Breakout (San Francisco Strikers Book 1)

by Stephanie Kay

  “That’s awful. And it sucks that they didn’t support you.” From what she’d told him about her loving family, she knew a thing or two about that. It was never a subject he wanted to be able to commiserate with her on.

  “My uncle was pissed at the entire situation, but he went to the wedding. Most of the family did.”

  She ran her thumb over his knuckles, and he linked their fingers, needing her touch. She held his gaze. “Please don’t hate me for asking, but I have to. You shut down when you saw her. I know it’s been years, but are you over her?”

  “Yes. It sucks that it happened, but we weren’t meant to work out. My family’s reaction—basically losing a brother I’d looked up to—that is what angers me. Not her. My anger toward her faded a long time ago.”

  He hated the doubt in her eyes, but it—and their kiss—gave him hope, and he tugged her close.

  “Talk to me. I can see the wheels spinning.”

  “It’s just a lot to take in.”

  “Don’t let them ruin our night.”

  “Sorry, still trying to process this. No wonder you were so angry when I told you about Michael.”

  “Of course, I was. Only an idiot would cheat on you.”

  “Same for you, too. She’s an idiot. And your brother—I have no words.” She grimaced. “Family shouldn’t do shit like that.”

  “I know.”

  “What are you going to do about Christmas?” He’d successfully avoided Thanksgiving because of an away game, but the NHL shut down for the three days around Christmas so players could spend time with their families. Ethan was one of the few that didn’t appreciate that gesture. Although Ally would be home and he missed his little sister.

  “I’ll show up and spend time with my sister and Robert. Ally graduates in the spring. I always flew her out to visit me in New York, but now that I’m home, I hope she’ll stay close by. You’d love her. Her number love is strong. She’s getting a degree in mathematics with a minor in statistics.” He shot her a grin. While the thought of that degree gave him hives, he couldn’t be prouder of his sister, and regardless of what happened with his family, he’d promised Ally that if the team didn’t make the playoffs, he’d be there to cheer her on when she walked across that stage in May.

  “Wow. That number game is stronger than mine. I’m just an accountant.”

  “But an amazing accountant. You haven’t even made me look at any paperwork yet. That’s my kind of accountant,” he teased.

  “Just you wait. It’s the end of the year. The next few months—oh, the paperwork you’ll sign.”

  She laughed as he shuddered.

  “Just put those little flags you love where I have to sign. I trust you. Now, I’m done talking about our families and paperwork. They’ve rudely interrupted you finally kissing me.”

  “Pretty sure you kissed me first.” Her false indignation was adorable, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her nose.

  “Ethan. We really should call it a night,” she said, but her actions belied her words as she continued to lean into him.

  “Your place or mine?” he teased.

  “Ethan. I’m still not sure this is a good idea.” But her words held no weight as her lips met his and all thoughts of exes and families were pushed aside. He finally had her right where he wanted her.

  ***

  “We’re down by two with twenty minutes left. Get your shit together and win this. Colorado shouldn’t be handing us our asses. They played a grinding game against LA last night, and we’re rested. No excuses,” Rob Malone, current Strikers coach, lovingly referred to as Bugsy, ordered the following night.

  Bugsy might not have been looking directly at him, but Ethan felt the remarks aimed in his direction. Every shot of his had missed, and the one that had almost gone in had been on his own damn net. He’d been distracted since yesterday, and he knew it wasn’t totally because of kissing Penny.

  Not that he hadn’t been thinking about kissing her again since he ran into her at Crash and Byrne last month. Okay, that was a lie, he’d been pissed that night, so kissing her hadn’t been his first thought—probably his second. And after last night, he wanted a repeat. Multiple repeats. Kissing Penny was better than he remembered, and he was pissed that they’d been interrupted.

  What were the fucking odds that Julie and Darren would show up at the same restaurant? He was just accepting the fact that he’d have to play nice at Christmas in two days, and to run into them when he wasn’t ready—shit, what a nightmare.

  And the doubt in Penny’s eyes when she’d asked if he was over Julie—he still wasn’t sure she’d believed him. Nor when he’d reiterated it as he’d helped her into a cab after she sternly refused to let them have a sleepover.

  He bit back a grin. He was wearing her down. They were good together. He knew it. She knew it. She just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

  Chapter 9

  Penny walked up the front steps to her parents’ house Sunday afternoon. Tasteful lights decorated the shrubs and front porch. Old-fashioned warm white lights, not those new ones that ended up looking blue. But no reindeer graced the yard, and no penguins marched up the front steps. Everything was subdued. One day she was going to have a house she could load up with lights. Her homeowner’s association was very particular on what was allowed to be displayed, and large, light-up penguins weren’t on the list. She appreciated how detailed their rules were and followed them to the letter, but one day a sleigh would sit in her front yard, maybe a reindeer or two beside it.

  Yes, it was Christmas, and she should feel festive, but everything was still strained with her family, and she hated it. At least her mother was keeping it small this year, so it would only be the five of them. She straightened her Santa hat headband, and tightened her hold on the container of perfectly decorated cookies under her arm. She might not totally embrace the spirit this year, but her need to dress appropriately hadn’t vanished. People called them ugly Christmas sweaters. She just called them sweaters. At least this one didn’t light up. She bit back her smile and knocked on the door.

  Her father opened the door and ushered her inside. He gave her a stiff hug, which she briefly returned. “Hi, Penny. I’m glad you could come.” It was as close as her father would get to saying he’d missed her. Thanksgiving had been tense, and she’d managed to bail on the three dinners prior to that.

  She wanted to say, Of course I’m here, it’s freaking Christmas. But she resisted.

  “Hi. Am I the first one here?” she asked.

  “Yes. Jill called to say they would be a few minutes late.”

  Of course. Her sister never managed to be on time for anything. Punctuality was important. It was polite. Over the years, she’d resisted the urge to tell her sister they needed to be somewhere at least thirty minutes before the actual time.

  Jill had called her last night to tell her that she better be at Christmas dinner because she had an announcement. Penny had an idea about what her sister was going to tell them. If Jill was pregnant, her parents would ooh and ahh about how excited they were that Jill was pregnant. And then they would look at her.

  That sad look.

  She’d seen that look before—when she’d called off her wedding.

  That look sucked. It made her feel like she should be walking around with a baby bouncing on her hip, in her four-bedroom home, with a promotion. Oh, and the perfect husband who never would dream of cheating. Or at least have the illusion of a husband that never cheated. She’d started questioning her parents’ perfect marriage after their blasé reaction to Michael’s betrayal.

  Penny bit back her laugh when she entered the kitchen. Her mother, wearing her now signature frilly apron, pulled a perfect turkey from the oven. How times had changed. After over thirty years in the financial field, her mother was now retired. No longer were meals made in a rush, which included defrosting chicken in the microwave.

  She shuddered, remembering the rubber chicken of her youth.

 
Now her mom made meals from scratch. When she had time between her golf league and book club. It was like entering a parallel dimension when she came to visit. She’d seen The Stepford Wives, and it had freaked her out.

  Her parents had met in college, completed their bachelor’s degrees, were married, and then supported each other as they went for their master’s degrees. Once college was completed, they bought a house, got a cat, and had two children. They’d been so career driven that sometimes she and Jill had wondered if their parents just had kids because it was next on the list.

  List making must be genetic.

  Her mother placed the turkey on the counter and turned. “Hello, Penny. We’re so happy you could make it.” Had her parents rehearsed that line?

  “Hi, Mom.” She moved to give her mother a hug, but stopped as her mother waved a hand around the curls on top of Penny’s head.

  “What’s happening here?”

  And here it comes.

  Wait, how long had she been in the house? Three minutes…tops.

  She wished that was a record, but sadly, the record of ninety seconds, when she’d come home from college with her nose pierced, still held up.

  Granted, she had done it for shock value, so she couldn’t really fault her father’s outrage.

  It’d hurt like a bitch—thank you low tolerance for pain.

  “What’s wrong with what?” Penny shot back.

  “Your hair. It seems to be much curlier on the top and straighter on the bottom. It looks a little odd.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Penny replied as she tried to pull away from her mother, who had decided to grab her curls. “You really know how to make a girl feel good.”

  “Did you wash it today? Maybe you should go see my hairdresser.”

  “Yes, I showered, and no, I don’t want to see your hairdresser,” Penny grumbled. Self-esteem from sixty to zero in one point five seconds. Didn’t know it could go in reverse.

  “Don’t be so grouchy, Penny. Frown lines will only get worse as you get older. Speaking of that, have you been using the moisturizer I gave you?”

  “Yes, Mom.” The anti-aging one. She was only twenty-eight. When had she gotten old enough to use that? By the time this conversation was over, she was going to need to start taking Prozac.

  “Oh good, honey. I think you should get an eye cream, too. Might help with those dark circles.” Her mother smiled at her.

  Prozac and vodka. Were those on tonight’s menu?

  “We’re here,” Jill yelled from the living room.

  “Oh, they’re here,” Penny’s mom said, clapping her hands together in excitement. At least her mom’s eyes lit up for one of her daughters. The perfect one, of course. Jill had started dating Brian three years ago. She’d then completed her master’s degree at twenty-four. A year later she was married, and most likely she was here to tell everyone she was pregnant.

  Right. On. Time.

  God, she hated how bitter that sounded.

  “Dinner’s almost ready,” her mother called out as Jill and Brian entered the kitchen.

  “Mom, it smells great,” Jill said as she tucked her shiny and straight blonde hair behind her ear.

  Yep, straight—and not a hair out of place. Sometimes Penny wondered if she was the milkman’s kid, but supposedly her father had had curly hair, prior to it falling out.

  “Thanks, honey. So what’s this big news?” her mother asked, practically salivating.

  “Oh, I couldn’t wait to tell you, and I’m so happy everyone is here. You’re going to be a grandma,” Jill squealed as their mother swooped in to hug her.

  “I just knew it. Finally, a little one to spoil. When are you due?” Penny’s mother bent down to talk to Jill’s non-existent belly.

  “In about seven months. A summer baby,” Jill replied.

  “Congratulations, Jill,” Penny said as she gave her sister a hug.

  “Yes, congratulations.” Their father came into the kitchen, shaking Brian’s hand before hugging Jill. Penny shifted back into the corner as her mother raved about all the presents she would buy for her first grandchild.

  “Penny, can you set the table?” her mother called out. “For six.”

  “Six? I don’t think the baby needs a place setting yet. It’s still inside Jill,” Penny scoffed.

  “No, there’s someone else coming for dinner.”

  “Who? For Christmas? I thought this was a family dinner?” Penny asked.

  “Yes. It is,” her mother replied. The doorbell rang. “Penny, can you get that?”

  Penny made her way to the front door. Who was coming for dinner? She opened the door and bit back a curse.

  “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

  “Hi,” Michael said. Michael. As in the cheating, douchebag ex, Michael. Family dinner, her ass. And on freaking Christmas? Who the hell had she pissed off?

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  “I was invited for dinner,” he replied, holding out a bottle of wine.

  “Don’t you have your own family?” she asked, refusing to take the bottle, and crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Hello, Michael,” Penny’s mother said as she came down the hallway. “Penny, aren’t you going to let him in?”

  “Why is he here, Mother?” she gritted out.

  “We thought you two should talk, and Michael said you won’t return his phone calls,” her mother continued.

  She hated that she wasn’t surprised by her mother’s invitation to Michael. Where was the family loyalty?

  “Maybe that’s because I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to have anything to do with him. In case you forgot, he cheated on me.”

  “And I cannot apologize enough for that. I want to make this work, Penny. I love you,” he pleaded.

  “Penny, just listen to him,” her father said as he came down the hall.

  “You’re all unbelievable. Was this all a ruse to get me here tonight? Is Jill even pregnant?”

  Her mother gasped. “Of course she is. We had no idea she was pregnant until she just told all of us in the kitchen. Do you honestly believe we would stoop to that level?”

  “I’m not sure, Mother. I’m just not sure.” She shook her head, trying to hide her disbelief and pain. Not to sound melodramatic, but did they care about her feelings at all?

  “Why don’t we all go into the dining room and have a nice dinner,” her mother said. She grabbed Penny’s hand. “Let’s not ruin Jill’s special day.”

  “I’m pretty sure you did that when you invited Michael,” she replied before spinning on her heel and stomping into the dining room. She was officially trapped. She would sit through one meal, and then she would leave. She had no desire to hear Michael out, but she wanted to support her sister. And it was Christmas, after all.

  Michael took the seat next to her, and she scooted her chair away from him. He took her hand under the table and she wanted to vomit. She ripped her hand away from his grip. “Touch me again and I will punch you in the throat,” she whispered harshly.

  “Penny, please,” he pleaded.

  “No. I don’t want to hear it. I’m going to have as nice a dinner as possible with my family because it’s the holidays, and then we are going our separate ways, and I never want to see you again. I cannot believe you got them to invite you to dinner.”

  “How’s work going, dear?” her mother asked. Penny turned to see her mother smiling at her. That brittle smile that never made it to her eyes. Appearances were everything to her family.

  “It’s fine.” Short answers would get her through this meal.

  Her mother kept up the conversation, asking Jill about work and Michael about his family. Her father talked about the office. All in all, it was typical dinner conversation, as if there wasn’t a giant cheating bastard elephant in the room.

  When Michael mentioned for the fourth time how much he’d missed everyone and how happy he was to be at a family dinner again, she resisted the urge t
o stab him with her fork, but couldn’t take it anymore.

  “I can’t do this,” she said as she shoved back from the table, her chair falling to the floor.

  “Penny,” her mother gasped.

  “No. I need to go. I’m sorry to ruin Christmas.” She rushed from the dining room and was in her car and down the street before she realized it. Luckily, it was a short drive home because the tears racing down her cheeks were disturbing her vision. She should’ve stood up for herself more, ordered Michael to leave, but she’d let him in. Let her family think that what they’d done was okay. Why did she let them walk all over her?

  She pulled into the lot behind her building and made it into her townhouse without seeing anyone. She probably looked a fright. She stripped off her clothes and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over body, and curled up in a fetal position. She was moving past her cheating ex, but could she move past the fact that her family continued to support their reconciliation? Why was it so difficult for them to be on her side?

  She itched to call Ethan. And say what? Come over? My family sucks. Your family sucks. Let’s commiserate.

  But he was probably dealing with his own holiday drama. While her situation was awful, it couldn’t compare to what Ethan was going through tonight. She was still reeling from his confession about his brother. Who did that? And how could his family support Ethan’s brother and ex? No wonder Ethan had stayed away.

  And yet she wanted to be there for him today. Maybe squeeze his hand under the table in support. Maybe stake her claim.

  She paused. She had no claim on Ethan. She wasn’t supposed to want a claim on Ethan. But with each day, she did. And those kisses—she’d missed those kisses.

  They’d been just as amazing as she’d remembered, but she was apprehensive. So many things could still go wrong, and her judgment had clearly proved faulty before. Could she trust herself now?

  Ethan took in a deep breath and rang the doorbell. He’d grown up in this house, but he no longer felt welcome. Just a visitor wishing he’d come down with a stomach virus or something. How was that for holiday cheer? Ally had called him again this morning to make sure he wasn’t going to bail. He wished Penny was standing next to him. She centered him, even when she was driving him crazy and running away. Hopefully, their kiss the other night had changed things, but he couldn’t be sure.