Fearless King

by Hughes, Maya

  I ran my fingers over my lips. Two summers already? I still thought about that kiss, the way his hands had felt on my waist and how my heart had nearly leaped out of my chest when I’d stood on my toes to taste him. The moment had stretched on for an eternity. I’d compared every kiss I’d had since then to the intensity of it. None had measured up, but the sadness and pain of what had come after always tainted those memories.

  My skin broke out into goose bumps. He’d made it abundantly clear how he felt being around me, and the fact that he’d disappeared from my life spoke volumes. With my towel wrapped around myself, I stepped into the hallway and tiptoed into my room. I closed the door and whipped it off, and grabbed my folded pajamas off my bed. The pregame announcements blared from the living room. Jerks were starting it without me. I glanced up and eyed my dresser. Tucked inside was another one of my torture devices. I would not wear his jersey. I wasn’t going to do it.

  Opening my middle dresser drawer, I hesitated before shoving my hands in and taking out the jersey. A sigh burst out of my lips, and I shook my head. I was even lying to myself now. The jersey had been a gift from him back when we were still friends. Had we even been friends? Or was I just the little sister he humored and had given a toe-curling kiss to before sending me on my way?

  I put my hair up into a ponytail. Staring at myself in the mirror, I ran my hands over the roomy jersey.

  Yes, I was pissed at him.

  Yes, I needed to forget about him.

  Yes, I was going to follow my own advice…right after this game. This night was the last time I was going to think about Ford, about the kiss, and about what had come after.

  Move on, Liv. Suck it up and stop obsessing.

  Picking up the frame on top of my dresser, I ran my finger along the edge of the picture of my parents before heading out into the living room. “You’d be able to tell me what to do, Mom.” Well, if I’d made an appointment through her office to get a few minutes of time with her.

  Everything was set up in front of the TV. I quickly whipped up a batch of drinks and returned to the couch. LJ and Marisa had cleared a spot for me. Drinks, popcorn, dip, and chips along with some killer sports action coming my way—who needed anything else?

  The crowd in the stadium drowned out the announcers. Every possession and turnover had them on their feet, and I was on mine often, too. I sloshed my drink onto LJ more than a few times.

  “Is any of this making it into your mouth?” He wrung out his sleeve.

  “Sorry.” I cringed and went right back to the game.

  Philly was up three to one when a breakaway ended with one shot making it through Ford’s defenses. I gritted my teeth at the blare of the goal buzzer.

  “Bad call, ref.” I shot out of my seat and chucked a handful of popcorn at the TV. Ignoring the looks from LJ and Marisa, I grabbed my glass and drained the last of it. The sweet raspberry flavor warred with the bite of the rum. If Colm could have seen me, he’d have had a fit. My lips lifted in a smirk. One of these days he’d stop seeing me as a little kid.

  The seconds ticked by on the game clock. Philly was up by one, but a small mistake was the difference between a solid win and dragging it out into overtime.

  Two wings blazed down the ice on the screen. I held my breath at the double team Ford was up against. He blocked the first shot and lunged to stop the second. “Where the hell is the rest of the team?”

  Declan, Heath, and Emmett had to be coming out of their skin on the bench. Ignoring the yelps from LJ and Marisa, I dug my fingers into their arms as the puck shot straight for the gap between Ford’s skates. He shifted, closing the hole, and the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game.

  “Christ, Liv. If I’d wanted a dead arm, I’d have sat next to Marisa.” LJ rubbed his bicep.

  “All those muscles and you’re hurting from little old me.” I put on my best innocent face, tucking my hands under my chin and batting my eyelashes.

  “I stopped buying that act when you challenged me to do those crazy ballet moves.” He pushed against my shoulder.

  “Aww, the big football player can’t do a few pliés?”

  “Shut up.” He chucked a pillow at my head. I ducked and it hit the half-full plastic pitcher on the table, spilling the last of the sangria all over Marisa, who’d crouched down to grab some popcorn.

  “LJ!” she screamed. He grabbed some napkins and started dabbing at the spreading wet spots on her boobs and crotch. Nope, totally not awkward at all. She batted his hands away, and his cheeks turned fire-engine red. “I’m going to kill you. Just for that, I should tell your mom it was you who spray-painted the garage when we were eleven.”

  He jumped up, and she rushed after him. I collapsed back onto the couch. That small knot forming in my stomach with reminders of what I’d missed out on rose to the surface. They’d been best friends since third grade. Back in third grade, the biggest tragedy in my life had been not getting an invite to the most popular girl in my class’s party. Little had I known, just a few years later I’d know what real loss was. My life had been ripped apart in the seventh grade. Sometimes it felt like a part of my life had frozen at that point, and I didn’t know if I’d ever feel whole again.

  3

  Ford

  Ducking behind the half wall, I crawled across the floor using only my arms. The noises got closer, and I held my breath, keeping myself as still as possible. A herd of footsteps headed straight for my spot. Rolling over onto my back, I prepared for the attack.

  Five heads popped around the corner with huge smiles on their faces.

  “You got me,” I yelled, holding my hands up in surrender.

  They laughed and jumped onto my stomach, barely missing my junk. Oof. More kids rounded the corner and added to the pile on. Reminder: toddlers do not have any sense of danger zones.

  Tiny, sticky hands went straight for my nose and mouth. Flipping onto my stomach, I covered my head. I opened my eyes and glanced up at the adult legs standing in front of me.

  “Hey, Mom.” I smiled and went up on all fours. The kids held on, grabbing my shirt and climbing aboard their own personal horse.

  “You always show up right before nap time.” Her smile was bright and wide, just as pristine as all my childhood memories, wisps of her salt-and-pepper hair flying out of her braid.

  She’d dealt with so much since my dad had bailed, but she’d never let it stop her. I didn’t know a stronger person.

  “I’ll help you get them to sleep.” I stood and wrapped my arms around my back to catch the kids as they let go of my shirt.

  “You’d better or Marianne is going to kick your butt.” She laughed.

  I ducked my head and waved at Marianne where she was sitting in the corner finishing up snacks with the other half of the kids.

  “Don’t worry, Mari. I can take them to the soft playroom if they’re too hyper after our game of hide-and-seek.”

  “They wouldn’t be too hyper if someone hadn’t barreled in here like the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.” Her lips thinned.

  “Next time I’ll keep my parading to a minimum.”

  She shot me a glare that singed my eyebrows. Turning back to the kids, she was all smiles.

  Walking toward the door, I stepped extra high with the additional cargo wrapped around my legs. “Are you guys coming to soft play?” The two kids on each leg peered up at me and nodded. “Hold on, then.” Their tiny fingers tightened around my jean-covered calves.

  Shuffle-stomping out of the room, I walked across the hall to the soft playroom. The walls were covered in framed paintings the kids had done and pictures of the classes over the years. There were a bunch of Polaroids arranged in the shape of a star with all the kids striking their best dance moves, along with the local childcare award plaques. Joy radiated from the walls. This place was so different than it had been back when we’d first moved in, but we’d made it a home.

  Mom had refused to give the place up once I bought her new house. She
probably spent more time here than at home. Relaxing wasn’t in her nature. Instead of taking the yearlong cruise I’d booked for her, she’d added two more classes and after-school care to the preschool using her bedroom and Grant’s, and she’d converted my room into a mini planetarium with projected star charts and meteor showers on the ceiling and walls. She’d also introduced a sliding scale tuition program to help give people who wouldn’t normally be able to pay a chance for a spot, not that the waiting list wasn’t a year long already.

  Falling into the foam blocks, I battled it out with the four non-sleepers.

  Running on my knees through a foam pit was harder than it looked. If the team strength and cardio coaches could have seen me then, they’d have been shaking their heads. Hell, if Heath could have seen me, he’d have banished me to the treadmill for the next year. I fell back into the soft blocks, and the kids took turns trying to bury me in a foamy grave.

  Their muffled voices muted all around as they slowly covered me. Maybe I could hide out here? Pretend I’d fallen asleep until the dinner was over? I took a deep breath, the foam cubes shifting on top of me. Things should be okay. She’s probably forgotten all about the kiss. Of course she has. Not even the voice in my head could convince me of that.

  For the next twenty minutes the kids helped me with my therapy session AKA distraction from thinking about Liv, complete with slobbery hands, foam to the skull, and a few near-miss nut shots. I stared at the upside-down child hovering above my head. He looked at me with pity before a sneak attack finger to the nose, followed by a yawn. Sitting up and rising from the foam pit, I gathered up the other yawning kids.

  “Okay, little people, looks like some of you are tired.” They all shook their heads with mops of curls, dark and light, bouncing around. “I think it’s time for a nap. Let’s get you some water, and then I’ll read you a story.”

  We joined hands, walking into the now empty classroom, everyone else already in the nap room. I grabbed a book and settled onto a beanbag. Narrowly missing knees and elbows flailing as they tried to get comfortable, I opened the book and read some of The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

  “You know you’ve always got a backup career whenever you’re finished with hockey.” Mom stood in the doorway with her arms folded across her chest.

  I lifted my head from the wall and glanced down at the four kids piled onto the beanbag with me.

  “They’re all asleep. You’ve got the magic touch.” She picked up some of the toy carnage.

  “More like a lot of energy to burn, but I’m beat. How can kids tire me out more than hockey?”

  “They drain the power of the sun like Superman. Most of the time it’s a nearly bottomless pit of energy until they crash or have a meltdown—or both.” She helped pick them up off me; then Marianne came in and helped us get them into the nap room. The dim lighting, gentle classical versions of pop songs, and soft cots made me want to curl up in there, too.

  Creeping out of the room, I closed the door behind me with barely a click.

  “I’m so glad you’re back in town.” Mom squeezed her arms around my neck. “Now I’ve got my two best guys together again.” Mom and I put away some of the toy explosion in the Butterfly Room. “Grant’s been coming by more often too, and not just for laundry. I think he’s trying to orchestrate a run-in with Olivia.”

  I froze, bent over as I picked the dress-up costumes off the floor. “Olivia? As in Olivia Frost? You see Liv?”

  “Sure. She comes by a couple times a month to do a little dance class for the kids. They always get a kick out of it. Grant’s always asking before he comes over to see if she’s going to be here.”

  The muscles in my neck tightened, and I glanced around the room like I’d be able to sense where she’d been. “How long has she been coming by?”

  “This past year. I’ve helped her out with some motherly advice types of things. It must be so hard growing up and not having a mom to talk to. I know Colm does his best, but it’s not the same.” She let out a sigh and clutched the toys to her chest.

  That night at the wedding, Liv had been upset during Mak’s father-daughter dance. Of course it had been hard on her. How had I not thought about that? About what it might be like for her on her own in the city? And I hadn’t tried to help with anything at all.

  “I haven’t seen her much lately.” More like I’d avoided her at all costs.

  “That’s a shame. It’s nice having her around. I get to do girlie things without having to hear my men moan about being dragged along.”

  Liv had been hanging out with my mom and I’d had no idea.

  “She usually called to check if you were around. She must have wanted to see you.” She grinned, but I knew the opposite was true.

  Seemed like I hadn’t needed to avoid Liv at all—she’d been avoiding me too. She probably regretted the kiss, wished it hadn’t happened, and didn’t want to make things awkward. Sure, she’d had a crush on me back in middle school, but that was a little kid thing. When I’d kissed her at the wedding after her freshman year of college, she’d probably realized reality didn’t measure up to the fantasy.

  My stomach knotted at the thought of the meet up at Heath’s place later today. If I bailed, I had no doubt they’d track me down. Maybe Liv would back out if she knew I was going to be there. That made the knot tighter.

  “Your dad’s birthday is coming up.”

  “Is he still alive?”

  “He sent a birthday card a few weeks ago.” She sighed, taking it out of her pocket.

  “There’s nothing I need to say to him.” I hadn’t spoken to him since he’d left, since he’d packed up after I told Mom about his affair. Mom had still been in the hospital when she’d broken her leg cleaning out the gutters like he was supposed to. He’d packed up his bags and cleared out the family account. The image of Mom sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the stack of bills with tears streaming down her face would always stay with me. Where had he been then? Fucking gone. The guilt ate at me for keeping that secret from my mom for two weeks before I told him I was telling her, spilled everything, and then he bolted on us.

  After everything he’d done, she tried to get us to talk to him and shared updates here and there. He didn’t deserve any of our time, especially not hers. I took the card so she wouldn’t worry about it and shoved it into my back pocket.

  “I don’t like you hanging on to that anger in your heart, sweetie.” She ran her hand over my chest. I closed my hand over top of hers and squeezed it.

  I embraced the anger; it helped melt away some of the guilt. What if I hadn’t said anything? Would he have stayed? Saved Mom from all that stress and pain? It was guilt I’d carried with me for a long time with little bits added on with each secret I kept. It clung to me like a magnet, finding me no matter how much I tried to avoid it. My parents’ divorce, that kiss with Liv, Colm’s ex-fiancée—the strikes against me kept piling up.

  Mom straightened up the bookshelf and walked over to me. She looped her arm through mine. “When are you going to introduce us to your girlfriend?”

  “Not this again, Mom. I’d have to have a girlfriend first.” I groaned and slowed my steps, but she held on tight to my arm. Damn, she was strong. Must have come with the territory of lifting all those little kids all day. “There’s no girl to introduce you to. If there were, you’d be the first to know.”

  “And why not? You’re very handsome, a professional athlete—a catch, if I do say so myself.” She stepped in front of me with her hands on her hips like she was ready to rip any woman who didn’t want to be with me a new one.

  “It’s hard with traveling so much and avoiding the fake people out there. It’s better to keep things casual.” I squeezed the back of my neck and stared down at the floor.

  She grabbed me by my chin, lifting my head. “That means you’re playing the field, huh?”

  I met her eyes. It was the same disapproving look I used to get when I came into the house with busted and bru
ised knuckles as a kid.

  My gaze darted away from hers. “I’m weighing my options.”

  “Don’t weigh them for too long. I don’t like you bumping around all by yourself. You can’t count on the Kings to force you out of being a hermit. Where’s Colm been? He’s back in town, and I’ve barely seen him. Oh, these are for you.” She handed over a box of cookies. The colorful sprinkles peeked out from under the plastic on the top of the box.

  “He’s in LA now because of his knee. Why are you acting like I’m an eternal bachelor at twenty-five? I promise you’ll be the first to know when I find that special someone.”

  “I’d better be.”

  “I’m heading out. I’ll see you when I’m back from my next stretch of away games. Do you need me to do anything before I leave?”

  “I need a hug.” She plastered a kiss on my cheek, and I squeezed her tight. She squirmed in my hold and laughed. “And can you take out the trash? It’s always a nightmare after lunch.” She pinched my cheeks before disappearing into her office by the front door. Always ducking out on the dirty work.

  “On it.” Balancing the box of cookies in one hand, I grabbed my coat, shrugged it on, and picked up the trash bags. A woman pushed through the front door of the school and skidded to a halt when she spotted me in the entryway. Her gaze darted from the black bags in my hand to my face.

  “You’re the hottest trash man I’ve ever seen.” She snapped her mouth shut, and her cheeks turned even pinker.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, holding the bags in front of me.

  “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” Her eyebrows dropped, and I averted my eyes. “I don’t usually do this…” She licked her lips, and I grimaced. “But here.” She scribbled something down using the pen from the sign in/sign out sheet, then shoved a folded-up piece of paper into my pocket as I skirted by her. There were a number of rules I’d set for myself about women who were absolutely off-limits, and anyone whose kid went to my mom’s school fell solidly into that territory. Shouldering the door open, I escaped into the sharp, freezing February air.