My sisters would often come home from dances or parties and bend my ear for hours about so and so and this and that. The only thing to do is ride it out.
“I loved watching you dance together. You make the perfect match.”
I agree. But Pizza is off-limits. It’s bad enough that I’d been thinking about her for the last few days.
“Mom, thank you for trying to help me with—” I tip my head toward the door to her room, where Dad retreated without so much as a good night.
“He’s been under a lot of pressure at work.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling.”
“Is your coach really making you attend that program?”
“He really is. So, I’ll be unavailable for the next thirty days. Hammer also said that dating is off the table unless it involves a trip down the aisle.”
“Well, that’s what we’ve been saying all night.”
“Mom.”
She tips her head to the side. “Chase and Pippa. Has a good ring to it. Just think about it.”
Trust me, I have.
“Good night, Mom.” I hug her and then head to my room.
After showering, I stretch and then check the weather for tomorrow. I sit on the bed and swipe the screen to my contacts. I feel stupid admitting it, but like Mom, I too need to diffuse.
It’s no surprise that my father didn’t speak to me at the Smythe’s party. But he’s like a snake in the grass. I know it’s there. Definitely dangerous, but I’m not sure when it’ll spring. He likes to keep me waiting. It’s the burn of his silence and the anticipation of his strike that’s part of the punishment. Then he’ll tell me what a disappointment I am.
Meanwhile, Mom carried on like I didn’t get in trouble for showing my backside to the world. Well, technically, Brandon was the only intended audience. If I were being tried in front of a jury, I’d want to drive that point home.
My mother also decided that I’m marrying Freddie’s sister. Cue thebadum-dumsound effect. Is the joke on me? I thought I was the prankster.
Again, in my defense, I was following Freddie’s lead because it seemed the safest way to avoid my crush, aka his twin sister, by eliminating any possibility of a spark forming between us.
Doesn’t my mother realize that? Surely, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson know their son and that he’s insanely protective of her. I’m certain they’re aware of what he did to Jason Gibbons after he said something about Pippa’s—well, never mind. Then there was the whole Eli Barnes thing when I had to talk Freddiedown from beating the kid to a pulp for having the nerve to ask Pippa if she wanted to study in the stacks at Gilson Library. Granted, the location had some connotations, but I don’t think she was aware of them.
Mom isn’t an option, even though typically she’s a good person to talk to. I don’t want to feed the beast.
My sisters, except Rhiannon, are in the States. Although it’s earlier there with the time difference, if I mentioned any of what transpired tonight and how I feel, likely it would get back to our mother.
Then there’s Rhiannon, but if I avoid her, I can pretend theCrush or Cupidthing doesn’t exist. I do not want to get involved in that.
Of course, I have an entire football team of friends who’d drop whatever they’re doing, day or night, if I needed an ear. But the subject of this particular conversation would result in a team tackle and I’m still recovering from the last time I so much as suggested that bachelorhood was overrated.
That leaves my best friend.
Nope. Not telling him that I like...Pizza.
The fact of the matter is, there is no world in which she and I would ever be together. It’s a lovely notion, but it’s not happening. Not in real life. Not in Mom’s fairytale fantasy of being neighbors with the Thompsons on some remote island or whatever it was they concocted while Pippa stood there looking shell-shocked as we said our goodbyes for the evening.
This situation is fictional. The first page doesn’t readOnce Upon a Time.No, the first words of the first chapter areThe End.
And yet, I need to talk to someone about what happened because I saw my future. No, it wasn’t because I became a possessive man-beast when Benedict tried to make a move. Nor did I drink whatever Charlie Smythe had hidden in his flask, andI certainly didn’t fall on the damp marble steps and crack my head.
I saw the aisle Coach Hammer mentioned. I saw all the days, months, and years after that. There was our wedding day and night. The honeymoon, making a home together, kids in the kitchen, and playing ball outside. There was even a swing in an old oak tree detail, like my grandmother and Cap had at their house when I was a kid.
There were Easter egg hunts, skinned knees, and exhausted nights where Pippa and I just looked at each other likeWhat are we doing?!then start laughing.
