Page 9 of Home Ice

“You think it’s weird that his mom died and now Jensen is back in town?”

All the thoughts in my head come to a grinding halt. “Wait, what happened?”

“You didn’t hear? Happened a week or so ago. My walking group was talking about it.”

“Holy shit.” My thoughts immediately spin to Kasen Delany. The focused, snarky, lanky kid who joined the team this year. His resemblance to Hawke is absolutely uncanny, and while I refuse to speculate, I couldn’t help asking him about his parents.

“Mom’s annoying, but she’s the best. My dad is an asshole who ran out on us because he didn’t want a kid.”

His answer had made me suspicious, and the curiosity was almost too much, but I didn’t let myself pry more. Running out on a kid isn’t something I can imagine Hawke doing, but at the expense of hockey? That’s all he ever was, and I’d like to say I think higher of him than that, but it’s been a really long time. Instead, I kept a closer eye on Kasen than I usually do with my players. He’s always the first one at training and the last one to leave, so I’ve had more time with him than most.

I don’t know whether to hurt over the fact that he’s lost his mom, who he was close with, or spiral over the fact that all my suspicions might be correct.

Is he Hawke’s son?

And did Hawke really run out on them to live his dream?

No matter how many times I question whether I made the right decision with Dad, I know it was the only one.

I could never abandon someone who needed me.

I guess Hawke and I were never as similar as we thought.

Chapter Three

JENSEN

I’ve lost track of where all my limbs are when Amelia and the kid approach. Obviously, I knew he was fourteen, but I don’t think I knew what fourteen actually looked like. I don’t spend much time around kids.

When Lachie moved in with me, he was nineteen, and he’d been playing hockey his whole life, so he looked every bit an adult. How he acted was debatable sometimes, but there are some days I barely act like an adult either.

I was expecting fourteen to be all pimply and tiny, but as he approaches, he’d only be a head shorter than me. He’s got the form of someone who’s grown a lot in a short period of time, and he moves like his broad, wire-thin shoulders are carrying him.

“Thank you for inviting us over,” Amelia says to my parents as Gigi digs her elbow into my side.

I bat her away, focused on keeping the smile plastered to my face, but I’m losing track of that as well.

I have a fucking son.

Other than the once-over he gave me when he climbed out of the car, he hasn’t looked my way, but I can’t stop drinking in his features. My nose, my hair, my eyes. The way one of his ears sticks out further than the other, which, thankfully, I know is something he’ll grow into. But here and there is a peek at Carly—her bowed lips, the sharp chin, the way he’s standing with his arms crossed, fingers digging imprints into his biceps, the same way she did when she got upset.

I know that I’m probably the one who’s supposed to say something, but my mind is completely blank.

Amelia’s dark blue eyes meet mine. “You must be Jensen.”

I met her a handful of times as a kid, but she clearly doesn’t remember me. Or she’s giving us a fresh start. Whatever it is, I’ll play along. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t return it. There’s a deep pinch in the corners of her lips as she steps to the side. “And this is Kasen.”

Kasen. Fuck.

I wait to see if he says something, but his gaze is still locked on the ground.

“It’s …” My words falter. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Yeah.” He barely breathes the word, but the sound of his voice is jarring.

“Let’s go inside,” Mom says as Dad pulls open the door behind me.