Page 29 of Bonus Game
Too long to tell him during a family dinner where all eyes were on them.
“Good genetics,” Everett repeated, staring at the lack of space between them. “Just a thought, kids. Hockey talent runs in both your families. My father played for the Edmonton Drillers, and?—”
“Jake’s good enough to go pro,” Allen blurted out, his cheeks flushing as soon as the words left his mouth. “W-why is he only playing in a beer league?”
The room went still. The crackle of the fireplace filled the silence that followed, and Jake’s stomach dropped. Across from him, Riley’s gaze flicked up to meet his—a silent, knowing look that said,here we go.
Everett leaned back slowly, the corners of his mouth tightening around a ghost of a smile. He set his cigar in the ashtray beside him, the ember dying with a faint hiss. “He is good enough,” he said finally, his voice low and measured. “And believe me, I’d love nothing more than to see him in the NHL, carrying the Valero name to glory. But I need an heir more than I need a hockey star.”
He draped an arm along the back of the couch, the picture of composure, though his eyes stayed locked on Jake. “After watching him take a knee to the skull and spend weeks struggling to feed himself, I made a choice. I wasn’t going to lose my son to a game, no matter how talented he is, so I pulled him. Ibuilt my company from nothing, and he’s going to inherit it. Can you really blame me for that?”
No one spoke for a moment. The fire popped—the sound unnaturally loud in the sudden stillness.
Jake stared at the floor, his jaw tight, and every muscle in his body wound like a spring. He’d had this conversation countless times before, but hearing it here, in front of Allen, made bitterness rise in his chest.
Riley shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. “You didn’t pull him,” he said carefully. “You forbade him.”
Everett’s eyes snapped toward him. “I did what any father would do.”
“Not every father,” Riley muttered under his breath.
“Riley,” Olivia warned softly, though her tone lacked conviction. Her fingers toyed with her wedding ring, a nervous tell she probably didn’t even realize she had.
Jake exhaled slowly, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s fine,” he said, voice flat. “We’ve had this talk before.”
Everett regarded him for a long moment, something unreadable flickering across his expression. Pride, maybe, or guilt, before he turned his attention back to Allen. “I’m sure you understand. Family comes first.”
Allen hesitated, eyes darting between them. “I… I do,” he said quietly, though the uncertainty in his voice made it sound more like a question than an answer.
Gladys finally spoke, her dry tone cutting through the tension like a knife. “Well, that was cheerful,” she said, lifting her glass. “Merry Christmas, everyone.”
The corners of Jake’s mouth twitched despite himself, and Riley snorted into his drink. The moment shattered— awkward, yes, but at least it was over.
For now.
The rest of the visit went smoothly enough. Dinner was as exquisite as ever, the conversation was lively, and the wine flowing, but Jake barely registered any of it. His mind kept drifting, unable to stay tethered to the easy rhythm of small talk and polished family charm like always.
Allen stayed close the entire evening, brushing against him in small, deliberate ways. A hand on his arm when he laughed, a knee bumping his under the table, a gentle touch to his back as they moved through the hall. It wasn’t possessive, but comforting and grounding, like he could sense how tightly wound Jake was beneath his calm exterior, and was silently offering to hold him together.
When it was time to leave, his father stopped him at the door, and Jake told Riley to bring Allen to the car with a flick of his head and a frown.
Everett held off until the door was shut before turning on him, mirroring Jake’s frown. “The boy isn’t lacking in boldness.”
Every fibre of Jake’s being tightened, preparing for the worst—expecting his father to demand he stop seeing Allen?—
“He’s exactly what you need,” his father said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Someone who will defend you and argue on your behalf. I love you, son, but you are a gentle, quiet soul. My greatest fear is seeing you with someone who might take advantage of that. But now…I can rest easy. I greatly approve, and I hope you can follow Allen’s example and find the courage to make things official.”
Jake stood motionless, unsure if he was hearing things correctly. Never in his life had his father given him approval for anything.
“I’m not sure why you’re so surprised,” said Everett. “You knew the calibre of the man you were introducing to your family.”
Jake was taller than his father—he had been so since he was sixteen years old, but this was the first time he had ever felt like his equal.
“I do know,” said Jake. “Thank you.”
He had no idea what he was thanking his father for, but it felt like it needed to be said. Jake shoved his arms into the sleeves of his jacket and left without another word, his eyes locked onto the car in the driveway that held the two most important people in his life.
He opened the door, and a blast of heat hit his face as he got in and shut the cold out behind him. Allen and Riley were sitting in silence—Allen with his arms crossed, staring out the window, and Riley fidgeting in the backseat.
