Benched: Gold Hockey Book 4

by Elise Faber

  “I’m sorry.”

  Angie smiled at her sister. “For the longest time, I thought if I talked to you or reached out to you that I could be sued and that I’d lose—”

  “Everything.”

  “Yeah.” She swallowed. “Then you emailed, and I went through my mom’s things and read everything and realized that I could maybe have a sister. My mom wasn’t around to be put at risk. Dad was gone”—a sigh—“but that wasn’t what held me back.”

  “What did?” Mandy asked.

  “I was scared. Pathetic, I know,” she said. “But I was too scared to reach out—or really, even to reach halfway—” She broke off, struggling to find the right words.

  Mandy squeezed her hand. “I understand being scared—we Shallows girls have all sorts of trust issues. But I guess my question is why be scared of me? We had no history and I was initiating the relationship, I was the one putting myself out there . . . so what made you so nervous?”

  Angie bit her lip then decided to tell the truth. “I thought you’d hate me. I thought that if I put myself out there and you got to know me that you’d change your mind.”

  Yo-yoed from one extreme to the next, like their father.

  “Is that why you left the day Blane and I got engaged?”

  Angie considered that. “Yes. Though, truthfully, I can say it was only part of the reason.” A shrug. “I can’t say me leaving was totally altruistic because it wasn’t. I was beyond anxious, yes, worried you’d hate me, and, I know it sounds lame, but I also didn’t want to ruin your special day.”

  Mandy shook her head. “It is lame.” She took a bite of her pastry, chewed, and swallowed. “Because you would have only made it better,” she said. “But I do get it. Thank you for being considerate.”

  “I was part of the other family. It was the least I could—”

  “No.” Angie blinked at her sister’s tone. “You’re my family now. Our parents can all suck it. They were twisted assholes who enjoyed hurting each other—well, I don’t know about your mom—”

  One half of Angie’s mouth curved. “She can definitely be considered an asshole.”

  “Okay. Good.” A pause as Mandy considered that. “Well, not good exactly, but good that all our parents are assholes?” She shook her head. “Shit. That sounds—”

  “Accurate,” Angie interjected.

  Mandy giggled. “Yes. That’s true. Okay, so we were surrounded by assholes growing up, but now we’ve found each other and—”

  “We can be assholes together?”

  “You’re the worst.”

  Angie grinned. “How about we can be well-adjusted and move forward in productive, happy lives?”

  “Better,” Mandy said.

  “Or maybe, we can just be sisters?”

  Mandy sniffed before resting her head on Angie’s shoulder. “Okay, that’ll do.”

  Twenty-Six

  Monday

  Max: I miss you.

  Angie: You’ve been gone for one day.

  Max: Maybe, but I still miss you.

  Angie: So needy.

  Max: Ouch.

  Angie: I’m kidding. I miss you too.

  Max: Yeah?

  Angie: Don’t go fishing for compliments now.

  Max: *puppy dog eyes GIF*

  Angie: Nice try. You already know you’re both adorable and hot.

  Max: Not sure that combination works for me.

  Angie: Well, it sure as hell works for me. *fanning herself GIF*

  Max: *waggling eyebrows GIF*

  Angie: Goodnight, Max. Good game tonight.

  Max: Night, Angel.

  Tuesday

  Max: Do you want to come over for dinner on Friday and meet Brayden officially?

  Angie: . . .

  Max: No pressure.

  Angie: Is Brayden ready for that?

  Max: He’ll love you. Sparky will too.

  Angie: Does Sparky like cats?

  Max: Supposedly.

  Angie: Hmm.

  Max: I’ll order in Chinese.

  Angie: You had to go and tempt me with fried rice, didn’t you?

  Max: Frankly, I’m tempting myself. This diet that the nutritionist has us on is torture.

  Angie: Poor, spoiled hockey players.

  Angie: Don’t you dare send that puppy dog eyes GIF

  Max: *puppy dog eyes GIF*

  Angie: OMG. You’re the worst.

  Max: Does this mean you’re coming to dinner?

  Angie: . . .

  Max: Please?

  Angie: I’ll see you at your place on Friday.

  Wednesday

  Angie: Thank you so much! I love it.

  Max: I’m so glad they came.

  Angie: They’re adorable and thank you for sending them to my apartment and not my office. It’d be a little hard to explain why I was receiving Star Wars underwear at my desk.

  Max: I was tempted, I have to admit.

  Angie: *squinty eyes GIF*

  Max: You’ll also notice this gift was confetti free.

  Angie: That will not go unnoticed on Friday evening.

  Max: It might have to be Saturday morning.

  Angie: Huh?

  Max: Brayden.

  Angie: Oh. Duh. I’m sorry, I’m new to this.

  Max: Do you mind?

  Angie: What? No! Of course not. You guys are a package deal, and he’s a wonderful kid. I’m looking forward to getting to know him better. I just . . .

  Max: What?

  Angie: I hope he doesn’t hate me.

  Max: Impossible.

  Angie: . . .

  Max: He also has a playdate on Saturday morning, so you can demonstrate your undying affection for non-confetti gifts at that time.

  Angie: Trying to distract me?

  Max: He’ll love you, Angel. It’s impossible for anyone not to.

  Max: Now, it’s late for you. Get some sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow.

  Thursday night

  Max: Hopping on the plane, will be really late getting home.

  Angie: Have a safe flight. I can’t believe how much I’ve missed you this week.

  Max: Because I’m totally miss-able.

  Angie: So pun-tastic.

  Max: I’ll have you know, Blue just asked why I lol-ed.

  Angie: What’d you tell him?

  Max: That a beautiful woman has me by the balls.

  Angie: I’m not sure if I’m intrigued or disgusted.

  Max: Story of my life.

  Max: And you’re definitely intrigued, sweetheart. Just btw. ;)

  Max: Gotta turn off my cell. See you tomorrow.

  Angie: Your place at 7 pm. Can’t wait.

  Max: Goodnight, Angel. Sleep tight.

  Twenty-Seven

  Max

  Max turned to Brayden, who was sprawled out on his bed. “Hey, bud?

  “Yeah?” His son had his nose in his iPad.

  “I have a friend coming over for dinner. Chinese okay?”

  “Yup.” He pressed a few things on the screen. “Is it Blue?”

  Max sank onto the edge of the bed, hit pause on the game, and waited for Brayden to look up at him. “You remember Angie? From the vet’s office?”

  Brayden’s eyebrows dragged together. “With the cat?”

  “Yeah. Well, you know Mandy, right?” A nod. “It turns out that Angie is her sister.”

  Those brows relaxed. “Oh, okay.” He sounded disappointed.

  “You okay?” Max asked.

  Brayden reached for the iPad, sighing when Max set it on the other side of him. “I’m fine.”

  Considering the amount of mope in that statement, Brayden wasn’t fine. Shit. Had he misread things with Brayden horribly? Was his son not ready for him to be in a relationship? Max’s gut churned at the thought. Fuck, because Angie was—

  “I just thought that maybe Angie might not be your friend.”

  Max froze, tried to puzzle that one out. “You don’t want us to be friends?”

/>   “Well, I like Mandy, and she’s your friend.”

  “Okaaay.”

  “And Angie’s your friend, too, right?” Brayden seemed to be holding his breath as he waited for Max’s answer.

  “Yes, of course she is.”

  Brayden’s face fell. “Oh.”

  “I’m not following, bud. Why does that make you sad?”

  His son sighed. “Because if you only ever have friends, I’ll never get a new mom, and you’ll never have a new wife.” Tears shone in Brayden’s eyes. “And then you’ll never be happy.”

  “Hey, come here.” He tugged his son close. “First, I love you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I am so happy to have you in my life. If it was just you and me forever, that would be okay.”

  “Really?”

  “Really, really.” Max ran a hand through Brayden’s hair. “Second. Angie is a friend, but I’d also like her to be more. If you’re okay with it.”

  Startled blue eyes met his. “Like a girlfriend?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Is that okay with you?”

  Brayden smiled. “She had a really nice smile, and her cat was cute.”

  The top two reasons to want to date a woman: a nice smile and a cute puss—

  Max snorted. “Yeah, bud. She did.”

  “Do you love her?” Brayden asked.

  “Of course, I do.”

  Four words emerging unbidden from Max’s lips that made him freeze in place, four words that he’d never really considered, but also four words that settled into his brain, his heart, his soul.

  He loved Angie.

  Of course, he did.

  “Cool.” Brayden reached for his iPad, un-paused the game. “Can we get sweet and sour chicken?”

  “Yeah, bud,” Max said, pulling out his cell to order the food.

  There was a knock on the door just as Max was shrugging into a fresh shirt. It was a few minutes before seven, so it was either the food or Angie.

  “Don’t answer that,” he called to Brayden, who’d pushed up from the bed and looked as though he’d sprint down the stairs. “Remember? You should have an adult answer the door unless you know who it is.”

  “Isn’t that your friend?”

  “Maybe,” Max agreed. “But better to be sure, yeah?”

  Brayden considered that before nodding. “Yeah.”

  Max finished buttoning his shirt just as the bell peeled again. “Let’s go see if that’s food or Angie.”

  Brayden ran in front of him, pounding down the stairs and skidding to a stop.

  “Can I open it now?” he asked when Max was five steps from the bottom.

  “Yeah,” Max said, smiling.

  That smile faded as soon as Brayden turned the knob and pulled open the door.

  Because it wasn’t Angie or the person from DoorDash with their food.

  It was Suzanne.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, rushing down the stairs to stand between Brayden and his ex. “What are you doing here?” Yes, his tone was frosty, but what the fuck? The last time they’d spoken on the phone, he’d made it clear—

  “You said I could come home,” Suzanne said . . . or rather whined.

  Apparently, he hadn’t made it clear.

  “Brayden,” he said quietly, “can you please go play in your room for a few minutes.”

  “Can I have a hug, baby?” Suzanne asked, when their son turned to leave.

  Brayden looked at Max. “Your body, your choice, bud,” he said.

  Relief poured over Brayden’s face. Then without another look back, he ran up the stairs.

  “He—” Suzanne’s eyes glittered with tears.

  And Max was too cynical by now to believe they were anything but a show.

  “You can’t show up here like this,” he said. “You gave up that right when you signed the papers.”

  “Brayden is my son.”

  “Our son, though you seemed to forget that when you sped the fuck out of town,” Max grit out. He forced himself to stop, to breathe and calm his tone. “I won’t have you upsetting Brayden.”

  “I miss him.” Her lip trembled, those tears escaped.

  “I said, we could work something out,” Max told her. “That we’d find a way for you to live close and still have a relationship with Brayden. But showing up on my front porch unannounced isn’t the way. Move somewhere nearby, get to know your son again slowly—”

  “I know my son!” she snapped. “I carried him in my body. I pushed him out of my fucking vagina, and I have the goddamned stretch marks to prove it.”

  Suzanne was right. She’d done all those things.

  But that didn’t mean she was a mother. Mothers didn’t leave. Mothers didn’t abandon their children.

  “You haven’t seen or talked to him in almost two years.”

  “That’s not fair—”

  “What’s his favorite food?”

  “Mac and cheese.”

  Max shook his head. “Nope. His best friend at school?”

  “Kevin.”

  “Kevin moved away last year.”

  “How would I know that?” she growled then shrugged. “The kid was an idiot anyway.”

  Max clenched one hand into a fist, pressing it to his thigh, and striving for patience. “What about his favorite color?”

  “Blue.”

  Max sighed. “No, Suzanne. It’s green now,” he said. “It’s been a long time. Things change.”

  “Not all things change, Maxie.” She drifted close, breasts brushing against his chest. “We didn’t change. We always were really good together—”

  He gripped her wrists and stepped back. “Don’t.”

  A throat cleared.

  His stomach sank when he saw who it was.

  Angie stood behind them, the bag of food in her hands. “Hi,” she said, glancing between him and Suzanne.

  Well, this was the moment she was going to run.

  She’d caught him with Suzanne all but plastered to his chest, and she was going to run. Fuck. He’d just discovered that he loved her, and his ex-wife had torpedoed any chance of a future.

  “Hi,” he said, still holding Suzanne’s wrists as she actively tried to sidle closer, trying to stake some sort of claim she didn’t have a chance in hell of possessing.

  Angie’s eyes softened slightly.

  Or maybe he was going crazy with hope.

  “Hi,” she repeated, eyes searching his.

  “Hi,” he replied, gaze pleading that she understand.

  “You already said that,” Suzanne snapped, jerking both of their stares back to her. “Now leave me and my husband alone—”

  “Ex,” Angie interjected.

  “What?” Suzanne asked.

  “Ex-husband.” Angie slipped past Suzanne, paused at his side, and rose on tiptoe to press a kiss to his mouth. “I’ll get the food set up in the kitchen.”

  “It’s down—”

  “I can manage.” She kissed him again. “Nice to meet you,” she said to Suzanne. “Max and I look forward to seeing you around.”

  Suzanne gasped. “I—”

  Angie didn’t wait for the rest of the reply, just took the food into the kitchen. He listened to her move around the space, heard a few drawers open and close, and knew that she’d be fine for a few minutes.

  “Things change,” he said into the silence. “I changed.”

  “I thought—”

  “That I’d just wait around like a pathetic puppy?” He saw the expression on Suzanne’s face. “You left,” he said. “I fought for you, for us, for Brayden, but you just left.”

  “I wasn’t happy.” Tears trailed down her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, Suzanne, but that doesn’t matter. Life gets hard and twisted and fucked up, and real relationships can weather that, but only if both parties stay and fight.” No longer having to actively hold her back from him, he released her wrists. “You didn’t fight for us, or me, or Brayden. You left.”

  “
I made a mistake.”

  He shook his head. “It’s too late.”

  “I miss you.”

  “No,” he said. “You miss being taken care of, you miss the money and the stability, but you don’t miss me.”

  “No, that’s not true. I do miss you,” she whined. “We were good together, and I miss—”

  Max nudged her out the door, started to close it. “Here’s a hint. The person you should be missing is Brayden,” he said. “Not me. Because he’s the only one you have a chance with. And if you screw up again or wait too long, I think that chance will disappear, too.”

  Click.

  He locked the door, leaned back against it, and sighed.

  “You okay?”

  Angie.

  He glanced up, saw the beautiful woman who had stolen his heart looking at him with so much compassion and concern that he couldn’t hold back the words. “I love you.”

  Her jaw dropped open. “What?”

  He crossed over to her, took her fingers in his. “I should have probably waited more than thirty seconds after slamming the door on my ex to tell you, but . . .”

  She bit her lip. “You love me?”

  Max nodded. “I do.”

  Those pale brown eyes warmed, her mouth curved. “Oh.” She spun back to the kitchen. “Well, the food is going to get cold—”

  He slid an arm around her waist. “You’re more worried about the food getting cold than me telling you that I love you?”

  Angie shrugged. “Priorities.”

  He poked a finger in the spot on her side that he’d discovered was ticklish. “Food over love?”

  She giggled. “Yup—” A little shriek as she whirled in his arms, grabbing his hand to halt the tickling. “I’m kidding”—a gasp—“I’m just kidding. I—uh—love—Stop!—you, too.”

  “Lies,” he said, but stilled his hand.

  Angie was pressed against him, breathing hard, and Max found that his own pulse picked up, that he was suddenly breathing hard, too. But then again, that was his body on Angie. She was nearby, and he was hard.

  It was as simple as that.

  “You love me?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Damn,” she said. “You do realize that means you’re stuck with me now, don’t you?”