War (Boston Bolts Hockey #3)

12. Ava

TWELVE

AVA

I lie in bed beside Josie until long after her breathing evens out. I don’t know when I’ll see her again, when I’ll get to comfort her again, and that knowledge is like a knife to the chest. When I finally force myself to roll out of her bed, I know I’ve been in here for far too long.

I can only imagine how livid Xander is, but I can’t get myself to care about his feelings right now.

Josie wishes I could be her mom. The feeling is 100 percent mutual, and I don’t think I’ve wished for something so hard since I was sitting in a hospital bed beside my sister all those years ago.

Determined to make a plan to see her again—even if it means sucking up to War and playing nice—I head down the steps.

It’s eerily quiet downstairs. The only sound is the low Christmas music still playing.

“Hello?” I stand in the middle of the empty living room and turn in a slow circle. The main floor is one big, open space, so there’s nowhere for Xander and his family to hide, yet all I find as I scan the house are the dinner dishes drying on the counter and the Christmas tree glowing in the dark living room.

I spot my purse on the table and scurry toward it, in search of my phone. As I reach it, the door to the deck opens. Relief floods me as a figure steps inside. Though the feeling is quickly crushed when the man comes into focus. Rather than Xander, War is the one who pads through the room, his head down and a hand raking through his dark and unruly hair.

“Is everyone outside?” I frown because it’s clear the deck is empty.

With snowflakes melting in his hair, Tyler stiffens, and his blue eyes go wide with surprise. He’s changed into red-and-green flannel pants in the same pattern as the pajamas I helped Josie into not long ago. With a blink, his eyes go back to their normal cool blue, and he lowers his brow, studying me. “Did you forget something?”

“Uh…” I look around the room. “Apparently my ride?” The words come out harsher than I mean for them to, so I force myself to take a deep breath in and let it back out. “Xander’s not outside on the deck by chance, is he?” Humiliation has my cheeks heating, but I work to keep my voice steady. I will not cry in front of Tyler Warren. He’d never let me live that down.

He stalks closer, though his movements are easy, comfortable. “Everyone left.”

My stomach sinks. “This has to be a mistake. I’m calling Xander.”

With a dismissive shrug, he wanders toward the fireplace.

Hands shaking, I dig my phone from my purse. Once I lift it and the screen illuminates, my unease turns to annoyance. There isn’t a single text or missed call notification waiting for me. Xander really left without a word. I hit his name in my contact list. Rather than ring, the call goes to voicemail. I pull the device away from my face and stare at it, dumbfounded. As I’m blinking, at a loss, a text pops up.

Xander: Out with the guys. Hope you enjoyed playing house with my stepbrother’s kids tonight.

A jolt of shock courses through me. Is he—did he—is this for real?

“He coming back for you?” Tyler asks over his shoulder as he pulls the metal curtain of the fireplace closed.

With a hand to my throat, I zero in on the flames licking up the logs and growing in strength and size. “No—he’s, uh—” I clear my throat and force myself to look at the man across the room. “No, I think we’re over. ”

That’s probably putting it mildly. We’re definitely over. There’s no coming back from him leaving me at his freaking brother’s house on Christmas Eve to go out to a bar with his friends. I could ignore the rumors I’ve heard in the past about him going out, but there’s no writing this off as a bad night.

War’s blue eyes widen and practically glow in the firelight. “He left you here?” With a low groan, he pushes to stand, as if the move is painful. He shakes it off quickly and strides across the room, his attention now fixed on my phone. “Did he just break up with you? In a text?” His focus returns to my face, his expression knowing, as if he can read every thought in my head.

Maybe? I don’t know. But we’re done either way.

Can I even blame him? He’s right. I was playing house, longing to be part of Josie’s family. I’d happily do it for the rest of my life. But when the subject of having a family with Xander came up after dinner, I practically recoiled. I thought he understood why I felt that way, though. Thought I’d sufficiently explained why having kids of my own is not in the cards.

War hovers close, his scent assaulting me. It’s not bad. Not at all. And that’s a problem. Because I want to sink into him. I want to bury my face in his soft white T-shirt and inhale the smell. Hold it in my lungs. Cling to the comfort it’s created.

“I’ll, uh—” I lift the phone. “Call an Uber and be out of your way shortly. Sorry.”

Jaw locked tight, War grasps my wrist. “It’s Christmas Eve.”

I lower my head and bite down on my lip. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m sure I’m the last person you want here right now.”

He slides his thumb across the inside of my wrist. “Ava.” His voice is soft, soothing.

I don’t dare look up. Not with the way my eyes are filling with tears.

“Ava, look at me.”

I steal all the courage I have, blink back the moisture in my eyes, and force my chin up.

“You’ll stay here. You’ll wake up tomorrow and have Christmas morning with us.” He smiles. “Josie will be thrilled. ”

I give him a single nod. I can’t form words right now. I’m humiliated. Angry. And maybe the tiniest bit relieved.

Maybe more than a tiny bit.

Because Xander did me a favor by leaving me here. If I don’t have to leave yet, then I don’t have to say goodbye to Josie yet.

My heart lifts at the thought of her waking up and finding me here. “Yeah?”

I hate how hope teases my tone. Our history makes trusting War to not laugh and say “no, obviously I don’t want you to stay here” nearly impossible.

“Yeah.” He releases my hand. “Let me grab you something to sleep in.” Without waiting for a response, he turns and jogs up the stairs.

The second he’s out of sight, I wrap my hand around my wrist and rub at the spot he just stroked. I’ve always been particularly careful about the clothes I wear, making sure to keep my arms covered. Bulky sweaters, long sleeves even on the hottest days of summer. No one touches the bare skin on my arms. Not even Xander.

When my phone buzzes in my hand, I almost drop it. My mind is all over the place. It takes a couple of heartbeats for the name on the screen to register, but when it does, I immediately answer.

“Hey,” Hannah says before I can greet her. “Did something happen between you and Xander?” This woman. She has no trouble getting to the point. But how the heck does she know about tonight?

“Um…yeah, pretty sure we broke up. Why?”

“Ass,” she hisses, though it’s barely audible over the voices in the background. The sounds fade quickly, like maybe she’s walking away from a group. “I just got a text from a reporter who spotted Jasper at a strip club. Seriously, is it too much to ask to go a single night without having to clean up his messes? It’s Christmas Eve, for god’s sake.”

Jasper Quinn is the first baseman for the Boston Revs and the bane of Hannah’s existence. He’s constantly being caught in compromising positions, which means she spends more time than she should spinning stories for the jerk. If he doesn’t clean up his act soon, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that Beckett Langfield has traded him. If—or maybe when?—that happens, Hannah will probably go on a shopping spree to celebrate .

“I hate that you have to deal with him when you should be relaxing and celebrating.” It’s all I can think to say. I’m at a loss for how Jasper’s escapades are connected to Xander. Seeking comfort, I head toward the fire. I settle beside the large brick hearth, soaking in the warmth. “Are you with your family?”

“Yeah, the dads are all in town for the holidays and a few of my brothers too.” It sounds like she’s covered her mouth when she adds, “But I think she’s already tired of husband number five. He didn’t make the trip.”

I bite my lip to hold in my laugh. Hannah talks about all of her mother’s ex-husbands in such a funny way. There are four of them, and she’s remained close with all of them as well as their many sons. I’m not surprised at all. Anyone who meets Hannah would want to keep her around.

She clears her throat. “The reporter sent me a picture. Xander was in it too.”

Of course. Any time he meets a guy who plays for one of the Langfield teams, he cozies up to them in hopes that they’ll hire him to do their financial planning. He’s done a decent job with the rookies who don’t have ties to the area, Jasper being one of them.

My stomach twists at the idea of my boyfriend leaving me here to go to a strip club. At the idea that he planned to drop me off at home alone on Christmas Eve to go to said strip club. “Do I want to see the picture?”

“Probably not, but if I were you, I’d make myself look at it anyway. It’ll help you remember to never get back together with the ass. Oh! Now we can go on a have a day vacation!”

Despite the circumstances I find myself in, I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. Hannah doesn’t put up with bullshit. She doesn’t date, either, so it’d be hard for her to get back together with an ex. But she does have a fund she sets aside for friends who are stupid enough to date and then suffer a break up. She calls them ‘ have a day ’ vacations. Knowing Hannah, it involves lots of booze and lots of shopping. Sounds like a perfect day. “Fine. Send it over.” With a sigh, I take in the Christmas tree, examining the ornaments. I get caught on the tiny ballerina hung beside a hockey player. Rather than twisting, my stomach is back to flipping. Crap. I’m not sure which is worse. “Merry Christmas,” I say, ready to end the call and the night.

“Wait. You’re clearly not with Xander, so where are you?”

“With Josie,” I say, instantly imbued with some of the strength that disappeared when I discovered Xander had left.

“Aw, say Merry Christmas to our favorite girl for me. Brunch Sunday?”

“You know it.”

And if I’m lucky, maybe War will let me bring Josie along. Maybe I won’t be her aunt. And obviously I’m not her mom. But if I can find a way to be friends with War, there’s a chance I can still be someone she can depend on.