“Mom. You don’t need to get up for me.” I rush over to hook my arm through hers.
“Of course I got up to see my baby. I’ve missed you. How’s everything going?”
“Come on, let’s go sit down, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
She’s leaning on me, but she lets me lead her over to the couch that’s been a part of our family longer than my sister. The beige plaid print is several shades lighter than it used to be, but I can’t imagine them getting rid of it, even if they could afford to.
The arm she slides over my shoulder after we settle down might be even thinner than my sister’s.
“Are you going to stop fussing over me and tell me about school? How’s hockey going? Any new boys? Tell me everything.”
I smile, happy to be here even if it’s just to keep her company. After everything she sacrificed for me, I can show up to be here for her. Even if the weight of my schoolwork combined with my hectic hockey schedule is causing my anxiety to flare up. It’s okay. I’ve got techniques for dealing with it now. I can handle it.
“Hockey’s great. It’s been good seeing the girls again. The team is really coming together. School is good too.”
“And boys?” There’s a hopeful tone to her question.
I press my lips together. Mom and Dad met in college, and they’ve been madly in love ever since. She’s always said she has a feeling I’ll meet the love of my life in college, too. She claims she’s a little psychic. And while there have been a few instances of minor predictions coming true, they’re coincidences, nothing more. It looks like that one’s a flop. Haven’t met the one yet, so I think I’m in the clear.
“Mom, I barely have time to breathe. Dating is definitely not on the syllabus.”
“I know. But you know me and my feelings.”
“Uh huh. Well, there is a guy I’ve gotten involved with.”
Her hand tightens on my shoulder. “Really?”
“Not like that. He’s on the men’s hockey team. We’ve been ordered to work together. He’s a total ass, though. And since he might be the only guy I’m spending time with this semester, I’m pretty sure your feeling is going to let us down on this one.”
“Maybe.”
Great, now she thinks I’m going to get together with Beau Whitaker. Never. Not in a trillion years. Not even if he was the last man left on a dying planet.
Chapter 8
Claws & Effect
Beau
Afifthpassofmy cloth over the perfectly polished marble countertop doesn’t make any visible difference, but that won’t stop me from doing it a sixth time while I wait for JJ to appear. If he’s not down here in two minutes, I’m going to have to drag him out of his room, and I hate going in there. It’s a total catastrophe. Kind of like Cece’s when we were kids. I’m sure it’s just as bad now. I could ask Dev, but then I’d have to admit he spends time in my sister’s room.
She used to tell me it wasn’t my business since I didn’t have to live there, but she never understood. Just knowing that chaotic nightmare is under the same roof as my room puts me on edge.
I glance at my watch again, putting the cloth away and then pulling it back out again.
“Beau.” JJ sounds nothing like his usual boisterous self. Usually, I have to remind him to use his indoor voice. The subdued, almost pained tone is ominous.
“JJ.” I finish my seventh wipe, place the cloth carefully back on its designated hook under the sink and spin around as I’m standing up.
My stomach plummets. JJ looks like crap. His brown eyes are glassy, hair damp and even messier than usual. And he’s still in his pajamas. The ones that have rocket ships all over them as if he’s still a kid. I hope he doesn’t wear those when he has girls over.
“Why aren’t you dressed yet?”
“Beau, man…” He runs a hand through his hair. “I feel like crap.”
“Don’t say it, JJ. Don’t back out on me.” None of the other guys could make it to the volunteer thing today, but JJ was excited about it. “Were you drinking last night?”
His gross, phlegmy cough rocks his body forward. There goes that theory. If he’d been drinking, I would have forced his hungover ass to pull himself together and follow through on his promise. But if he’s sick? No thank you. He can keep those germs away from me. I do not have any spare time this year. I’m not getting sick.
