Chapter 36
Brynn
In the mirror, I could see Cam's face turning as red as a tomato. He'd just hit depth on a ninety-five-pound squat—his heaviest attempt yet—and was trying to grind his way out of the box.
“Push, push, push!” I yelled from behind.
Cam growled, legs and core trembling, as he summoned the strength to push through the squat. There was a loud metal clang as he racked the bar, followed by an excited whoop, and I gave Cam a high five.
Nick, psyched to match his brother's physical feat, took his place under the bar.
“You can do it, Nick! C'mon!” I cheered as I got ready to spot him.
I understood now why Shea had asked me to train the boys—it wasn't a given that they'd be blessed with Shea's tall, wide frame. On one hand, it was so sad that Shea didn't know who their father was—was it another teammate of his? Was it someone else? On the other hand, it was sort of beautiful in a sad way that Shea could do his best to grin and bear it, and raise the kids as his own, and make sure they had every opportunity to have the success he had.
Shea was right. My ex, Mikey, was a boy. Shea? He was a man. A great man.
He hadn't even blinked at my crazy speech about adopting. Well, he didn't exactly sound enthralled about having another kid … but I could tell he meant it when he said he'd do it for me. Obviously, it was too early to think about that kind of thing. But then again, like I told Shea and the other guys I've tried to date—I just didn't have the time to waste on games.
Nick matched his brother's squat. Cam, of course, was ready to throw more weight on the bar to prove he was stronger.
But I pointed at the clock. “Dad's game is about to start, boys!”
We left the gym and put the game on in the man cave.
***
Halfway through the game, neither team had scored, but it was obvious that the Boston Brawlers weren't going down without a fight. If anything, Boston had the upper-hand—though they hadn't scored, they skated with an intensity that Tampa was having trouble matching.
And the twins were completely immersed in the emotions of the game, jumping around on the couch and yelling at the top of their lungs:
“Go Lance, go!”
“Shoot it, Radar!”
“Go, Dad! HIT HIM!”
“Great save, Ilya!”
Chloe came down and joined us. “Geez guys, what's with all the screaming down here?”
“Uhhh, Dad's game!” Nick shouted. “Duh, Chloe!”
“Yeah—duh, Chloe!” Cam agreed.
Chloe rolled her eyes and plopped onto the couch, next to me. I could feel her gaze on me, as if she were waiting for me to glance at her before she opened up a can of worms. These past few days, I could tell she had something she wanted to talk me about … and I was certain I knew what it was, of course; she wanted to know what had happened between Shea and I. And since I really didn't want to have that conversation, I wasn't about to ask her what was on her mind.
But Chloe had reached the breaking point. I could hear her gathering the courage to talk to me.
“So, Brynn,” she began shakily. “I, uh, officially have a boyfriend now?”
“What? You do?!”
“Yeah,” she said shyly.
“Who?”
“Adam.”
“He finally asked you out? Awww, that's so cute.” I hugged her.
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, embarrassed. “I'm worried Dad is going to get super pissed, though.”
“Why?”
“He hates Adam. That one time Dad came home and Adam was over, he went psycho and tried to scare him off.”
I giggled. “He doesn't hate Adam. He's just being overprotective of his 'baby daughter.' My dad was like that with me, too. I can break the news to your dad, if you want—and I'll try to keep him calm.”
“Would you? That'd be such a huge relief …”
“Of course, Chloe.”
The twins leaped off the couch and started vibrating with excitement, arms raised in the air—they could see a play developing before it had happened yet.
“C'mon, Lance! Pass it to Dad, pass it to Dad!”
“He's open, he's open!”
I watched as Shea held his stick high in the air, calling for a pass. Lance sent a nifty cross-ice pass to the captain, and Shea stepped into the shot, hammering the puck with an intimidating boom. A crowd of players stood in front of the Tampa goalie, screening him—and the next thing the four of us saw was a little black disc snagging the back of the net.
The twins went wild, dancing around the room in celebration as their dad gave the Brawlers a 1-0 lead.
“Yeeeeeesssss!”
“He did it!”