Preferably far, far away.
Before she can respond, a second body approaches the table. For a second, I brace myself for more irritation, but relief floods through me when I see who it is. My step-brother and best friend, Hughie, drops into the chair across from me with his signature resting bitch face firmly in place.
“Hey, Hugh,” Lauren breathes, immediately switching gears to her flirt mode as she bats her lashes.
Jesus Christ, this girl is relentless. I roll my eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t fall out of my skull.
Hughie doesn’t even glance at her. He just grunts, the most non-committal noise I’ve ever heard, and turns straight to me. “Did you get your assignment today?”
I nod. “Baseball.”
Lauren pipes up before I can say more, “I got golf.”
She pouts dramatically, like that’s the most tragic thing anyone’s ever experienced. I can’t help it, I laugh.
Hughie, however, does something so much better. He slowly drags his gaze to her, his face perfectly blank except for the faintest hint of disdain. And when Hughie looks annoyed? You feel it in your soul.
He doesn’t even try to hide it when he says, “Aren’t you fucking Thomas? He’s the golf captain, right?”
Lauren’s face flushes red, probably with embarrassment, but maybe anger. It’s hard to tell with her. She pouts harder, which I didn’t think was possible.
“I was seeing him, but... ya know, that ended,” she says, twirling her hair like she couldn’t care less. Then she gives me a pointed look. “I was trying to get Jakey to trade with me.”
Hughie snorts, a sharp, incredulous sound that almost makes me lose it. There’s something about Hughie’s ability to shut people down that I find endlessly satisfying.
“Figures,” he mutters, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. Then he jerks his chin at me and says, very pointedly, “Jacob’s too smart for that shit. Try someone else.”
I don’t say anything, but I can’t resist the smirk as Lauren flounces off with one last dramatic sigh, muttering something under her breath I don’t bother trying to catch.
The second she’s out of earshot, I let out a low laugh and shake my head. “You didn’t have to do her that dirty, man.”
Hughie shrugs, utterly unapologetic. “She deserved it. And you’re welcome.”
He’s not wrong, but I don’t say that out loud. Instead, I lean back in my chair and grin. “You’re a real fucking hero, Hugh.”
“Damn right,” he says, smirking as he pulls out his phone. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about your assignment.”
I groan and throw my head back dramatically. “Will it ever end?”
He snorts, and when I glance at him, he’s smiling at me fondly. “You’re a fucking dork.”
I roll my eyes and lean back again. “Whatever, out with it. What about my assignment?”
His eyes search mine, and then he sighs. “I talked to Coach. He’s pulling you over to us.”
The wave of joy that hits me nearly makes me lightheaded.
Hockey has always been my number one. Not just a preference, it’sthedream. I grew up watching games on the tv, practicing with Hughie, obsessing over stats, memorizing players, learning the rhythm of the sport like it was a language only we spoke. I shadowed the team doctor in high school, just for the chance to be near the rink. I wrote every college essay about it. I practically mapped my entire future around one goal: get into the pro league as a team physician and keep those guys on the ice.
“Seriously?” I breathe, smiling so hard at Hughie it actually hurts.
He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Yes, seriously. The email should come through any minute now.”
“Have I told you lately that you’re the best brother ever?” I say, all sarcasm but really, he kind of is.
He groans and stands. “Get your shit. I wanna go home before it starts raining.”
It’s nearly eleven p.m.,and at this point, I’m basically a permanent fixture on the couch, halfway through a binge of my favorite TV series, when Hughie comes storming down the narrow hallway of our apartment with a scowl that would make a normal person piss their pants.
