Puck Prince (Houston Scythes Hockey #1)

52. Owen

52

OWEN

“The new PT blows,” Dax groans, all the while walking like he got beat up for his lunch money.

“He’s not the new PT.” I practically hurl two fifty-pound dumbbells to the floor of the training room.

“Yeah, Callie will be back.” Heath looks hopefully to me. “She will be back, right?”

Since the accident, she hasn’t been at work. As nice as it is not to run into her, I also feel like shit about it. The whole point of our fake relationship was to keep Summer out of the camera lens and keep Callie’s job running smoothly. Clearly, that’s going great.

“Yes, she’ll be back.” I grab my towel and wipe my face off.

I’m very much not in the mood to be around any of them. I’m not in the mood to be around anyone.

Heath lets out a sigh of relief. “Good, ‘cuz that new guy is basically just using KT tape as waxing strips. My legs look like I got in a fight with a lawn mower.”

“Might as well grab your lady razor and finish the job,” Miles jabs.

“Venus razors make your skin soft, so fuck you. I haven’t had a razor burn on my neck in months!”

All the guys laugh, but I’m done. I grab my bag. “I’m heading out.”

“Aren’t you getting a beer with us?” Dax asks. “It’s Friday.”

“Not today.”

They start to argue, but Lance waves everyone back. “Let him go.”

I feel bad dipping, but the only thing worse than seeing Callie around the arena is not seeing her.

I drive home, my mind going to the same dark place it goes every time I’m alone. The conversation at the hospital has been on repeat in my brain non-stop. It’s like a bruise I can’t help but press on.

Was I too harsh?

Did I make a mistake?

Then I remind myself that Callie could have died.

Anything I do to make sure that never happens is the right choice.

As soon as I get home, I drop my stuff by the door and head to the fridge. The tray of bottle caps at the bottom of my Plinko bottle opener is overflowing. When I pop this cap, it falls straight to the floor.

Before I can decide if I should pick it up or not, my door opens. Summer walks in.

“Take this.” She hands me Nicky and walks down the hall. “I have to pee.”

“Hello to you, too,” I call out, juggling my nephew and a beer bottle at the same time.

“It’s terrible out there,” she says, the bathroom door obviously cracked while she pees.

Sisters are great.

“I had to duck between reporters just to get inside the building.” I hear her flush and wash her hands before she reappears in my kitchen. “I mean, look at me. Give me a canvas bag with a dollar sign printed on the side, and I look like a cartoon bank robber.”

She’s wearing a dark oversized hoodie and thick black shades.

Nicky giggles and squirms in my arms, smiling at her like he hasn’t seen her in days. She matches his energy and snatches him out of my arms. “Anyway, how are you doing, big brother?”

I haven’t told her much. Only that Callie and I are on the outs. Unlike everyone else who is practically peeling back the curtains of my private life to peek through the windows, she patiently waited for me to come to her.

Sisters can be great.

“Shitty.” I take a sip of my beer and watch as Nicky chews on her drawstrings. He’s getting chunky and drooling like a basset hound.

“Come on now. Use your big boy words. Uncle Owen has a potty mouth,” she says to Nicky in a baby voice.

“I want to be there for her.”

“So be there for her.”

“I’m also trying to put space between us.”

“I see where the issue is. Those two things contradict each other.” She rifles through one of my cabinets before pulling out several Tupperware containers and lids and carrying them into the living room. She drops them in front of Nicky like a treasure trove, and he lights up at his new “toys.”

I sit on the couch. “It’s complicated.”

“Is it, though?” She looks up at me. “Does she make you happy?”

“What?”

“It’s an easy question, Owen.” But she slows it down for me like I might be slow. “Does Callie make you happy?”

I have no idea where she is going with this, but I answer. “Yeah. I mean, she drives me fucking insane and always has. But when I’m with her, and we aren’t being chased by crazy people, yeah… I like the way I feel when I’m with her.”

“Do you think she feels the same?”

I think about it. The smiling. The flirting. The kissing. The… other stuff. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Do you love her?”

I almost choke on my next sip of beer. “ Do I love her? What kind of question is?—”

“It’s an easy question. God, you men make this so much more work than it needs to be. If you like being with her, she makes you happy, and you think she feels the same way, what’s left to figure out?” She shakes her head in disappointment as she pads into the kitchen for a beer. “Plus, she’s having your baby. It’s simple.”

“Except that it’s not! She’s not even really my girlfriend.”

“What do you mean she’s not your girlfriend?” Summer’s voice is muffled as she digs through my fridge before reappearing with a bottle. “Did you break up?”

“Yes and no.”

“Explain the yes .”

I run my hand through my hair. I’m going to need something stronger than Budweiser the way this is going. “I felt like it was best for her to stay away from me.”

“Okay, we are definitely going to circle back to that, but I want to hear the no explanation first.”

“No, we didn’t break up because I don’t think you can break up with someone if you were never actually dating them to begin with.”

The bottle freezes on the way to Summer’s mouth, her eyes scanning my face as she processes. “Wait. You were never dating?”

“Not exactly. Not… for real.”

She’s still just staring at me, and I realize it is in my best interest to keep talking. “I told everyone we were a couple to get the press to calm their tits… and to… leave you alone.” I mumble the last part before downing the rest of my beer.

“I’m sorry. You did what ?”

I sigh. “Miles told me that the best way to get the press to leave you alone is to look like you’re happily in love. So, when the coach was grilling Callie and me about the recent gossip, I panicked and announced that Callie was my girlfriend.”

Nicky has lost interest in the containers already and is crawling over to me, pulling on my gym pants in a wobbly attempt to stand up. I scoop him up and bounce him on my knee. Honestly, with the look on Summer’s face right now, I’m kind of glad I have a buffer, even if he is drooling down my wrist.

Summer marches over, beer in hand, angry eyes locked on me. “First off, Miles doesn’t know shit about relationships or women or love. End of story. And second, what in the actual fuck were you thinking?”

“Mommy has a potty mouth,” I whisper to Nicky who is too busy chewing on his hand to care.

“Owen, I don’t know what’s worse,” she snaps. “That you used Callie to redirect the limelight or that you used me as an excuse.”

“I didn’t use you. I was trying to?—”

“To what? Protect me?” She mimes pulling out her own hair. “Owen, I understand what you’ve been through with our mom. But you have to stop trying to bubble wrap the people you care about.”

“That’s what I’m doing! What I’m trying to do, anyway. I can’t protect Callie from the press, but the only reason they care about her is me. So, I removed myself from the equation.” My next sip of beer hits my stomach like an anvil. I feel hollow. “I’m taking a step back from her. And I’m going to find you and Nicky a safer place to live.”

“Absolutely not.” Summer shakes her head. I’m not surprised she is fighting me on this. “I’ve moved enough. I’m not moving again. I’m tired of running, Owen.”

“And I’m tired of watching you and Callie get hurt!”

I can feel the emotion balling in the back of my throat. I swallow hard, blinking fiercely. I go to take a drink just to have something to do with my hands, but my bottle is empty. I stand up and make my way to the kitchen, my jaw clenching and unclenching as I go.

Summer knows me well enough to let me take a second. She lets me open the bottle and take a sip.

I still have Nicky in tow. Something about holding him seems to help me from completely losing it. He’s taken an interest in the embroidered numbers on my jersey, running his small finger across the textured grooves. He smells like yogurt and that pink powdery lotion. I kiss the top of his bald head, keeping my chin there for a moment.

Then I say it. Without moving my head, without looking at Summer, I say the words out loud for the first time.

“I love her. You’re right.”

“I know,” Summer says sadly.

“And she could have died.”

“I know. But Owen, you could have died, too.”

“That doesn’t matter.” I take a sip of my beer, swallowing hard.

“It does. You matter, too. What you want and need is important. You can’t disregard yourself for other people. You can’t sacrifice yourself completely for the benefit of the people you love.”

I’m looking in her direction but not at her. I feel too guarded right now. I take another sip. “Isn’t that what love is? Protecting the ones you love at all costs?”

Summer stands up and walks over to me. She kisses Nicky on top of the head, but her eyes, soft and brimmed with tears, are on mine. “Love is meeting a person in the middle and taking care of each other. It’s not a one-way street.”

She leans forward, catching my eyes, forcing me to look at her.

“Love is not a man who comes in and hurts women and children to get what he wants. Love is not watching your child cry while you make bad choices with bad men all because you’re trying to fill a void. Love is not a coward who takes advantage of a woman and then spends all his time making sure she’s terrified.”

I know she’s not talking about me. She’s talking about our mom. About her ex. And Callie’s.

“I guess I don’t know how to love, then,” I choke out.

Summer smiles. “Yes, you do. You’re amazing at it. Nicky and I wouldn’t be where we are if it weren’t for you. Callie wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you. You’re not bad at loving other people. It’s loving yourself that you need to work on. Because that’s what helps you unconditionally love the ones who need you.”