Saved By Love (Bellevue Bullies 7)

three

Evan

I somehow make it to my room without seeing anyone. I think they’re out back. Just as I reach the room that I used to share with Owen, I get a text from my mom.

Mom: We’re out back. Come join us.

I make a face because I know the us is my mom, the newest golden child, Benny, the golden baby, Quinn, and my dad.

Pass.

Me: I’m gonna pack and then load up my car. I want to be at the house tonight since I have a meeting with the coaches for both teams tomorrow.

I had already told my mom my plans. And when I was given my assignments, I sent her the paperwork about it before I called Owen to tell him. I wait for her text, but I don’t know why. I know my mom. I’m actually an idiot for assuming she’d just say okay or even cool. Instead, within seconds, she’s in my doorway.

“I didn’t think you’d leave so quickly.”

I start to pack my bag. I haven’t unpacked any of my boxes from when I was in South Carolina playing for the IceCats. I figured if I didn’t go back to college, I’d get my own place. I actually considered moving to Canada to run away from my family’s disappointment. Mom got wind of it, and I’m pretty sure she hid my passport.

I still don’t know where it is.

“Yeah, I’ve got a meeting with the head of the Bullies’ house and Coach Moore. Then the gymnastics manager.”

She makes a face at that. I think my mom looks the same as she always has. I guess there are a few wrinkles around her eyes, but she’s still young-looking. Not old enough to have all adult children and be a grandma, that’s for sure. Her blazing green eyes are still sharp, and her wild auburn hair doesn’t have a lick of gray in it. Shelli says that’s because she stays on top of her hair coloring, but I don’t know. To me, my mom’s still the same woman who would bandage my boo-boos. Hell, she’s still bandaging my wounds.

They’re just mental boo-boos now.

“I wonder why with River Moore?” she says, and now I mirror her look.

Some say I’m the only male child who looks like my mom. I think I look like my twin Owen, and we look like my dad with the striking blue eyes and dark features. I do have my mom’s chin and nose, though. I guess it’s the mannerisms that I get from her, because sometimes I’ll make a face and even I’m reminded of my mom. “Why do you say that?”

“Well…” She pauses, that little grin playing on her lips. I know that look. It’s her general manager look. Shelli wears it proudly when she knows something no one else knows. “River is going to take over as head coach of the Assassins.”

I blink. “For real?”

“Yeah, he signed today. News hasn’t broken yet. But still, I’m confused. He’s supposed to start training camp with our boys this week, so I don’t know why he’s meeting with you when he knows this.” Well, that’s concerning. Then she adds, “Hell, they already have his replacement.”

I gawk at her. “You know everything, don’t you?”

She grins. “Sure do.”

“Who is it? Do I know him?”

Her grin grows. “You do. Jayden Sinclair.”

“I’m sorry, what? He’s the Assassins’ captain.”

She shakes her head. “He’s retiring. Along with his knee injury, he’s having severe migraine issues, too many concussions. But he doesn’t want to leave the game. So, he’s taking over for River.”

“Well, that sucks. He still has great hockey in him.”

She shrugs. “Not everyone is made for long careers, my love.”

Yup, I sure wasn’t. Not that I want to bring that into play here. “Who’s gonna be the new captain?”

She shrugs. “I think it’ll be Aiden. But then people will assume he was chosen because he’s married to Shelli. So then I suggested Boone.”

“But he’s with Posey,” I say, speaking of my other sister and her husband.

“Yeah. And then there is Wes, but he’s with Stella Brooks, Aiden’s sister. So really, people are gonna talk no matter what and completely ignore the leadership skills all three men have.”

“Yup. They always do,” I say, knowing that firsthand. With the write-ups on me, the news coverage has been fifty-fifty. Half supportive and half downright mean. I found myself reading whatever included Owen in it, and then the articles calling me a coward, a sellout, a loser—oh, and a disappointment to the Adler name.

I think I’m a glutton for punishment.

“Lots of changes,” she says, looking around the room. It holds all the medals, trophies, sticks, and pucks that Owen and I have collected over the years. Even Owen’s silver medal from the Olympics is hanging in the middle. He gave it to my mom as a thank-you and said he was gonna win the Cup for my dad.