should’ve been looking forward to drinks with his teammates or anticipating tomorrow’s game or getting an evening workout in or studying tape. Not spending time with his boyfriend and his son.
But he didn’t want to be anywhere else. He liked how Dakota made him slow down, take things one step at a time. If it wasn’t for him talking Tay down last night, he would’ve been on campus right after morning skate today, talking to the paramedicine program coordinator about dropping out of the rest of the semester and getting a refund for the classes he’d already signed up for this summer.
As it was, he might as well finish the semester; there were only a few weeks left. Didn’t matter how much the practicals made him break out in a cold sweat just thinking about them, quitting now wouldn’t make sense.
He was definitely getting a refund on his summer classes, though. Dakota was right—nothing said he had to graduate in four years. In fact, he’d looked it up today—he had seven years from the day he’d started to complete the four-year program. Simply knowing that he was hitting pause until he worked out whether or not this was what he really wanted took a huge weight off his shoulders.
His gloves were soaked through by the time they finished their second snowman, and the sun had slipped below the horizon, casting shadows along the quiet street. Snow still fell gently, and the sounds of laughing children and shovels hitting pavement reached them from farther down the road.
How long did it take to order dinner? They were going to be done by the time Dakota came back out.
“Andy?”
The foreign voice had him glancing at a woman standing next to a car parked at the curb. Snow fell onto wavy, chin-length hair almost as dark as Andy’s, and she wore a candy-apple-red wool coat over dress pants and heeled boots that were massively impractical for this weather.
Just come from the office?
Andy latched on to Tay’s leg. “Mommy?”
Mommy? As in Dakota’s ex?
Her gaze settled on Tay and narrowed. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” he shot back, concerned about the death grip Andy had on his leg. He settled an arm around Andy’s shoulders.
“That’s my mom,” Andy said, but he didn’t go greet her.
She shoved her bare hands into her pockets, glancing at the front door. “Where’s you dad, kiddo?”
For reasons Tay couldn’t name, he didn’t want her in the house. And he certainly didn’t want her going in without giving Dakota a heads-up. “Why don’t you go get your dad, little man?”
Andy ran across the lawn, squeezed between a couple of knee-high bushes lining the walkway, shot up the stairs, and burst into the house at full speed in typical Andy fashion.
Tay removed a glove and held out a hand. “I’m Tay.”
“Fiona.”
With nothing else to say, they stood awkwardly in the snow and waited for Dakota.
Dakota had ordered dinner, fished a couple of carrots out of the fridge, and was hunting down his box of wayward buttons in the den when Andy threw the door open. It smacked against the wall as Andy ran into the house without removing his boots, trailing water and snow across the floorboards all the way to the kitchen.
“Hey.” Dakota poked his head out of the den. “What’s the rule about shoes in the house?”
Andy reversed course, heading for him instead, his little brow scrunched, eyes as big as his face.
Dropping the carrots on the desk, Dakota held his arms out and caught Andy as he launched himself at him. “What’s wrong, buddy?”
“Mommy’s here,” Andy said, nose buried in Dakota’s neck.
“What? Where?”
“Outside.” Wiggling down, Andy stood at the front door and pointed. “See?”
Sure enough, Fiona stood on the sidewalk, shoulders hunched up to her ears against the cold. Tay was several feet away next to a couple of lopsided snowmen. They both turned to him, Tay with a concerned blink at Andy, Fiona with her brows lowered.
“Fi.”
She came up the walkway. “Can we talk?”
“Hey, Andy,” Tay said. “Want to bring the carrots and we can finish the snowmen?”
Dakota shot him a strained smile in thanks over Andy’s head.
Once the door was closed behind Andy, he crossed his arms and leaned against the closet door. “What are you doing here, Fiona? You’re supposed to call first.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” She sat on the bench and removed her fancy leather boots. “It was a last-minute thing. I took a detour on my way home.”
She lived in Hamilton, a good two-hour drive