Page 110 of Unexpected Shot
The room gets quiet. When Asher speaks like that, from theheart and with meaning in his tone, we know this is his way of working through his wife’s passing. It’s been three years since he became a widower, and while most days he seems to have it together, every once in a while he’ll say something that reminds me he’s still healing. That he’ll likely always be.
“I appreciate the advice, Asher. I really do. But there’s nothing to tell. There’s nothing to get off my chest. Yes, I love Ellie, but not in that way. She’s my best friend. And if she asks me to go taste cakes, then I’m going to go taste cakes.”
No one says anything else, even though I have a feeling we all want to yell “bullshit” through a cough.
“So, Maddox, what’s been going on since Vegas?” I ask, needing to change the subject and not wanting it to come back to me.
“Nothing much,” he says quickly. Like very quickly. Which is weird. That guy is always ready to talk. “How about you, Asher? How’s the season going?”
I don’t miss how Maddox asks about the season, steering us away from Asher’s personal life. The newest Poker Club member has learned early that asking Asher anything about a personal life earns either an immediate cuss out, or Asher just picking up and leaving.
Which, I get. The man has grieved his wife every day since she passed. He’s raising their daughter on his own—a daughter who wasn’t old enough to ever know her mother. I can’t blame the man for not wanting to date until he’s really ready.
I just hope that day comes at some point. He’s one of the good ones, and I hate to think that part of his life ended before his thirtieth birthday.
“It’s the season, nothing to report,” Asher says. “One month left of the regular season, then playoffs.”
“You guys going far this year?” I ask.
“Between us? Probably not. The injuries are starting to pile up. We have the talent, but it’s been a long year.”
I don’t come out and say it, but I have a feeling Asher isn’tthat depressed about a season not running through June. Raising a kid as a single dad has to be hard, and doing it when a nanny or his mom is helping him out more than half the time? I know it kills him. So another few months with just him and Adalyn? I know he’d rather be doing that than checking guys into boards.
“Speaking of seasons, Beau, yours is about to fire up,” Theo remarks. “How is this marriage going to work when you’re both traveling?”
“It’ll actually be easy,” I admit. “We looked at our schedules, and there are very few weeks where we’re both not playing. So we’ll only see each other a few days a week before one of us jumps on a plane. Should actually make this much easier to pass off when we barely have to see each other.”
“You won’t miss her?” Maddox asks. “I know this isn’t a real marriage or anything, but you’re not going to miss her even a little bit?”
“Miss her? Absolutely not,” I say as I put my dough in my dutch oven as it’s finally ready to bake. “I’m not going to miss her water bottles all over the house even though I never see her drink any of them. I’m not going to miss the pony tail elastics that never seem to be far away from the water bottles. When I’m on the road or home, I’ll get to watch my shows again. Though we did start watching this lawyer one and it’s pretty good.
“But I’m going to enjoy watching my shows instead of her falling asleep ten minutes into whatever we’re watching, which means I have to carry her ass to bed, or make sure she’s okay on the couch. Oh, and I’m one hundred percent not going to miss being able to take a shower without fear of the water burning off my skin. Do you know how hot she wants her water? You wouldn’t, but let me tell you: Satan would ask for an ice cube. It’s ridiculous. So yeah…no…I’m not going to miss any of that.”
My three best friends look at each other, and seem to have a silent conversation. None of them are focused on their baked goods of the night. No, they’re talking about me with their eyes, which is annoying as hell.
"What?" I ask. "Why are you all looking at me like that?"
"Who's gonna tell him?" Theo asks.
"Oh, please let it be me," Maddox practically begs before Asher gives him a shove.
"Get out of here, kid. I had a suspicion about this the whole time. Now I know I'm right. So I get dibs.”
“What the fuck are you three talking about?”
My voice echoes in the kitchen, and while I hoped it would intimidate them a little, it does the opposite. Because Asher doesn’t smile much. Sure, he does when talking about his daughter, Adalyn. Or a good game. Most of the time, a permanent scowl rests on his face. But a smile like this? It’s rare. And it’s freaking me out.
"Just fucking tell me.”
“You love Shelby.”
I bark out a laugh that echoes off of the bakery walls. "No, I do not."
"Aw, he's still in denial," Maddox says. "I find that adorable."
“For the last time, who the fuck invited you here?"
"You did. But even if he wasn't here, the two of us would be saying the same thing." Theo walks over and pats me on the shoulder. "You've been proverbially pulling that girl's pigtails since you were kids. You two have slept together. The quicker you admit that you fucking love her, the quicker you can come to terms that there isn’t shit that’s fake about this.”
