Pro hockey star, Christian Brooks, has everything he ever needed as a starting forward Right Winger, and a three year old daughter. Or, so he thought.
When Brinley Cameron's newest patient happens to be, a star hockey player, for her favorite team'...
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"Oh.. My baby." My mom says gently as she walks through my front door, cupping my cheeks in her hands. "I'm so sorry."
"I missed you." I say, slipping into her embrace.
"I missed you too sweetie." She says, squeezing me tightly and rocking back and forth for a second before she lets go.
"Alright, tell me..." Her voice drifts off as she walks into the living room area of my apartment. "Where's your couch."
"Ethan fucking stole it."
"Language." She snaps, giving me a look as I smile guiltily.
"Sorry..."
"Well, then we need to go get you a new one." She says, turning towards me.
"I know. I was hoping you'd help." I say, smiling gratefully at her.
"Of course, honey." She says, setting her bag down by the counter.
"Are you hungry?" I ask, walking over to her.
"Starving."
"Good. Me too. What do you want?" I ask, opening my fridge to find it empty. "You have got to be kidding me.", I'm getting pissed, "He cheated on me, and stole my shit?! What the fuck is wrong with him?!" I ask myself, opening my freezer to find it also empty.
"Brinley! Language."
"Mama, I don't care. I'm pissed, he stole my stuff."
"Its fine... we'll just go steal it back." My mom says, an ornery grin on her face.
"Mama!"
"What? I've dealt with my fair share of petty little boys." She says and I laugh.
She's not wrong, I've heard some stories. My mama was quite the man-eater. She was beautiful too- I mean, she still is- but, you know what I mean.
"I think he's staying with Vivi right now."
"Vivi? Whose living in a dorm? That Vivi?" She asks, an eyebrow raised.
"That's the one."
"So a grown man, is staying in a dorm room. Funny." She snorts. "Speaking of Vivi.. We're going to dinner with her tonight."
"What?!", I shriek, "You can't just spring that one me! I'm not going." I cross my arms like a toddler.
"Yes you are. And don't talk to me that way, your father and I raised you better." She scolds.
"Sorry.. Mama, please don't make me go." I plead. I'd get on my knees if I had to.
"Your father and uncle want me to try to talk some sense into her. You don't even have to talk to her just.. Maybe hear her out." She says, reaching her hand across the counter to grab ahold of mine.
