War (Boston Bolts Hockey #3)

8. Ava

EIGHT

AVA

Why is it that when a woman harps on something, she’s labeled as difficult or whiney, but when a man does it, the woman in his life is expected to put up with it without complaint?

“How do you forget to tell your boyfriend you’re leaving an event we attended together? It’s like you don’t care about me at all.”

I consider my words for what feels like the seven hundredth time this week. It’s not that I forgot about Xander, per se… Okay, maybe I did. But admitting that won’t do me any favors. It’s that Josie took precedence over everything else in that moment. Then the shock of her adoption—and the identity of the person doing the adopting—threw me for a loop.

I didn’t check my phone until the next morning, so I understand why Xander was mad. What confuses me, maybe even irritates me, is that an hour after the first where are you? text, he messaged that he was headed home, and I didn’t hear from him again. He didn’t seem all that concerned about my well-being. In fact, I heard through the grapevine that he went out with a few of the younger Bolts players. Unlike Brooks and Aiden, the younger guys go out pretty regularly, and when they do, they’re surrounded by puck bunnies. I’d like to think Xander doesn’t notice the women, but I’m not na?ve.

But since I’m the one who forgot about him, I can’t really say anything about his whereabouts that night.

I reach across the car and squeeze his thigh. “I’m really sorry. It was selfish of me, but truly, I care about you. I hope you know that. When I heard Josie was in the hospital, I shut down. You know how that stuff affects me.”

Xander links his fingers with mine. The move instantly reminds me of why I’m with him. He really is a kind, caring guy. And I’m a jerk for having forgotten all about him.

Because he’s right, I 1,000 percent did.

“Try not to forget about me tonight, yeah?” He pulls my fingers to his lips and kisses them. As the light ahead turns red, he stops and eyes me. “You look beautiful.”

Heat creeps into my cheeks. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

He’s dressed in a deep green sweater and a pair of corduroy pants, and as always, his dark hair is trimmed short, and it’s gelled and professional. His brown eyes are warm as they rove over me, and his face is smooth. He spends quite a bit of time and money on his skincare routine, and it’s paying off.

When the light turns green, Xander blows out a breath. “I just wish we were celebrating anywhere but his house tonight. Maybe next year we can spend the holidays with your family.”

Humming, I focus my gaze out the window. Christmas at War’s house will surely be different from how my family celebrates.

My mother always went all out, with decorations and magic galore. I don’t see Tyler Warren going that route, even if his house is as far as it can get from the bachelor pad one would expect him to have. I actually can’t see him hosting Christmas, period.

His father suggested we all spend the evening at the lakeside home so that Tyler wouldn’t have to travel with the kids. The entire family was just as shocked as me to learn that Tyler was raising three children. Apparently there’s an older boy named Brayden, along with Josie and Scarlett. Obviously I’m ecstatic about seeing Josie. We’ve been FaceTiming daily since I saw her at the hospital, but we haven’t had that playdate yet. She’s off school for the next two weeks, so with any luck, we can see each other at least once more during the holiday break. Despite my eagerness to see my sweet girl, I never could have imagined spending my first holiday with Xander at the home of my sworn enemy.

The two men couldn’t be more different.

Xander is sweet, and despite the night out he had with the Bolts players, I’ve never known his eyes to wander. He hasn’t ever stood me up. If anything, he’s always around. Sometimes even when I don’t necessarily want him there. Hell, he comes to more of the Bolts charity things than War.

Not to be cheeky, but War just skates by on his talent and good looks. He shows up—late—and charms everyone around him with ease. He never gives his full attention to any conversation or topic, always scrolling through his phone when we’re out at bars—because yes, my best friends are with his best friends so we’re often together—zoning in and out of conversation, unless one of the guys is talking to him. They’re about the only people in existence he deems worthy of his sole focus. The girls he hangs out with? Never. He’s a playboy interested in only one thing, and he somehow manages to find women who are clueless enough, or maybe desperate enough, to give him what he wants despite the minimal effort he puts in.

“Excited to see Josie?” Xander asks, pulling me from my musings.

My chest tightens. “I really am. I’ve never wanted kids, but I’d do just about anything for her.”

Xander’s warm eyes find mine again. “I know, baby. Because you’re an angel.”

As we turn onto War’s street, darkness settles around us, bringing with it a sense of dread.

“And,” Xander says, oblivious to the shift, “I’m so glad you’re mine.”