Kaleb

Halfway through the party, the doorbell rings. Excusing myself from a conversation with a teammate, I set my drink down on the counter and saunter to the front door. I have to wind through several people.

Tonight, the house is packed and ridden with laughter, kids screaming, and people talking. Every once in a while, a ringtone will go off, throwing a bit of music into the mix. While the party's been great, I'm tiring of hearing people congratulate me and Mel. Yes, that's the point of this party, but showing up is a good enough way to express yourself.

At the front door, I adjust my dress shirt. It's wrinkled and stained with a few drops of red wine. Someone ran into me while I was heading for the bathroom earlier. Didn't see a point in changing my shirt because it's bound to happen again. Most of my teammates and some of their partners are drunk.

I'm a little buzzed, but not to where I'm stumbling or acting like an idiot. Tonight, I've behaved myself. This party is for Mel and I. Making a fool of myself in my house would ruin that because I'm a stupid drunk.

Opening the door, I welcome the cool blast of November air. It soothes my flushed skin and relieved the prominent scent of vanilla candles, alcohol, food, and mixed colognes and perfumes.

When I see who's standing on the other side of the door, I have to blink several times. At first, I'm convinced I'm drunk. That alcohol is causing me to hallucinate. Then I force myself back into reality.

This is real because Mel would pull a surprise like this

Behind the door are Jayden Miller and Hunter Tucker.

I cover my mouth with one hand, trying to keep a handle on my composure. It doesn't work. Emotions overwhelm me. "Holy fuck!"

With no consciousness of my surroundings, I lurch forward and pull both of them into an aggressive hug. We stumble a bit, but manage not to take a tumble while we're laughing and exchanging hellos. Any awareness of the party occurring

"Holy fuck," I repeat. Taking a step back, I clap both guys on the shoulder. "You guys are here! Did Mel arrange this?"

Hunter adjusts the case of beer under his arm. There's a goofy grin on his face. It makes the professional-looking attire (suit and polished shoes) look strange. Then again, he's always been like this—too casual for fancy clothes. Whenever I see him, he's wearing chef's attire or jeans and a fitted T-shirt. "She did. We're later than we expected because Jayden had to finish one of his map projects. It was due tomorrow."

Jayden rolls his eyes. "Just like Tucker here had to complain about the restaurant we stopped at because of his expertise in the food profession."

Hunter wrinkles his nose. "I did not. And it's a culinary profession."

Jayden doesn't break the gaze he's holding with me. He raises his eyebrows. "Just like mapping is referred to as cartography."

My grin feels stupid. "Now, now, boys." I step aside, gesturing for them to enter the house. "Let's play nice. This is an engagement party."

After they've entered the house, I close the door. They take a moment to admire the house while removing their shoes.

Jayden snaps his fingers. "Right! Congrats, man." From the pocket of his jean jacket, he withdraws a cream-coloured envelope. "This is from us. Hunter and I chipped in. Spoiler alert: it's not a trip to the tropics, but we think you'll enjoy it whenever you visit Montréal. Or if you need a wedding cake."

With a grunt, Hunter holds up the case of beer. "This is for you, too." He looks down at it. "But judging by the atmosphere, I'm sure the four of us will finish it tonight. And yes, Jayden will end up in the bathtub again." He pauses, avoiding an elbow to the ribs from Jayden. Still grinning, Hunter continues with, "Where's Smith? This pack of beer isn't meant for three people."

I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. "In the living room, I think. Brenna and Shea have been acting strange tonight. It's concerning." While they mull over the words, I work on opening the envelope.

Hunter lowers his voice, which is laced with concern. "Damn. Is the pregnancy okay?"

"As far as I know, yes," I reply. "But... I don't know. Shea's acting all territorial and Brenna's been quiet."

From the envelope, I remove a gift card with a substantial credit. It's from Mel and I's favourite bakery back in Montréal. The same bakery that did Brenna and Shea's wedding cake.

For a moment, emotion hits me hard. Seeing this gift card, one we can put towards our wedding cake, makes everything shift in perspective. I've been stuck in a bottomless pit of love and excitement that I failed to realize just how serious this is. Mel and I are getting married. We'll be united for eternity after this; ready to see where our lives, now threaded together, take us.

"You guys," I say, fighting back the tears. "This is... Thank you. We love it."

Hunter claps me on the shoulder. "Speaking for Melody. Better watch it, KJ. Don't turn into a possessive asshole like Shea."

I snort. "Your jokes are bold, Hunter. Shea might kick your ass if he hears them." Tucking the gift card in my pocket, I take the case of beer from him. "Come on, let's get you guys settled. I'm assuming you're spending the night, too?"

"Melody said that was the plan."

They follow me into the kitchen, where I, by some miracle, fit the case of beer into the overloaded fridge. I hand each of them a can, then grab one for myself and Shea. The whisky on ice I left sitting somewhere can wait. Right now, we need to find Shea and toast to this reunion. Brenna will be included, but she can't drink alcohol. She'll have to work with the mocktail she's been nursing all night.

"We should find Shea now," I say.

Jayden nods, taking the beer from me. He cracks it open and takes a long sip. He pauses before taking another sip. "Don't give me that look, KJ. It was a long ride. I'm not ruining the toast you want to have."

Goddamn. Am I that predictable?

I decide I don't care—about being predictable or that Jayden's drinking without us. All that matters is they're here. When I find Melody, she's in for a world of... well, I have plans for her tonight. I'm going to worship her body in every way I can. This is the best surprise I could've asked for.

Throwing my arms around Jayden's and Hunter's shoulders, I say, "Fuck you two, by the way. I invited you and you lied. Both of you said you couldn't make it."

"Quit complaining," Jayden laughs. "Melody wanted it to be a surprise. Speaking of Melody, where is she? We need to give her our condolences."

"Condolences?" I frown. "We're getting married."

"Exactly," Jayden replies.

A fraction of a second passes before Hunter and Jayden are killing themselves laughing. I stand between them, rolling my eyes. I should've known better. We haven't seen each other since the summer. It's almost been four months. Four months of pent-up banter that needs to be released. Can't blame the guys for diving in already, without Shea present. This is a warning. Before the night ends, the banter will become relentless.

I can't wait to tell Brenna and Shea that Jayden and Hunter are here. And Ella. Ella hung out a lot with us, too. It's like a high school reunion, but only with people I actually care about.

"Fine," I sigh. "I'll admit, I walked into that one."

Hunter ruffles my hair. "Damn right you did!"

Swatting Hunter's hand away, I fight off a smile. But I fail. It's good to see my friends again.

I'm still chuckling when I see Mel enter the kitchen. She's carrying an empty plate of jalapeño poppers. When she sees us, her face lights up with happiness. She leaves the dirty dish in the sink, and then joins us, her dress flowing behind her. The gold pendant hanging around her neck sparkles. 

"Jayden! Hunter!" Mel exclaims. She gives each of them a typical Mel hug. While she's shorter than the three of us, her hugs are fierce.

"Good to see you, Melody," Jayden smiles.

"Yeah, thanks for the invite," Hunter says. He gives Mel's hand a squeeze while exchanging a glance with me. He has a shit-eating grin on his face. "I forgot how much I enjoyed roasting KJ."

Mel's smile broadens. "I'm glad you guys made it! And, please, don't go easy on him. His ego needs to be knocked down a few notches. Anyway, Shea and Brenna are in the dining room, enjoying some appetizers." Her eyes search the area around their feet, and then flick to the front door. "No bags?"

"They're in the car still," Jayden says. "But don't worry about them. We'll bring them in when the party settles down. No need to haul baggage in while it's at its peak. That would look strange." He looks at Hunter. "Come on, let's go surprise Brenna and Shea."

"And Ella," I add. "She's here somewhere."

With their beers in hand, Hunter and Jayden leave the kitchen. Although our kitchen-living-room-area is open concept, the dining room is separate. Once they're around the corner, I pull Melody into a hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Someone's sneaky," I murmur.

She giggles, shifting to her tiptoes so she can wrap her arms around my shoulders. Her perfume overwhelms the mingling scents, making my head spin. And I can't help but take comfort in the warmth of her body. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"They got us a present." From my pocket, I remove the envelope and pull the gift card out. It's a laborious process because my arms are still wrapped around Mel, but I manage. Clearing my throat, I read out the information.

Mel pulls away, her hands resting on my shoulder. Her mouth forms a cute 'o.' "No way! Kal, that's a lot of money. They don't need to give us that much! We have enough money to pay for our wedding."

Opening a nearby drawer, I slip the gift into it for safekeeping. This is one of the many reasons I'm irrevocably in love with Mel. Even when she deserves the world, she's still humble about it. Getting her to accept the necklace she's wearing was difficult enough. I can't imagine how she feels about a two thousand dollar gift card to our favourite bakery-flower-shop store.

"Mel, they want us to have this. You remember how amazing Shea and Brenna's cake was, right? Or the macarons we always used to buy when we lived in Montréal?"

Although there is still guilt present on her face, she sighs and nods. "Yes, I remember."

"All Hunter and Jayden want is for us to be happy. They'll love knowing they bought our wedding cake."

Smiling, Mel adjusts the buttons of my dress shirt. She undoes another, revealing more of my chest. She pats the bare portion of skin, grinning. "That's better." When she looks at me, her expression is coy. "After you have a few drinks with your friends, and when the party ends, I have plans for tonight."

I dip my head down and kiss Mel. Her mouth tastes like strawberry wine.

My breath is hot against her lips when I speak. "Seems like we have a common motive. Can't wait to see what you have planned, Mel."

Instead of being reactive to my seduction, Mel closes her eyes and sighs. Her hands tighten on my shoulders.

A jolt of worry strikes me. Panic rises in my chest, and I can't prevent myself from asking, "What? What is it, Mel? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she smiles. "Just a headache. I'll take some Advil and quit drinking for the night. I'm okay, I promise. Go spend some time with your friends. I'll make sure everything's running smooth here. We have a few more appetizers we need to serve."

I exhale a deep breath. Recurrence is possible with any cancer patient. We were told to never let it dictate our lives, but also to be conscious of the possibility. Because of that, I often spend late nights online searching the symptoms of secondary breast cancer. One common sign of cancer spreading to the brain is a headache. The next is dizziness.

Standing in the kitchen, I feel clammy beneath the lighting. There's a foul taste on my tongue. A ringing echoes in my ears. I want to believe Mel's words, but there's a cautious, pessimistic part of me that believes we should head straight to the ER.

However, Mel knows her body better than I do. A headache doesn't always mean cancerous tumours. Headaches can be from dehydration or stress. Dizziness can result from alcohol.

Speaking of stress, I don't want to stress her out.

Instead, I smile down at her, sharing another kiss. "Are you sure? I could help."

She smacks my shoulder. "Go, Kal. Have some fun. I'll be there soon."

It's difficult to leave her side, but I force myself to do so. We'll talk about this tomorrow. Tonight, we deserve to celebrate.

*  *  *

The night does not go as planned.

By the time the team leaves, Shea, Jayden, and Hunter are passed out from drinking. They're sleeping in the living room. Hunter's on the floor, while Shea and Jayden each have a couch. Mel went to bed early because of her headache, leaving Brenna and me to clean up any remnants of the party. Which isn't too much. Adults are a lot better at keeping a place clean than teenagers are. Aside from a few empty bottles and some dishes to load into the dishwasher, there isn't much for Brenna and me to do.

While we're drying the dishes, I notice her usual character is off. Her dark-brown hair hangs around her face like a curtain. Her posture is tense. She's also been silent throughout the evening.

I turn to Brenna with purpose.

"Harrison," I drawl. "We need to talk."

She rolls her eyes. "What's up, Johnston?"

A chuckle escapes my lips. "Not sure it works that way."

"Right." She cocks an eyebrow. "What do you want, KJ?"

Brenna takes a sip of her mocktail margarita. Her nose wrinkles in disgust. Then she sets the margarita glass down. "That's disgusting. There isn't any tequila in it."

"Or salt around the rim," I add.

She shoots me a nasty glare.

I flash her a cheeky smile, then hold my hand out. "Come on, Brenna. Let's get some fresh air."

Sighing, Brenna takes my hand and lets me guide to the front door. While we're out here, after our conversation, I'll grab the suitcases for Jayden and Hunter. Might as well get more shit done around here. God knows Jayden, Shea, and Hunter will probably be puking their guts up if they wake up.

Before I open the door, I grab Brenna a sweater from the closet. It's a ratty sweater I use for lounging in the house. Despite all the pilling and holes, it's comfortable, clean, and warm. It's better than Brenna walking outside while wearing a silk tank-top and black leggings. After the party, she wanted to change, so she borrowed some of Mel's clothes.

Brenna takes the sweater and pulls it on, and then we're outside. She follows me to the seating area on the front porch. I take one chair, she takes the other. Several seconds of silence pass by before I clear my throat.

"What's going on, Brenna? You've been distant all night. Is everything okay?" I pause, chewing on my bottom lip. "Is the baby okay?"

A small smile encompasses her lips. She rests a hand on her stomach. "The baby is okay, KJ. Counting down to December fifth makes me nervous, but I think we'll hit the three-month mark. Reaching that mark will relieve some of the stress."

"Then what's going on? You and Shea have been acting strange all night. If something's wrong, I'm here for you. You can confide in me." Again, I chew on my lip. My tone sounds a little aggressive and demanding. Brenna doesn't have to tell me anything if she doesn't want to. "Sorry. That sounded bad. I'm not trying to pressure you. I'm just worried. You were quiet, and Shea was acting like a possessive husband."

Brenna snorts. "He was, wasn't he?"

I stay quiet, pondering what I should say next. My curiosity is strong, but I know I can't press Brenna for more information. Whatever's running through her mind is her story to tell. Choosing to confide in me would be an honour because she's one of my best friends. I hope she trusts me enough to confide in me. But like I said, it's her story.

"Prior to the game..." she trails off, her eyes hard and focused on the view. There's only one streetlamp at the end of our neighbourhood, and it casts an eerie shadow across the pavement and surrounding forest. "Shea forgot his skates. I had to drop them off..."

That's right. He did forget his skates earlier. I remember him cursing himself before stepping out of the locker room to call Brenna. After that, I slipped into my pregame mental state. I had my headphones in with the music blasting.

Her voice becomes nasally. "Mikael sexually assaulted me. He touched my breast without my consent." She pauses, and then she's standing up, pacing the length of the porch. The heels of her hand press against her forehead. "I fucking froze, KJ! What the fuck is wrong with me? I can defend myself—I've taken self-defence classes. But I froze like a fucking wimp."

I'm too overwhelmed by Brenna's tears to care about what Mikael's done. Does it infuriate me? Yes. Am I pissed? Yes. Do I want to murder him? Yes.

But all I care about right now is Brenna. Now that the pieces fit together, tonight makes more sense. It makes me feel a little guilty. They shouldn't have felt obligated to come tonight, especially with Mikael being present. I rub my jaw, combing through all the details.

"It's not your fault, Brenna. Don't call yourself a wimp." I pause. "Shea saw."

Brenna crosses her arms and rubs her biceps, nodding. "Yes. That's why he wouldn't leave my side. We reported Mikael, but there wasn't enough evidence. Your coach also told Shea to stay quiet."

"Fuck." I tug at my hair. This complicates things. Ethically, I can't play for a team that supports this behaviour. It's not fair, and nor is it right. Mikael is roaming freely and communicating with women; potentially preying on them. But this is also my career. It's not supposed to suffer from the actions of someone who deserves the consequences. Shea went through this in high school; his life was affected by the actions of an imbecile.

Which is why we need to nip this in the bud ASAP.

Standing, I join Brenna, leaning against the railing. "First, does Ella know? We have to keep her safe. She's been through enough."

Brenna wipes her nose with the sleeve of my sweater. It doesn't gross me out. I have no Kleenex loitering around outside. Plus, I can wash the sweater later. "Ella knows. Shea told her tonight. As far as I know, Ella shut Mikael down. She's no longer interested in him."

"Good," I nod. "Second, I'll expose Mikael during an interview on TV."

Her mouth drops open. "KJ! You can't do that. It'll ruin your career!"

She's not lying. Exposing Mikael will create a sour experience in Vancouver. I'll either be suspended for a few weeks or I'll be traded at the end of the season. The media will also devour me. Either way, I don't care. If it comes down to it, I will go back to post-secondary school and get a degree. Watching someone like Mikael continue on while others suffer? No. That can't happen.

I look at Brenna, my face hard. "I don't give a fuck. He crossed a line. He needs to suffer the consequences."

"You don't have proof. Aside from my word. And Shea's."

Again, she's not lying. An organization dominated by old white men will refuse Brenna's word. They'll spin a story. What we need is... I snap my fingers. "There are cameras in the hallway outside of the locker room."

Brenna doesn't look convinced. "They probably deleted it."

"Wouldn't hurt to check. I know the security guard. Bring him coffee every game. He's part of the reason we're able to play hockey. Anyone that contributes to our arena deserves respect and credit. I'll talk to him. He'll understand. If we can get that footage, Brenna, then Mikael won't have a leg to stand on. He'll be fucked."

She's still unconvinced. "KJ, as much as I appreciate this, I don't think it will work. I'll be asked questions like what I was wearing. What I said. If I did anything to provoke Mikael. Either way, I'm on the losing end. Especially if they find out I'm pregnant. They'll spin it and blame it on hormones. Either way, I'll look like the villain. Mikael will get what he wants."

Once again, Brenna speaks the truth. However, anyone with a behaviour pattern like Mikael's results from habitual reasons. You can't tell me he hasn't done something like this before. He views himself as the predator. Superior to anyone else.

I bite the inside of my cheek. It's all I can do to control the sudden wave of anger rushing through my veins. Shea was right about Mikael, and I brushed him off like a fool. Fuck, I owe him an apology.

Brenna side-eyes me. "You're acting very calm about this. Logical."

Her words make me chuckle. As much as I want to lose my mind, I can't. Beating up my teammate will cause serious consequences, too. Violence is never the answer. "What does Shea want to do?"

"The same as you," Brenna sighs. "We fought about it earlier." She looks at me. "This isn't a reflection of my character, KJ. Of course, I want to take him down, but when it's a serious offence, women are always fucked over. Dealing with Connor was child's play."

A crease forms between my brows, and I run my pointer finger along the grain of the wood. Once spring arrives, Mel and I will redo the front porch and the remaining exterior of the house. It's too dark for us. We want the exterior painted white with dark trim around the windows. The front yard will have more plants, too. Lilacs and lavender. Shrubs lining the pathway. Black-Eyed Susan. Roses.

"When has the threat ever stopped you?" I ask. "We don't need to make this public. At least, not yet. If I can find evidence, will you think about letting Shea and I discuss this with our coach and staff? Talking to them will allow us to keep your name confidential. They won't want this getting out. What's happened is serious because it means Mikael doesn't care. He'll do what he wants until he gets caught."

I rub the untrimmed stubble on my jaw. Brenna knows there are unsaid words. If we're not able to gain some justice, we'll need to take it public. It puts a lot of pressure on her, which is why I'm hoping our plan will work. With enough threat, maybe action will be taken.

Brenna exchanges an uneasy glance with me, but eventually concedes. "Okay. Fine. I'm okay with that. If there's footage of Mikael touching me, then we'll fight."

"Do you want me to tell Mel?" I ask.

Brenna nods. "You'll do the story justice, KJ. You always do."

I flash her a soft smile. "Would you be okay with a hug?"

"KJ," she smiles. "While I appreciate your respect, you don't need my permission to hug me. We've known each other for years, and I trust you. Between you and me, a hug is okay. You're pretty much family."

I pull Brenna into a hug. "I love you, Harrison."

She sniffles. "Love you, too, Johnston."

"Again," I laugh. "Not how it works."

"Again," she replies, sounding a little more like herself. "I don't give a fuck."