Puck Prince (Houston Scythes Hockey #1)

26. Owen

26

OWEN

Every time Summer calls or shows up in the middle of the night or texts me that money is tight and she’s so sorry to do this, but —I show up. Every single time.

It’s what family does for each other.

It’s what I should’ve done for our mom, even though she never asked for help. Actually, she outright refused it more than once.

But right now, I’m fucking frozen.

Nicky is wailing, his cries echoing up and down the hallway. The paparazzi gathered outside can probably hear it right now. Articles are being written as we speak—and wail—about the unconsolable baby outside of Owen Sharpe’s apartment.

And there’s not a damn thing I can do to help.

I jab the elevator button, mapping out the fastest route to the hospital. I don’t know a single thing about babies, but I can drive. If we move his car seat to my car, then I can tear through the Houston traffic and get him there as soon as possible.

And then… what?

I sit around and hope for it all to end. The same way I sat in my room, listening to my mother get tossed around our house by a string of stepfathers who were all the fucking same.

I’ll sit in the waiting room and hope things turn out our way because there’s nothing I can do to fix this. There’s no punch I can throw, no money I can lay down—nothing at all that can be done about an immune system.

I’m helpless.

“Owen, unlock the door.” Callie’s voice breaks into my racing thoughts.

I turn around, and Callie is holding Nicky. Cradling him, really. She has him balanced on her forearm, her other hand rubbing circles on his squishy stomach.

Without me noticing, his crying has slowed.

Still, I shake my head. “We have to go to the hospital. We need to?—”

“Unlock the door, O,” Summer demands. Her eyes are still red-rimmed and her nose is snotty. She swipes it across her sleeve, and that yanks me out of my stupor.

I can’t do anything else, but I can unlock the door.

“When did this start?” Callie asks, walking calmly into my apartment for only the third time.

If we keep this up, I’m going to start getting used to the sight of her here.

“Yesterday, I guess. Afternoon,” Summer adds. “He was fine when I put him down for his nap, but he woke up congested and not wanting to eat. The rash on his stomach showed up late last night, but the rash on his head has been there for a couple weeks. I thought it would go away, but I guess— I’m not sure if— I just—” A sob wrenches out of her and something inside of me breaks.

Callie rests a hand on my sister’s arm. In another moment, that would be the headline. But right now, all I care about is Nicky.

“He needs to see a doctor,” I grit. “I’ll drive him to the ER. I’ll pay for it. We’re wasting time.”

“Just let me take a look.” Callie turns to Summer. “Is that okay?”

Summer nods. “Yes. God, please. I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried everything. I’m just… I’m so tired.”

“I’m sure you are.” Callie peels Nicky’s blanket away and assesses his stomach and his head. As he’s wailing, she peeks into his mouth, running her fingers over his gums. “Did he keep you up all night, then?”

“All. Night.” Summer drops her face into her hands. “I don’t know how he isn’t tired.”

“You should’ve called me.” I think about where I was last night—locked in my hotel bathroom, thinking about Callie—and I feel like shit. “I could’ve?—”

“Hijacked a private plane and flown home without the team?” Summer rolls her eyes. “You were busy, O. And I thought… I thought I could handle it.”

“It’s hard to handle anything on no sleep,” Callie points out. “You need a nap.”

“A nap,” Summer mock-laughs, her head dropping to my shoulder. “What’s that?”

“Do you know what’s wrong with him or not?” I press. The girl talk is great and all, but it’s not going to fix my nephew.

Callie continues to not give a shit about what I say as she rechecks his stomach, his head, and his gums. Then she covers him with the blanket again and rocks him. “I think it’s the perfect storm.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I bark.

She turns to my sister, instead. “I think Nicky is teething. His gums are red, and he’s drooling a lot, which could also be why he’s congested and has a runny nose.”

“That doesn’t explain the fever.” I still have one hand on my keys, ready to steal Nicky and bolt for the elevators.

“It could,” Callie insists. “Summer, you said the fever and stomach rash started after his nap? After he’d been crying for a while?”

Summer chews on her bottom lip as she nods. Her messy bun bounces wildly. “Yeah. It was late last night.”

“It could be stress.”

“It could also be leprosy,” I snap. “I mean, look at his head. That looks disgusting.”

Summer shoves me in the shoulder. “Hey! He’s had that for, like, two weeks, asshole. Don’t call my baby disgusting.”

“It’s cradle cap,” Callie says evenly.

“Shit,” Summer hisses. “That sounds— Is that bad? Is it my fault?”

Callie smiles, and the knot in my chest loosens ever-so-slightly. “No. It’s totally normal. It’s— Well, I don’t actually know what it is, but it’s like really bad dandruff.”

“Do they make baby Head and Shoulders?” Summer turns and slaps me in the chest. “Google it, O. ‘Baby Head and Shoulders.’ Now.”

I pull out my phone, but Callie shakes her head. “I think coconut oil might work.”

Summer slaps me in the chest again. “You’re Mr. Visible Abs. Do you have coconut oil or not?”

I’m almost ashamed to say that I do, but in the interest of being even slightly useful, I nod.

“What are you waiting for? Get it!” Summer is making every attempt to incinerate me with her eyes right now.

I snatch the oil out of the pantry and hand it to Callie. Meanwhile, Nicky lets out another ear-assaulting cry. “What else do we need?”

“If you give him a warm bath and lather this on his head, you can use a comb to scrape the cradle cap off,” Callie explains. “It’s kind of gross, but it works and it’s gentle on his scalp. It will probably help with the tummy rash, too.”

“And the fever?”

“It’ll go down after his bath, some milk, and some sleep,” Callie reassures us.

Callie pulls up a few tutorial videos on YouTube for Summer to watch. Then my sister pulls Callie into a long, tight hug.

When they finally break apart, Summer turns to me. “Keep this one around. She’s an angel.”

Then my sister disappears into the bathroom with Nicky, and Callie and I are alone in my apartment. Again.

I stare at the closed door, replaying the last ten minutes in my mind. I haven’t frozen like that in years. I thought I outgrew it, but… I guess not.

Nicky is still screaming, but Summer’s voice is soft and soothing. She’s not nearly as panicked as she was when we found her. And that’s all thanks to Callie.

“He’s going to be okay, you know.” It’s only when Callie speaks that I can finally break eye contact with the door. “And your friend is just really exhausted.”

She’s prodding me for info, just like she was on the plane. But I’m not ready for a deep conversation yet.

“I need a drink. Do you need a drink?” I’m already heading to the kitchen. “I need one.”

“I’d take some water.”

Getting the drinks gives me forty-five seconds to think about what to do next. It’s nowhere near long enough, but it’s what I’ve got.

It’s not that I’m worried about people knowing I have a sister. The internet is forever, and somewhere out there are pictures of Summer and I at some youth league hockey tournament or other. One of the few times my mom bothered to leave her dead weight of a husband behind and show up for a game, dragging Summer along with her.

But I’m worried about what it would mean for people to see me out with my sister. How long until they find out she has a baby? And how long after that before sleazy assholes are digging into her past and asking questions they shouldn’t?

As much as I want to know who the father of Summer’s baby is, I don’t want the dirtbag to get his fifteen minutes of fame off of my name. Even more, I don’t want him speaking to Summer. Ever. Again.

So, I won’t offer up anything until Callie asks. Then I’ll decide whether to tell the truth.

“How did you know what to do?” I ask after taking a long pull from a beer I snagged from the fridge. I lean against the counter to keep from pacing a trench into the kitchen floor, though I can’t keep my foot from tapping.

“I worked as a CNA when I was in college,” Callie says as she hops up to a seat on the counter. “It gave me more credits and also the money to pay for college.”

“Baptism by fire.”

“You could say that. I had to work around my classes, so I pretty much picked up any shift available. From emergency to oncology to pediatric.”

I cross my feet at the ankles. “So you’ve seen it all.”

“Twice. Which is why I’m not worried about Nicky. He’ll be fine.”

“Yeah. That’s…” I drag a hand over my head. “Shit, that’s good.”

She eyes me curiously. “It’s scary, though. Especially for parents.”

I feel her tapping against my walls, searching for a weak spot.

“Seeing Summer panic like that freaked me out. I wasn’t expecting them, and then she was hysterical and he was crying and… I panicked, too.” I take another sip of beer, letting it wash over my nerves. “Nicky has never been sick before.”

Callie takes a sip of her water, swirling the cup. “Nicky. Is that short for Nicholas?”

There’s another tap, tap . “Yeah.”

“Family name?”

If she’s going to insist we go there, I want to take the express route.

“Are you going to ask the question or are we going to keep dancing around it?”

Callie flicks blonde hair over her shoulder. “I don’t know what you?—”

“Callie.”

At the sound of her name on my lips, her blue eyes find mine. Something unspoken flashes between us, and then she rolls her eyes. “Random question for you, Owen: how is it that you know Summer and Nicky?”

I’ve been dreading this question, but I also can’t help but smile at the sarcastic edge to her voice. I have to bite it back. “Alright, I’m going to be real with you.”

She leans forward, locked in. This question has been on her mind longer than just today, that’s for sure.

“I feel like I can trust you, especially after everything you just did for Summer and Nicky. I feel like I owe you an explanation.”

Her face is almost as pale as her hair. I’m a little worried she’s going to faint as I rake a hand through my hair. “Summer is my sister.”

“Oh.” She sinks back in her stool, her brows pinching together. “Your… sister. She’s your sister?”

“Half-sister.”

“Half,” she breathes, so quietly I can barely hear her. “That makes Nicky your nephew?”

“Half-nephew.” Her brow arches, and I chuckle. “He’s just my nephew. I don’t know if half-nephew is even a thing. Maybe… nephew once removed? I don’t even know what that means.”

I study Callie’s face as she sits in silence. Until, slowly, a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

“What’s that?” I point at her lip, my finger close enough I almost touch her. “Why are you smiling?”

“Why are you so secretive about her? Are they the secret you’ve been trying to keep? Is this —” She gestures between the two of us. “—because of them?”

“It’s more complicated than that.” I guess if I am already this deep, I might as well keep going. But Nicky has actually stopped crying and the walls are too thin. I lower my voice. “Can we move to the balcony?”

Once we are outside, I sit down. Callie does, too.

“It’s not that it matters if people know I have a sister,” I explain haltingly. “What matters is that Nicky’s dad is a piece of shit.”

“Oh.” Her lips tip down in the corners.

“Yeah. Apparently he was a charmer… until he wasn’t.”

“I get that.” Callie’s sapphire eyes shift to a stormy blue. She’s somewhere far away. “Twice over.”

“He’s been out of the picture since the beginning. Ever since…” I have to pause and collect myself because, no matter how many times I think about it, my stomach always goes sour. “Ever since he attacked Summer.”

Callie isn’t breathing. She doesn’t even move.

I toy with the paper label on my beer. “I, uh, I don’t know the extent of it. But it was bad. Bad enough for us to have to go to the ER. And bad enough for her to hide in my bathroom for what felt like months until we found out she was pregnant.”

“Jesus.” Callie is staring at a spot on the tile. Her eyes are brimming with tears as if that sudden, shifty storm in them is about to break. “That’s so awful.”

I swallow back the hot ball of bile threatening to break my own floodgates. “So, yeah. I am just trying to protect them. I let her stay here when she’s freaked, and I help financially where she’ll let me. She’s very stubborn about it.”

“A family trait.”

“Encoded in the DNA, I guess.” I finish my beer in one long pull. When I turn to throw it away, I blink hard several times before I turn to face her again.

“Well,” she says softly, “I think it’s pretty amazing that you take care of them.”

“I’m doing the minimum. If I knew who the asshole was, I’d do a hell of a lot more.”

“You don’t know who Nicky’s father is?”

I shake my head. “She won’t tell me. She’s afraid I’ll kick his ass.”

“Would you?”

“If he was lucky.” My voice takes on a dark, sharp-edged quality I can’t shake. “If he wasn’t, I’d kill him.”

Callie sucks in her cheeks, and I hate that I’m scaring her. Even for a second.

“I’m not into violence. Funny, coming from a hockey player, I know. But I’ve had enough experience with it outside the rink to have had my fill. But… mess with the people I love? With the people who belong to me?” I shake my head, working my jaw from side to side. “That man—whoever the piece of shit is—would be smart to find a hole to hide in and stay there. Because if he comes around me or my sister again, I’ll bury him in it.”

I peek over, but Callie doesn’t look scared anymore. The storm in her eyes has cleared. Now, she’s biting back a smile.

“What’s that look?” This time, when I point to her smile, I touch the small dimple on the corner of her mouth.

Her lips part on an exhale I feel against the back of my hand. “It’s me realizing that you are stubborn and hot-tempered. Maybe we should call that ambulance, after all, because that is the perfect storm.”

“Only when I’m angry.”

“Are you angry now?” she asks.

I shake my head. “No.”

There’s no word for what I’m feeling now.

She’s a pain in my ass.

She knows more than she should.

And I can’t help but smile.

She stands up, and I follow suit. For a moment, we just face each other on the balcony where we met. I wonder if she’s remembering it all as vividly as I am.

I think she’s reaching for the door, but Callie grabs my hand instead. “Thanks for telling me that, Owen. For trusting me with it. Your secret is safe with me. And if I can ever help with anything, let me know. I know what it’s like to… to not feel safe.”

I want to ask a million questions—kick down a million doors—to figure out who made her feel unsafe.

I hate the idea that someone might’ve scared her.

I hate even more that I wasn’t there to stop it.

Without thinking, I’m taking one step closer and another.

This is so against our rules, but I shove the rules right off the balcony and pull Callie against me. She gasps, but I swallow the sound with a kiss.

Her cheek is warm against my palm, and her body softens into my chest. She’s soft everywhere, and I pull her closer, kiss her deeper.

And she kisses me back.

Her tongue slides with mine, her soft moan vibrating in my chest.

After a short eternity we both pull back, coming up for air and studying each other.

“Callie…”

“Yeah?”

“I want to?—”

“Hey, Owen?”

We both jump back. “Uh, yeah?” I shout in a choked voice to Summer calling from the bathroom.

“I need a towel.”

I clear my throat. Callie smiles up at me. “You take care of your nephew. I’ll see you later.”

With that, she leaves.

And it feels like she takes everything in me with her.