Page 2 of He Has Trouble (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
Chapter 2
“How many beers have you had, Tim?” she said.
“Why? You keeping count now?” I heard the belligerence in Tim Cheskowitz’s voice. Frozen to the spot, my hands fisted and I swore under my breath.
“I’m going back inside. You can drink by yourself.” Here voice sparked. My heart thudded, listening hard.
“Don’t go away mad, Angela. This is Christmas. A guy’s entitled to a few cocktails. Besides, I want to talk to you.”
I heard some shuffling on the deck, but no door opening and closing. Part of me wanted Angela to escape Tim’s obnoxious company. The selfish part of me wanted her to stay and throw him off the deck. When her mother told me she’d started dating Tim I couldn’t believe she’d ever put up with his shit. The asshole had never been good enough for her.
What I heard next made me sick.
“I wanted to wait until tomorrow, Angela, but I may as well ask you now. I—that is—will you marry me?”
I held my breath, horrified at what I was hearing, sick that this nothing shit was in a position to ask Angela to marry him. It occurred to me that I should give them privacy, that would be the right thing to do. But there was no way in hell I wasn’t going to stay to hear Angela’s answer.
“Tim . . . I don’t know what to say. I thought we agreed—”
“We agreed that we couldn’t go on the same way we were. So I’m getting serious. I’m willing to commit. That’s what women want from men, isn’t it?”
Silence. Cold swept over me and I forced my fist open. Maybe I didn’t want to know her answer after all, couldn’t take hearing it, couldn’t stand listening for another second. But that didn’t mean I was leaving this shit with her. I didn’t give a fuck about giving him privacy or politeness. My legs moved me forward, leaving my head behind to think things through while the rest of me took action.
“No, Tim. It’s not what every woman wants. I don’t want a commitment from you. I want to wait for . . . the right man. For someone who will think of me as special enough to gladly marry me, to love me.”
“I do love you, Angela. You know that.”
I didn’t stop moving forward while I listened, my churning gut motivating me to stop the debacle. Determined to be there to pick up the pieces of this train wreck, whichever way it went.
“Idon’tknow that, Tim. More importantly . . . I don’t love you.” Her voice had gentled, her words easing my pain even if they were meant for Tim.
The couple came into view when I got to the bottom of the few short steps up to the deck. Just as Tim reached out to take her arm, she pulled away from him. Then her eyes locked with mine.
“Hello, Angela.”
Tim spun around. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Hello, Brady.” Her smile spoke volumes, congratulating me on having the worst-best timing in the world.
“Get lost, Mack. We’re having a private discussion here.”
“Sounds like the discussion is over to me.”
Angela heaved a sigh. “He’s right, Tim.”
Tim looked back and forth between me and Angela and his face took on a mean, snarly look, not far off his usual bad act. But I was used to professional snarlers, hell, I was a pro at snarling myself. So his anger meant nothing to me.
“Oh, I get it,” he said. “You had this planned all along, didn’t you? You knew Brady was coming back and you figured it was time to throw me aside?” He snapped an accusing glare at Angela.
“No—”
“No one knew I was coming back,” I said as I climbed the steps to the deck. “Except my dad. And I don’t think he mentioned it to anyone.”
Tim smirked. Everyone knew my father had become a reclusive, ornery drunk. I owned it. No sense trying to pretend otherwise. If I hadn’t paid a housekeeper on the regular to look in on him a few days a week, I wasn’t sure my old man would still be alive. I knew the Rizzo’s looked after him too. Knew they knew about his drinking from way back.
“You’re a piece of work, you know?” Tim said and stood his ground. I took the spot at Angela’s side, not close enough to touch her, but close enough to make my heart race. Tim continued, “Thinking you can come back here and pick up where you left off—coming back with your tail between your legs because you’ve been suspended. A troublemaker as always.”
“That’s enough from you, Tim. You can leave now.” Angela used the magic tone of voice that some women could employ to make men break. She must have learned it from her mother.
