
She nodded. “I kind of wanted to ease them into the idea of me being in a relationship. As you can imagine, they’ve been a little overprotective since Austin.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know—”
She cut me off before I could finish my sentence. “Bringing you home will be the perfect opportunity for them to come to terms with our relationship,” she suggested.
I heaved a sigh. “Do they even know I play hockey?”
She shook her head. “Here’s the thing. My parents are a little different. Well, you’ve met Zelda. She’s definitely my parents’ child. My dad is a professional musician, a cellist, and my mom is a novelist and poet. They also teach at the university. They’re very—um—artistic and—um—intellectual. They don’t really get sports.”
I had no idea what she was talking about. I’d never heard of anyone not getting sports. I didn’t even know what that meant. Don’t most people love sports and love athletes who play sports?
“How do you not get sports?” I asked still confused.
“Well, my parents don’t watch sports and they don’t play sports. They see no value in them. My dad spends nearly every waking moment playing his cello and my mom sits in front of a computer and writes. For fun, they go to hear other people playing stringed instruments or to hear lectures where other authors talk about writing.”
“I can almost understand someone not following hockey but what about football and basketball and baseball?”
She just continued to shake her head. “No.”
“None of them,” I asked again just to be sure I heard her correctly.
“No, never,” she insisted. “No sports ever.”
It was a lot to take in. If at least one of her parents liked hockey, I maybe could have passed muster but how was I supposed to get her parents to like me and convince them I was good enough for their daughter if they didn’t have any appreciation for sports?
As much as I didn’t want to go and completely humiliate myself in front of her parents, Taylor looked so eager for me to go, how could I refuse? And I selfishly wanted to see the gleam return to her eyes and the big bright smile on her face again.
“Okay,” I agreed finally. “I’ll go.”
“You will?” she asked as the gleam began to return to her eyes.
“Just for you,” I stated.
And there it was. Her glorious smile. Everything around us was suddenly brightened by its glow.
She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. I savored every moment of it because I knew it had the distinct chance of being among our last once her parents met me.
***
When I told Runt after practice a few days before Thanksgiving about my plans for the holiday, he shook his head.
“Dude, you’re fucked.”
I frowned. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I’m confident you’re fucked,” he stated. “Shawna’s step-dad and step-mom are huge hockey fans. They think I’m like a god or something. Like I walk on water. And they live in a trailer park, so it’s really laid back. I fit right in.”
“Don’t you mean her step-dad and her mom?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Shawna doesn’t have contact with either of her real parents. She never knew her dad because he took off when the kids were small. Her mom got remarried but I guess she took off a few years later and left Shawna and her siblings with their step-dad and he raised them. He got remarried a few years ago, so Shawna just calls his wife her step-mom.”
It sounded like a situation where I’d fit in a lot better than with Taylor’s family, that’s for sure. But that would mean I’d be with Shawna and the very idea of it repulsed me.
If I was able to make Taylor fall in love with me, there had to be a way to get her parents to accept me and maybe even like me. Because there was no way I was giving up my Princess. Not now. Not ever.
“Why do you like me?” I asked Runt.
He frowned. “I don’t.”
“I’m being serious,” I said. I really wanted to know. I thought maybe it would help me in my quest to try and impress Taylor’s parents.
“So am I, dude. What kind of question is that? You’ve turned into a real pussy ever since you started fucking the princess.”
“I told you not to use that language about Taylor,” I threatened.
“Well, there you go,” he said. “I like that you have someone that you really care about and that she really cares about you. And it doesn’t hurt that she’s smoking hot.”
“You’ve been my best friend since we were kids and that’s all you can come up with?”
“Let’s not get all sentimental, okay?” Runt turned away from me and I assumed the conversation was done.
“Whatever,” I replied.
To my surprise, he said, “You’re everything I always wanted to be but wasn’t. You act tough because you’ve had to be but deep down you’re a good guy. You’d do anything for a friend and I know you’d do anything for your girl. If Taylor’s parents can’t see that, fuck ‘em.”
“Thanks, man,” I said and gave Runt a slap on the back.
He turned back around to face me. “If you tell anyone I said any of that shit, I’ll deny it.”
I smiled. “I know.”
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go grab a beer.”
***
I changed shirts three times before I finally decided to wear a black button down shirt with black dress slacks. I felt like a freakin’ girl. I had to get a hold of myself and stop completely going nuts.
I just couldn’t get past the idea of anyone not liking sports. It just didn’t make any sense to me. Hockey was my life. I lived and breathed it. How could someone not find any value in something I felt was so important?
I told Taylor I would pick her up at 11 o’clock so we could be to her parents’ house by noon. She planned on staying over and since I didn’t have a game until Saturday night, she invited me to stay over with her. So not only did I have to worry about making a fucking fool of myself at Thanksgiving dinner, I also had to worry about all day Friday as well.
I was in so deep I was nearly drowning and I hadn’t even set foot in her parents’ house yet.
As always, I stood outside of her building for like five minutes so I wouldn’t be too early. I was already second guessing the dress pants and the decision to wear all black but I didn’t have time to go back to my apartment to get changed so I sucked it up and made my way to her front door.
I only knocked once before she answered. When her mouth fell open at the sight of me, it seemed to confirm that my wardrobe choice really had been a big mistake.
“What?” I asked when her mouth still didn’t close.
“You look hot,” she blurted. “You need to wear dress pants more often.”
“I just bought them,” I admitted. “And the shirt.”
She gave me a wicked little smile that instantly made my dick twitch.
She put her hands on my chest. “If I didn’t have to be good around my parents, I’d be all over you all day.”
“I’m good with skipping dinner,” I teased.
She shook her head. “Oh, no, Mr. Kavanagh. It took a lot of work to get you to agree to go to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving dinner. You’re not going to back out now.”
I leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Don’t worry,” I assured her. “I’m not going to stand you up.”
“You’d better not,” she teased. “I know where you l
ive.”
“Come on,” I said as I placed her hand in mine. “I don’t want to be late. It would make a lousy first impression.”
***
I had seen houses as big as the Thompson’s but I had never actually been inside one. As we stood on the doorstep, it felt like a herd of butterflies had suddenly invaded my stomach. The place was huge. Like one of the houses you see on those Real Housewives reality shows.
“Ready?” Taylor asked as she turned to face me. Then she hesitated. “You’re as white as a sheet.”
“It’s just the black shirt.” I tried to play off the fact that I was so nervous my stomach was practically in my throat.
“It’ll be fine. I know my parents will love you.”
That was easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one trying desperately to impress them. I’m sure her parents already adored her. But who wouldn’t? She was adorable.
Taylor opened the front door and yelled, “Mom—Dad—I’m home.”
After a few seconds, a woman who looked to be in her mid-50s hurried into the foyer. She was taller and curvier than Taylor but she had similar big brown eyes and shoulder length wavy brown hair. It was easy to see where both Taylor and her sister got their looks from. In her day, Taylor’s mom was probably a knock-out.
“Hi, Honey,” Taylor’s mom said as she embraced her daughter in a tight hug. Then her mom’s gaze focused on me. “And who do we have here?”
“Mom,” Taylor replied. “This is Kian.” The way Taylor said my name held so much love and adoration it made my heart swell.
“Mrs. Thompson,” I said. “Thank you so much for inviting me to Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Please call me Rita and my husband is Ted.”
I nodded.
“Come in,” Rita said as she turned and walked through the foyer.
It was an enormous foyer. The entire house was large. It was a little overwhelming. There was so much to look at I didn’t know where to focus my attention first. There were knickknacks and pieces of artwork everywhere and what seemed like thousands of books. They had more books than the crappy library at my shitty high school.
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