I look over to notice Aviva does love it. “You brat!”
She snorts and shrugs. “I like the attention.”
I grin. “Attention whore.”
“Only for you,” she says with a wink. “But yes, the play-offs. You’re leaving a lot, and I don’t want to move us by myself.”
“I’ll pay to move us,” I remind her, and then I clear my throat. “Plus, I really want to live next door to Chandler and Amelia. And the house is going to go fast.”
“Oh my God, your bromance with him is borderline worrisome,” Callie teases, and I flip her the bird, to which she laughs. “But hey, I can babysit and make some cash.”
“Yeah, I need you to pay off those boobs,” Aviva says, and I make a face.
“I have a joke.”
“And I’m so proud of you for not telling it since I know it’s inappropriate,” she says as she looks at the house that is by Chandler and Amelia’s. “It is a really nice house. Five bedrooms and four baths. You’d have your own bathroom, Callie.”
“Is it far away from you two?”
“Forget it. She’s sleeping in the closet like that Potter kid.”
“You’re not funny!” Callie exclaims, but I happen to think I’m hilarious. “But it is a nice house,” she says, looking over Aviva’s shoulder.
“It is. Maybe we should take this one?”
“I think we should.”
To say I’m excited is an understatement. The season is going great for the IceCats, and we’re the number-one seed in the Eastern Conference. Callie had a great season and placed top three at all her meets. The shop is doing awesome, and we’ve donated a lot of money to the YMCA’s ABC program for breast cancer survivors. Aviva has also been going to meetings with Callie and Jaylin. The best part, though, is we’re still astonishingly in love with each other, which is why we need a bigger place. I don’t like her small place, and she hates mine. We need more space, and when we find it, I’m asking this girl to marry me. She’ll say yes, and when we go to Barcelona after the finals, we’ll take my Cup and get married.
Aviva has no clue about any of this, but it’s going to happen.
I can feel it in my bones.
Just gotta get through Boobageddon.
When we reach the hospital for Aviva’s and Callie’s pre-op appointments, my stomach aches a bit. Makes me nervous to know both my girls will go in for surgery. Callie’s will be longer and more extensive, but I’ll worry the same for both of them. Thankfully my mom is coming to town to help since I start the finals in two weeks. The doctor isn’t too worried about their recovery time, but I’m freaking the hell out.
I park the truck and get out as Aviva does the same. Callie hops out of the back and looks at me. “You nervous?”
I nod. “Freaking the shit out.”
She taps my chest. “Because of germs or us?”
“Shit, I hadn’t even thought of the germs!”
“Great, Callie. Great,” Aviva calls, coming over to hold my hand. I bring them our hands up and kiss the back of hers. “It’s going to be fine. This is so routine. They just slap the boobs in, and we’re done.”
“But Callie’s makes me real nervous.”
She waves me off, though I see the fear in her eyes. “She’s going to be fine. I was. Don’t worry.”
I make a face. “Are you sure you two can’t just skip the boobs?”
“Nope,” they both say, and I groan loudly.
These two are going to kill me. Aviva likes to say Callie and I gang up on her, but I really think it’s the other way around. They know that I’ll crumble and do whatever they want. I want to make them happy, and I like how they make me feel. The last couple months, I’ve really grown as a man. I actually did my first interview for the IceCats a week ago. Yes, it wasn’t live—and yes, I had a panic attack—but I answered two questions. So, I think my therapy is working. I’m not sure, but in a way, I don’t care as long as I feel good. I feel good not doing interviews and just playing great hockey. No one else feels that way, though, but Aviva doesn’t push me. She’s just supportive enough to make me feel I can do anything, and I know she’d be there if I fell.
Which makes me love her even more.
Nerves are eating me alive as we head inside, but Aviva is cool as a cucumber. Even Callie is. They’re excited and happy, and while I’m not, I can now add scared shitless of germs on to the list of today's fears. I hate hospitals. We head to where they are doing their pre-ops, and I wait as they talk to the nurse. Over here, I don’t have to hear anything, procedure-wise, and maybe I won’t be where people have touched anything. I don’t lean on the wall; I just stand in a spot I don’t think anyone has touched while I wait for them.