Whatever. Hockey was my life. At my age, I was practically ancient , but I was also the best damn goalie in the league. I still had one season left, maybe two.
"That's commendable," Tate said. "But I think it would suck for you. Especially since they didn’t want you dressed and there with the team while you’re recovering."
Groaning, I looked at Gran as she frowned and tsked.
"You boys are a bunch of misbehaving misfits today."
"Aren't we always?" I wondered out loud.
Gran tsked again. “Some days, you’re better than others, and I tell myself what a fine job I’ve done raising you. Other days, like today, I think I’m just fooling myself.”
She spent a lot of time with us as kids—almost as much as my parents. We owed our somewhat good manners to her. Dad swore every chance he got even now.
Travis came next to me, patting my good shoulder. "You know what? I’ll come with you to the game. I'm so attractive that everyone else will pay attention to me instead of you."
I burst out laughing. That was a very Travis thing to say. He didn't take anything seriously, except perhaps his startup. But since he sold it just a month ago, he had a lot of time on his hands and had no clue what to do with it.
My brother’s fiancé, Lexi, walked into the kitchen. She’d been in the backyard with my niece. It only took her a minute before she asked me, "Let me guess, everyone's on your case?"
"One of the things I love most about you, future sister-in-law, is that you can read our family so well."
"How did they figure it out about Kendra already? Did Tate spill the beans?"
I groaned. She and Tate drove me to my meeting with Kendra the other day because I didn’t want to bother with another Uber, but they only stayed for a couple minutes.
Tate laughed. "No, sweetheart. You just did.”
“Wait, what? Who's Kendra?" Reese asked.
Declan and Travis looked at me with interest.
"The coordinator of the organization that management signed me up with,” I explained. “I just met her, and I have no idea what Lexi is going on about."
"Right. You looked at her like you were smitten," Lexi informed everyone.
"She’s hot. I just had an appropriate reaction to a very sexy woman," I said with a lazy smile.
Declan frowned. "You know you’ve got to focus on your recovery, right?"
“Yes I do. Fucking chill, Declan.”
I wasn’t interested in dating. Just before the fight, I had started seeing Blair, and we hit it off well. After the team announced they were benching me for the foreseeable future, she couldn't bolt fast enough. I wasn't interesting once I wasn't the team's goalie anymore. Ever since, I’d been on a self-imposed hiatus from dating. I had much more important things to focus on. Getting back on the ice was crucial.
“Young man!” Gran exclaimed. “Your brothers and Reese just want the best for you.”
"You know what? I’m going to check on my niece while you all decide among yourselves what the best is," I said, making Tate laugh.
This was typical of my family, but as I said before, I didn't mind. I liked knowing they had my back. We always enjoyed helping each other out when possible, and when it wasn't possible, we were there for moral support. I was pretty sure their rallying around me like this was setting a new record in my family, though. I was proud of us. Mom and Dad raised us to stick together, and we were doing just that.
They were right, however. Attending the game wouldn’t be easy, but I wanted to be there. Hockey was my life. It wasn’t all about making money. It had never been about that. We grew up with all the comforts money could buy. Grandma and Grandpa founded the Maxwell Bookstores chain in their youth. My parents and my uncle ran it with Grandma after Grandpa passed away. They sold it for a shit-ton when I was still in school, and they set up trust funds for each of us. I never touched mine. I didn’t need it—it was all about hockey for me, and fortunately the sport paid very well.
In fact, none of us lived off our trust funds. Luke was a sought-after architect, and Tate had built an immensely successful wine business. I’d gotten the hockey bug early on, and Mom and Dad supported me through it all.
When I was drafted, most of my teammates thought the Chicago Blades just took me on because of my last name. I’d worked hard to prove I deserved my spot. I never even had to play on the Blades’ farm team either, and that was because they needed a goalie on the roster ASAP. I made my family proud when I was positioned as first pick, the player all the sportscasters thought would deliver the goods. And I did.
I headed out the back door that led to the yard. My brother’s enormous house was in the Lincoln Park neighborhood—a quiet area with larger homes and nice spacious yards. I lived in a condo in the West Loop. I liked feeling the pulse of the city: sirens, the hustle and bustle and all that goes with it.
My niece, Paisley, was in the swing I’d tied up last week from the sturdy oak tree at the side of the property.
“Having fun?” I asked her as she swung back and forth.
“Yes, Uncle Tyler. Thank you so much for building this for me.”
“You’re welcome.”
She’d hinted that she wanted one and even showed me a few pictures on an app, so I surprised her with it on her birthday. Paisley had Mom’s green eyes and the trademark Maxwell dark brown hair. She didn’t look anything like Tate’s ex-wife.
“Can you push me? I want to go really high.”
I weighed the risks, but I was right here, ready to catch her if she lost her balance. Thanks to my years on the ice, I had quick reflexes.
“Sure thing.” I planted my feet wide apart, pushing the swing with one hand and keeping my eyes trained on Paisley.
She laughed, shrieking every time she went higher. A few minutes later, her enthusiasm lessened.
“I’m getting a bit queasy,” she piped up, and I didn’t push her again.
“Don’t move your legs anymore, and it’ll slow down. If I stop it abruptly, you’ll be sick for sure.”
“Okay, Uncle Tyler.”
It took a few more minutes for the swing to slow down, and then finally Paisley put one foot down, leaning her head on the rope she was holding.
Her grin was huge. “This is fun. What are you doing out here?”
“What do you mean? Can’t I spend time with my niece?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Well, yeah... but you look like you’re running away from something. Are they teasing you? If you don’t tell me, I’ll just ask them.”
I stared at her. She was ten years old. How did she already show signs of the Maxwell teasing genes?
“Fine, they’re on my case about something.”
She laughed, clapping her hands. “Ha! I knew it. And are they right about it? Wait, don’t tell me. I want to figure it out by myself.”
“Why?”
“How else will I hone my skills?”
I laughed, unconsciously massaging my injured shoulder. I liked giving Declan shit, but he was right. I needed to focus on my recovery—both in the physical sense and my reputation. And yet I couldn’t take my mind off Kendra. She was sexy as hell, yes, but something else made me straighten up and pay attention. Her honesty and sense of humor were refreshing. Was she always that fun and unassuming?