Second Shot K.O.K (The Brooklyn Bears: Season 1)

10. You Have Got to be Kidding Me

TEN

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME

Nalani

“ W as that the NHL player they call …” Claudia then whispers, “The Cock?”

Watching Koa walk to a waiting SUV through the dingy airport window with Dash, who clearly hates me, I nod. “Yeah.”

I knew I’d see him—that was the reason I was here—but the fact that it was at the airport, unplanned, and me looking like hell, blew my mind. I wanted to run after him—I’m still fighting that urge—to tell him I’m sorry, to try to explain, and hope he would understand.

“Word of advice?” she says, taking Savannah from me. “Stay away from the athletic ones; they’ll cause you nothing but heartache.”

“Why do I feel like you’re speaking from experience?” I ask, grabbing the handle of the luggage cart heaping with their luggage and mine. I begin pushing it toward the automatic doors.

Tears brim her eyes. “My ex is a hockey player.”

“Savannah’s father?” I ask boldly.

“I was here for an internship. We only dated, or hooked up, or whatever for a couple of months. I found out I was pregnant when I went back to start my last semester. I did the responsible thing and told him. He called me a gold digger.”

“Are you kidding me?” I ask, pissed for her as we get to the doors.

“Honestly, it was the biggest relief of my life. I would graduate with my doctorate in psychology a few weeks before she was born, and then it would be her and I. Now he’s demanding to meet her, which is fine, but I’m so afraid he will try to get shared custody. I have a job lined up in Texas; he plays in LA.”

“For the Lancers?” I ask.

“Yeah. He was traded from The Bears after the buyout. He was so angry they kept Deacon and not him. Truth: Deacon is a legend. Kyle’s flying in tomorrow, a day before their game, to meet Savannah.” She forces a laugh. “I can’t believe I’m laying this all on you.”

“You going to the game?” I ask.

“Not sure it’s the best place for a baby. Why? Do you need a wing woman and a half to live out your puck bunny fantasy? If so, let me be your cautionary tale.”

I shrug. “Koa Olu Kelekolio—aka, The Cock—never disappointed me. I disappointed him.”

“What?” she asks, looking at me like I may be a little unhinged.

“I’ll tell you all about it on our way to your hotel.”

She moves her eyes from me to the luggage, and then to Savannah before she asks, “Are you sure it’s not out of your way?”

“Yep, she thinks I’m crazy.” I laugh as I use all the energy I have left to stop the luggage buggy that outweighs me by ten times and pull my phone out of my pocket. I find my digital photo album that’s full of him and me and hand it to her. “I screwed up.”

She scrolls through a few then stops. “Wait—you were K.E.T?”

“Once K.E.T, always K.E.T.” I hold up both hands and make our sisterhood sign.

“We’re sisters!”

“I am so sorry about this,” Claudia says for the fourth time since we left the hotel.

“This is not your fault at all. It’s his.” I give her hand, which is visibly shaking, a squeeze. “You’d be perfectly within your rights to block his ass.”

“I could go back to the airport and try to change my flight and?—”

“You could, but now I’m stoked that my first night in my new place will be spent with a sister.”

“God, I loved undergrad.” She sighs then looks down at the car seat where Savannah sleeps. “But I love you even more.”

“I just met her, and I love her more than undergrad,” I admit, although freshman year was hands down the best year of my life .

Koa. Seeing him … gah, I have not even had the chance to process and dissect any of that twenty-second interaction yet. I’m still too lost in a Koa-sized haze to even begin to overthink how completely unaffected he was by seeing me for the first time in years because his mere presence brings me an unexplainable peace. A peace I may not deserve, but I will do whatever I can to tell him how sorry I am and hope he can forgive me.

“You’re quiet,” Claudia says.

“I am. You?”

“Exhausted.”

As the cab pulls up in front of a building, it looks nothing like the photos. However, I look at my GPS app, and it says I have arrived.

Regardless, I ask the driver, “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“This is 213 Waverly Place, heart or Greenwich, miss.”

“All right, then. Thank you.” I open the door and get out.

My first impression is mixed, but I remind myself that nothing will ever compare to Maui. The four-story brownstone has a certain vintage charm, and the same ornate details from the photos peek through the chipped paint on the trim and the door. Unfortunately, that’s about all the similarities I can force myself to see. The sidewalk is littered with debris, and a distant siren wails, but they don’t give me a welcome home vibe.

“Trash day’s tomorrow.” The driver chuckles as he walks to the back of the cab and pulls out the first of three bags.

I grab one, and Claudia starts to grab another.

“I have these; you have a baby and a giant diaper bag.”

“I’m so?—”

“Girl, hush,” I interrupt her before she can apologize again.

I drag the first of them up the pitted and chipped concrete stairs and, with my phone light, find the lock box where I was told my keys would be waiting, hanging by one screw. As I begin to tap in the combination, I realize it’s not even fully latched.

“Everything okay?” Claudia asks.

Not wanting to make her night any worse than it already has been, and trained from birth in hospitality, I nod and say, “Yep.”

I use the key to unlock it then turn the wobbly, rusted knob, which does not seem to have even been latched, and push open the large wooden door that creaks loudly.

“Go ahead in. I’ll grab the other suitcases.”

Once I get them inside, I shut and lock the door behind me. Then I enter the dimly lit hallway that is narrow, with peeling wallpaper, and it smells a bit like mildew.

“It has great character. I like it,” Claudia says.

“And thankfully, it has an elevator. Forth flour, here we come.”

When we get to the end of the long hall, my eyes wander toward the doors that seem to be leading outside, and I desperately want to see that hen house, but also, I’m too damn tired, and so is Claudia.

“Oh boy,” Claudia sighs.

I glance back in her direction and see the sign duct taped to the elevator. “ Out of Order .”

I blow the fallen hair from my eyes and laugh because: what else can you do?

“Well, we won’t have to do cardio anytime soon.”

“We’ll go up, and I’ll set Savannah’s seat somewhere, and she’ll sleep so you can take in your new place.”

I glance around. “I’m not sure it’s safe to leave our stuff down here.”

“I haven’t heard a peep since we walked in. I’m guessing the tenants are all asleep.” As if on cue, she yawns.

“Let’s do this.”

I manage to muster up some strength—maybe nervous energy is more apt—and carry her two cases up, which most likely weigh the same as my own.

When we finally reach the fourth floor, I’m breathless and my muscles are aching.

“You okay?”

“I didn’t realize how out of shape I was,” I admit as I look at the door to the apartment. The paint is flaking off the wooden door, but the number 4 looks to be freshly painted … by a child.

I don’t bother checking the lock; I give the knob a twist and, unsurprisingly, the door swings open to reveal the empty apartment inside. “After you.”

“I smell bleach and cleaning supplies,” Claudia says as she steps into the dark room, lit only by the moonlight coming through the window.

“Well, I guess that’s a plus.” I pull the suitcases inside and get a better look. I hit a light switch, which turns on four floor lamps placed in the corners of the area.

Not unlike the outside of the building, the apartment also appears as if the photos on the management website were taken a decade ago, if not more. The space is clean enough, and it doesn’t smell like mildew. The walls are a drab beige and need a coat of paint. There’s a small sofa against the wall, though I asked that the space be unfurnished. Nevertheless, it will come in handy tonight. I’ll sleep there so Claudia and Savannah can have the bedroom that I know has a bed since I received an email confirmation that it was delivered and set up.

“I’ll head down and grab?—”

“No, I want to.” I point at the three doors on the far wall. “The room to the left should have a brand-new bed.” I cup my ear. “It’s calling your name.”

“I couldn’t.”

“I insist. I need to”—I wave my hand about—“check out everything.”

Walking down the stairs as opposed to up should be a breeze, but I am a million percent dragging ass. At the bottom, I glare at my suitcase as if by intimidating it, it will make it less challenging. When I think I see something near the elevator, I rub my eyes because there’s no way there’s a freaking chicken in the …

“Oh my God,” I whisper as I watch it head toward the back doors. Then I slowly walk toward the little cutie, trying not to scare it away.

When it looks back and sees me, I freeze. We stare at each other for several moments before it turns its head and begins pecking at the door.

“You want out there?” I ask as I slowly walk toward the door; she doesn’t move. “The apartment manager told me there weren’t any hens around here.” I unlock the door, pull it open, and little Miss Henny struts outside, down a little ramp, and toward … a waiting cock.

I watch her walk past him and toward the hen house that I can’t quite make out because it’s dark, but I can safely assume it’s rundown like the rest of the place. The fancy-tailed mister follows her, and they eventually make their way up a little ramp and into the hen house.

Turning back around and grabbing my luggage, I take the stairs, the wooden treds sighing under the combined weight of me and my luggage. I lug my bag up one stair at a time when I decide I’m going to do as Henny and Cock are doing—hit the hay, so to speak.

I wake to a loud belch and a whispered laugh.

“That was a good one, my sweet.”

Yawning through a smile, I stretch out as best I can on the most uncomfortable sofa I’ve ever sat on, and even before opening my eyes, I see that the sun is already up. It seems like I just went to bed. That has a lot to do with the fact I did. My intentions were to fall asleep, but then I remembered I needed a bath, which caused me to open my suitcase for my toiletries, then decide to hang as many of my clothes up in the spare bedroom, which is actually smaller than my closet at home. I then lay there and placed an online order for household items I needed and another for groceries to grab.

I stand up and stretch, listening to Claudia whispering to Savannah, then walk across hardwood floors that have seen better days and lightly tap on the door.

When she opens it, she immediately begins, “I’m sorry if we woke you.”

“You and I will have a long conversation about you constantly apologizing.”

“Can we do that after I pee?” she asks.

“Oh my God, go.” I laugh as she starts toward the bathroom, but I have to stop her. “Gimme Savannah and pee, shower, do whatever you need to do.”

She hands me Savannah, asking, “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am.” I smile down at the most beautiful, little dark-haired, bluish-green-eyed beauty in the crook of my arm. “There’s shampoo, conditioner, body wash, all in there. Use it up. I have more coming, along with groceries.”

“You’re the best,” she says as she walks into the bathroom.

“There’s one fresh towel,” I call after her.

“The absolute best,” she replies.

Once Claudia is in the bathroom, I walk over to the window and stare out over the street, happy to see the trash has, in fact, been cleaned up … mostly.

“But who cares about that when I am holding you? I swear my heart is going to break for the third time when you and your mommy head onto the next chapter in your life.” I lean in and whisper, “You wanna know why?”

Of course she doesn’t answer; she just stares up at me.

“I’ve never held a baby before, and it had a lot to do with worrying I wouldn’t do it right, because I wasn’t raised by a woman who had one motherly bone in her body. But honestly, I’m not sure that would matter much—there is something so special about you.”

I am about to sit down and soak up all the snuggles I can when my phone rings.

“There are a million things to learn, Savannah, but one of the most important is using the decline call button. It allows you to keep centered and sane.” When I pick up the phone and see who’s calling, I laugh. “But always accept calls from those who bring you joy.”

I hit accept . “Hey Sofia, how?—”

“You’re in my city, and you haven’t called, texted, or sent a message?” she interrupts immediately. “I’m feeling some sort of way?—”

“I had every intention of calling after I settled in.”

“I could have helped you settle in,” she huffs.

“The Gram told me you were in Paris.”

“This is true.” She sighs, as if defeated. “But I’m here now. Well, I hope not here because here is sketchy.”

“What?” I laugh.

“Girl, update your location so I can tell my driver where to go. I’m outside of a busted-down brownstone and?—”

“Wait—what?”

“Unless you’ve been trafficked, and your captor allowed you to take this call, I’m in the wrong location.”

I hurry over to the window and look down to the street. “Sof, are you in a black SUV?”

“Oh my God, are you running from the law or?—”

I laugh. “Look up.”

“You’re shitting me,” she gasps.

“I wouldn’t shit you; you’re my favorite turd.”

“What are you doing in a place like this?” she asks as I watch her throw her hand in the air dramatically.

“You gonna come up here, or is it not good enough for your fancy ass?”

“I would walk through fire for you, and apparently, wherever this is, too,” she grumbles as she leans back into the vehicle then turns, hands full.

“Is that coffee?” I ask.

“Nope.” She pops the P.

“Cocoa?” I ask, trying not to jump for joy since Savannah is in my arms.