Odder snorts as Louis cackles. “No, not that,” he says, still chuckling. “I’ve got a plan to get her number, but that’s not what I wanted to ask.” I perk a brow at him. “I wanted to ask why you’re even entertaining football. You’ve always been a beast of a defenseman, and you have a hell of a shot. So why not choose what is right?”
Because what if it’s not right?
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly, unable to open up to him about this.
“I don’t get it,” Louis adds. “You know you’re better on ice. Fuck the championship, fuck football, do what you were born to do.” I hold my brother’s gaze. Unlike my hazel eyes, his have a rim of dark blue around them. They almost look teal, but it’s not the color that has me all in my feelings; it’s the confidence he has in me. The love. He looks up to me, and shit, am I letting him down?
“You should have gone into the draft five years ago.”
I swallow hard. “I don’t know, guys. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
“Driving me to an early grave.” I hear my dad before he slaps Louis’s shoulder. He leans over, shaking hands with Odder. “ChillPhill, how’re your parents? I haven’t seen your dad all summer, and I checked in at Audrey’s cupcake shop.”
Odder nods, grinning ear to ear. My dad has been calling him that since he was a kid. He has such a Zen-like state to him. I’ve never seen him get mad, on or off the ice. The only time he breaks sticks is when they get caught in something. He’s never broken one out of anger.
I have a bucket at home of my broken sticks. Hell, so does my dad.
And my mom.
“He has been traveling all over to scout for the Assassins.”
Dad nods. “I should have known. Audrey wasn’t there either. Only Penny.”
“Yeah, Penny is running the shop now that she’s done with volleyball. And Mom went with Dad.”
I really shouldn’t fault Phillipe for checking out my cousin. I have checked out his older sister for years. Penny is a looker. All legs and the prettiest hazel-blue eyes ever. I tried to holler at her this summer, but she wants a relationship, not a trade-off of orgasms, which is all I offer women.
“Good to have you home,” Dad says, leaning against the boards. “Maybe you can talk some sense into my son.”
We laugh at that, because all you can do is think the whole situation is a joke. I feel like a joke. I know this is weighing on my dad, and really, Odder is right. I am a damn good defenseman, and I enjoy being on the ice.
But damn it, I love the feel of the pigskin in my hand. The way my cleats bury into the turf. The anticipation of getting tackled and the adrenaline of my receiver catching my throw?
Yeah, it’s amazing.
Phillipe, ever the people pleaser, gives my dad a wink. “I’ll work on him.”
Before I can defend myself or even try to smooth over the situation, I hear my mom’s voice. “Jay, we have that meeting. She’s waiting on us.”
Dad stands up and nods. I look back to my mom to find that she’s in her teal leggings and oversized Bullies sweatshirt. She has her glasses on with her hair up in a tight bun. She waves her hand in greeting to her left, and when I look at where she is waving, my heart stops dead in my chest.
Like, full-out fucking stops.
I feel like the offensive line didn’t hold back an outside linebacker and my ass slammed into the grass.
Or better yet, a two-hundred-pound fucking goon got me against the boards.
Shit, both.
At. The. Same. Damn. Time.
I think I may have died.
But I’m breathing.
Then my heart kicks up, pounding so hard my vision is vibrating as my eyes lock with a pair of whiskey-brown ones that are framed in sooty, thick black lashes. My mouth goes dry, and I earnestly drink in the gorgeous woman before me like my lifedepends on it. Her skin is the color of the lightest caramel, her face is round, her lips heart-shaped and bright pink with gloss. Her wild mane of dark curls sits in a pile on her head with a few strands falling along her plump cheeks and temples. I want to curl a piece around my finger and yank it to bring her to me to taste that pouty mouth of hers.
Not to sound like a cliché, but I’ve seen my fair share of girls and women, but none, and I mean none, has ever made my heart kick up the way it is right now.
