We stick to a few other safe topics, like the current hockey season going on. All of us still root for our teamback in Pittsburgh, so that’s something we can agree on. Hayden fills us in on his brothers, then Walker tells us about his new hobby he’s taken up.
Building model airplanes.
Doesn’t seem interesting to me, or even like something he’d like, but he seems to enjoy it.
Then Nikolai opens his big mouth again. “So did you two know that our friend here has a girlfriend?” He takes a swig from his beer with a knowing smirk. Two sets of eyes swing my way.
Walker’s the one to say, “Was she the one at the bar?”
“What bar?” Hayden asks.
“When Reid and I talked.”
Hayden hums and turns his attention back to me. Guess Walker filled him in about that conversation.
“Yes, she was there,” I tell them. My throat’s dry and I clear it with a drink. “It’s actually Aspen.”
They both blink at me, her name not registering.
“Do you remember my foster sister from back in Pittsburgh?”
Recognition flashes in Walker’s green eyes. “Holy shit. Like your little sister?”
“Foster,” I shoot back. “And she’s only seven years younger.”
“No shit.” He leans back in the deck chair, which creaks beneath the bulk of his size. “She’s living here?”
I nod. The steaks sizzle on the grill, mixing with the sounds of the bugs chirping around us.
“Had you guys kept in touch?” Hayden asks.
“Nope.” I tell them the same story Penny told Nikolai of how we ran into each other again. To my surprise, neither of them seem anything but happy for me. All three of them are.
It adds a little kindling to that brimming, terrifying thing in my stomach.
Hope.
They continue asking about her, and it feels good to tell them about her. It reminds me of how it used to be between us. “Her cat fucking hates me,” I grumble, the scratch on my arm stinging that he gave me last night when I rolled over in bed on him.
Nikolai covers his mouth with his hand while Hayden’s shoulders shake silently.
“What?” I demand.
“Sounds like it’s a good judge of character,” Walker remarks.
“Fuck off,” I mutter. “I just gotta win the little fucker over.”
“Well maybe you should start by not referring to it as ‘little fucker,’” Nikolai suggests.
“His name isMacaroni. You expect me to call him that?”
Neither Nikolai or Hayden hide it this time. They both bust out laughing, Walker joining in.
“I’m burning your fucking steaks,” I grumble and turn back to the grill.
We eatdinner together outside on the porch, soaking in the view as well as adjusting to being around each other after so long apart. The four of us haven’t been in the same room together since our final show.
The conversation is kept surface level, mostly mediated by Nikolai. Once we clean up the dishes, we disperse to our rooms. There’s two on the main level and two upstairs.Walker and Hayden take the bottom two while Nikolai and I claim the upper two.
