“Nope.”

  My reaction would’ve stopped a normal person from continuing with the conversation, but my sister was relentless. “What’s going on with you guys?”

  I flicked through a few channels before I answered. “Nothing,”

  “Is that nothing why you haven’t been yourself for the past few days? Or, why you played like shit at the last game?”

  “Hey.” I sat up and looked at her. “It wasn’t our worst game ever.”

  Jessie rolled her eyes. “I suppose that’s true. I’ve seen you guys shit the bed worse than that before. But don’t deke the question, mister. What happened with that girl?”

  I shut my eyes and tried to figure out how much of the story to tell my sister. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Jessie released the footrest of the recliner and came over to sit beside me. “That’s why you should. You know that not talking about Mom and Dad was bad for both of us. We had to learn the hard way that bottling up feelings is not good for the Moss kids.”

  She had a point.

  “And I saw you two together. When she talked about you Dylan, that woman lit up.”

  I saw it too, but now I knew better – she wasn’t radiant because of our relationship, she was glowing because she was pregnant. “She did something I can’t forgive.”

  Jessie breathed in sharply. “She cheated on you?”

  “Well, no.” Technically she hadn’t – that I knew of.

  “Then what could she have done that you can’t forgive?” Jessie tucked one foot up underneath her and kept her gaze trained on me. There was no point in lying to her – she could tell if I was hiding something – the same way I could tell if she was doing it to me.

  Deep breaths were going to get me through the conversation, and I took a very drawn-out inhale and exhale. “She wanted to have this ‘secret’ relationship.” I used air quotes around secret. “But it was because she was embarrassed by me.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. She was all over you after the game – in front of the entire town.” Jessie’s brow was furrowed.

  “Yeah, well. We decided that we weren’t going to be a ‘secret’ anymore. Then, I asked her dad for permission to date her, and he told me to stay away from her.”

  “Ouch,” Jessie grimaced.

  “Oh,” I laughed. “That’s not the worst part. I’m only getting started.”

  Jessie crossed her arms and waited for me to continue.

  “Her mom offered me fifty grand to walk away.”

  Jessie’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head. “Fifty thousand dollars? First of all, what is this, the 1960s? Secondly, what a bunch of cheapos! A family like that should’ve offered you five hundred thousand dollars.” She slapped my knee. I knew that she was trying to be funny to diffuse the situation, but it wasn’t helping.

  “I didn’t take it. And I wouldn’t have taken five hundred thousand dollars either.”

  “You really love her, don’t you,” Jessie’s voice was quiet, and her eyes searched mine.

  “I do.” I looked away. “I did.”

  Jessie rubbed her hand on her jeans. “So what? She was hiding you from her parents. It sounds like she was getting ready to break it to them. Nobody gets photographed in public the way she did if they’re trying to hide something from Mommy and Daddy. If you love her, Dylan. You should fight for her.”

  My teeth were gritted together so hard my jawbone was twitching. “She’s pregnant, Jess.”

  “Oh, my God.” Jessie’s hand went to her mouth. “I knew it.” Her eyes went wide. “I just had this feeling at the game—”

  “It’s not mine,” I interrupted.

  Her mouth clamped shut and her eyes went even wider. “What?” her expression of disbelief didn’t change.

  “Yeah. Does it make sense to you now?”

  “Wow.” Jessie leaned into the threadbare sofa. “I didn’t see that last twist.” She tapped her finger on her knee. “It doesn’t make sense. Something isn’t right.”

  “I know,” I muttered.

  “How do you know it’s not yours?”

  “She told me.”

  Jess sighed. “I’m sorry, Dylan. This is just so weird.”

  We both looked at the TV, and while I could see that it was an old episode of The Simpsons, all I could think about was the fact that none of this made sense.

  “Before you two rekindled your relationship—”

  “It was never a relationship before,” I clarified.

  “Sorry. When was the last time you two were together before this time?”

  Itchy and Scratchy were pounding each other with sledgehammers in the background as I thought back to the night in the spring. I had been delivering boats after the ice had gone from the lake. “It was in May.”

  Jessie nodded. She was thinking the same thing I was. There was a chance this baby could be mine. But there was a chance that it wasn’t – and the mother had told me as much.

  We sat in silence and watched two more episodes of the cartoon we’d grown up on – laughing at jokes we’d already seen.

  “Thanks for coming over, Jess,” I stretched my arms over my head. “I needed a quiet night and some laughs.”

  “Me too.” Jessie got up and put on her shoes. “I’m so tired of all this wedding planning. Oh…”

  “I guess I don’t have a date now.” I shrugged. “But I’m not taking your friend,” I added quickly.

  Jessie laughed. “She’s already got a new date and he’s perfect for her. They make hummus together.”

  I followed Jessie to the door and the lights from her ginormous SUV flashed in the kitchen window as she unlocked it from her remote starter.

  Jessie leaned on the doorframe. “Kane said that the scouts were writing stuff down after you scored.”

  “Really?” My heart started to thump against my ribcage. “And you waited two hours to tell me this?”

  “You had to get that heartache stuff out of the way to make some room for excitement.”

  “Are you serious, Jess?” I asked, not wanting to get my hopes up.

  “You know I wouldn’t make up something like that.”

  I grabbed my sister and picked her up and squeezed her. “Can you imagine…” I didn’t want to finish the sentence.

  “I can.” She smiled. “And I have. Since you were a kid. Dyl. You’re a natural – and lately, you’ve combined that talent with a little bit of drive – and people are noticing.

  I didn’t tell Jessie that the reason I started trying harder was to impress Bronwyn. But now, I was doing it for myself and it felt good.

  Jessie walked down the concrete steps but turned when she reached the bottom.

  “Dyl.”

  “Yeah.” I had my hand on the light switch for the porch, waiting for her to get safely to her car.

  “Do you love her?”

  I didn’t have to think about it. The answer was yes – but that yes had been covered in a layer of anger.

  “I always have, and I always will.”

  Jessie walked back up the stairs and gave me a hug. “If you love her and she loves you – does it matter who the father is?”

  I stepped back from the hug and looked at my sister like she’d grown a second head. “Drive safely, Jess.”

  She pursed her lips, nodded, and then strode to her car.

  I couldn’t believe that she thought I could entertain the idea of raising another man’s child.

  It was absurd. Until I thoroughly thought about it.

  Floyd was like a father to me. Hell, Andy had been like a father to Jess.

  It wasn’t an absolute yes, but I went to bed with two very important things on my mind, hockey and Bronwyn.

  Twenty-Six

  Bronwyn

  Even at breakfast time, the formal dining room was set with linen tablecloths. I was met with the smell of crepes wafting in the breeze when I reached the main house. All the staff was at the estate and Manny, the old butler, opened the door for me.

  “Your grandmother is in the sitting room on the veranda, Miss.” Manny spoke in a deep, kind voice and bowed his head as I entered.

  “Thank you, Manny.” I smiled and steeled myself for the first meeting I’d had with the matriarch in months.

  I walked through the great room to the formal veranda where my mom and dad were sitting with my grandmother.

  “Bronwyn.” My grandmother, Eloise stood and motioned for me to come to her. She was a strong, but thin woman, and she squeezed me tightly. Her lavender perfume transported me back to a time when I was young. She’d been wearing the same fragrance her entire life. “It’s so nice to see you, sweetheart.”

  “Nice to see you too, Grandmother.”

  She smiled and held onto my arms. “You look good.”

  “Thank you.” I was surprised. My mother told me that Grandmother, her mother-in-law wanted to disown me. The warmth Eloise was exuding didn’t scream disowning. “You do too.”

  She grinned. “I still haven’t gone under the knife.” She cut her eyes at my mother and the dig wasn’t lost on me.

  “Shall we have breakfast?” My mom walked past the two of us and into the formal dining room.

  Grandma Eloise winked at me. “I like to push her buttons.”

  I smiled and tried to hold in a laugh. “Don’t you be doing any of that stuff to your beautiful face.” She grabbed my chin and turned my head from side to side – you’re perfect, just perfect.

  “Mother.” Dad finished his coffee. “That’s enough.”

  Grandmother Eloise waved him off and her silk culottes billowed in the breeze as she walked away. My dad leaned in toward me and whispered, “I think that she’s starting to lose it.”

  If this is what losing it looked like, I was on board. My grandmother was typically all business and very reserved. This warmth was new and it was a little unnerving but also nice. It was as though she’d read a book about what grandparents are supposed to be like and was applying her knowledge to her only grandchild.

  Before I could follow my grandmother into the dining room, my dad grabbed my arm. “I need to talk to you.” His voice was low and serious.

  “About what?” I whispered and glanced around to see what staff might be nearby.

  “I met your little boyfriend.”

  “What?” My heart started to race. “What are you talking about?”

  “It doesn’t matter. You just need to know that he won’t be bothering you again. You need to stay away from that boy.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” The flash of anger in Dylan’s eyes was an image that I wasn’t going to soon forget.

  “Good.” Dad dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Glad that’s all cleared up.” He held open the door from the veranda for me. Before I walked through it, a terrible realization dawned on me.

  “Did you tell him I was pregnant?”

  “No.” I believed him. My Dad wouldn’t lie to me.

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “Your mother did.”

  That bitch. “Why the hell did she do that?” I already knew the answer. She was a master manipulator. Of course, she left out the part where Dylan was the father. She knew how to put enough doubt into someone’s mind by leaving out key parts to a story.

  “She’s just looking out for you, Bron.”

  I crossed my arms across my chest. “We agreed we weren’t going to tell him. You told me I couldn’t tell him.”

  “Lower your voice,” my dad hissed.

  My face felt like it was on fire and my hands were shaking. “I have to tell him the truth. Something I should have done from the beginning.” I tried to walk into the cottage, but my dad shut the door.

  “You should know that your mother offered him fifty thousand dollars to walk away. And he took it.”

  I felt like the floor was starting to tilt.

  “Bron.” I could hear my dad’s voice. “Help. Someone. Help,” He shouted as I dropped to one knee. The world around me blurred and I felt the hands of someone catch me under my arms before the world faded to black.

  Twenty-Seven

  Dylan

  The sound of an alarm clock always made me feel a rage, so I had been waking up to the local radio station for the past few years. As I blinked my eyes open, the announcer was giving a play-by-play of the events of last night’s game.

  I wanted to go back to sleep, back to the dream I had been having, but the commentary was too good.

  “And Moss scored the goal of the decade. Did you see that fake shot before the tip-in?” the announcer asked his cohost, who wholeheartedly agreed that the goal was magical. Then they took a break from yammering to play some music.

  My arms and legs were tired from playing such an aggressive game and I stumbled to shower to let the hot water beat over my tight shoulders. In my dream, Bronwyn and I had been swimming in the lake. She had pulled me to her, and I could feel her feet bumping against mine as we trod water while making out. I had pulled her bikini string and her pink nipples, hard and puckered were bumping against my chest, luminous in the moonlight.

  Just the memory of the dream was getting me hard. Even though we weren’t together, even though she had hurt me, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about fucking her. I stroked my cock while I imagined slipping inside her warmth while we were in the lake. It was pretty much an impossible feat in real life, but in my dream and in the shower, my cock didn’t know the difference.

  As I cleaned up in the shower and let the hot water pelt off my face, I heard my cell phone ringing. It was early – and an early call usually wasn’t a good thing. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist.

  It was Coach and I was so glad I accepted the call. It was the best early morning phone call I had ever received. The scouts. They wanted to set up a meeting with me.

  I got off the phone and braced myself against the bathroom vanity. It wasn’t a sure thing, but Coach was optimistic that I’d get invited to the training camp. I held up my hands, they were trembling. I picked up my phone and then set it down – the person I wanted to call with the news wasn’t Leo, or Jessie, or Floyd.

  It was Bronwyn.

  A good night’s sleep usually offered me clarity. When I went to bed confused about something, it was like I sorted it out in my sleep. And when I left the house for work, my stomach was clenched into knots. Not the bad kind. I was so excited I couldn’t eat.

  I was going to play in the National League – and I was going to get Bronwyn and take her with me.

  Twenty-Eight

  Bronwyn

  A loud boat droned by as I woke up. I was in my bed and by the angle of the sun shining in the window, it was late.

  Lisa was sitting on the round chair in the corner. “Miss Bronwyn.” She rushed to the bed. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “How did I get here?” I smoothed my hands on the sheets. “The last thing I remember…” I racked my brain. It was the conversation with my father. “I can be bought for fifty thousand dollars.”

  Lisa pressed the back of her hand to my forehead. “You fainted.”

  “I’m fine.” I pulled the sheets back and got out of bed. “What time is it?” I asked.

  “It’s almost five.”

  “P.M.? I slept all day?”

  Lisa nodded. “The doctor was called in. He said that you just needed some rest, so we let you rest – but if you’ve got a fever, we have to call him back.”

  “I don’t have a fever.” I was pretty sure the redness in my face was due to the memory of the terrible conversation with my father. My mother had betrayed me, and the man I loved, well, he really was after money after all.

  Lisa opened the doors to the walk-in closet. “Your grandmother is having the Hutchinsons over for dinner. She’s asked that you come for cocktail hour at the boathouse.”

  I had just fainted and spent the day in bed – now they expected me to put on a pretty dress and smile for some of their business partners. I realized that this was going to be my job. Being a Yates, smiling, and networking. If I was going to continue with the family business, I would have to start acting like them. “How about the pink floral – the wrap-around?”

  “Your mom requested something billowy.” Lisa mused as she flipped through the hangers in the dress section of my closet.

  “Of course, she did.” I shook my head and reached over Lisa to pull out a form-fitting red dress.

  “Are you sure?” Lisa eyed the dress.

  My mom was going to hate it. “I’m sure. Plug in my flatiron please,” I shouted as I pulled the dress over my head.

  Waiters with bowties offered canapes and glasses of sparkling wine for the small gathering. My lipstick matched my dress and I felt like a model again as I strutted down the pathway to the cocktail hour gathering. After making small talk with the Hutchinsons – a lovely older couple with nineteen grandchildren, we made our way to the dining room. My grandmother still used place cards for sittings, and the table was set as though we were having royalty for dinner, full European settings with the finest china at the estate.

  A classical guitarist strummed quietly in the corner as the first course was served. The Hutchinsons were also in petroleum but were old school enough to never talk about business at the dinner table. It was all talk about the club, the condition of the course, and their boats.

  I wasn’t paying much attention until the boat being built at the Lake Casper Marina boat was brought up.

  “I almost bought it,” my dad said.

  “It’s a beauty,” Mr. Hutchinson said. “If you don’t buy it, I might. Although, it’s a new builder. I’m not too sure about his reputation.”

  If my mom could’ve raised her eyebrows at my dad, she would have. “I’ve heard he doesn’t have the greatest reputation.” She sipped her wine and glared at me.