“Don’t get too comfortable. I’m heading out as soon as Silas and Mom finish up.”
I swat at his stomach, but he blocks my hand.
“You’ll have to be quicker than that,” he says before his fingers attack my sides.
I squeal. “Okay, okay!”
“She’s already injured, man. Don’t hurt her more.” Silas’s voice travels through the room, making both of us jump at the protectiveness in his tone. Noah eyes me, but I quickly slide to the other end of the couch, out of his reach.
Noah stands, shaking his head. “Are you ready to head out? I need to get back home, but Jett and I’ll be up tomorrow afternoon at some point.”
“Yeah.” Silas turns those storm-gray eyes to me. “Brunch tomorrow? I can pick you up. Maybe grab a bite at Sally’s before picking up Aubrey?”
My head nods on its own accord before I clear my throat and tuck a strand of loose hair behind my ear. “Um, yeah. Sounds good. Eight?”
I half expect him to walk over and hug me or kiss my head, but instead, he just pats the doorframe and gives me the most awkward wave imaginable. “See you at eight.”
As he walks out, Noah glances between us.
“Not a word,” I warn before melting into the couch cushions with a groan at the weirdness of it all.
“Kiss and make up already,” he says, ignoring me completely. “I’m all for Team Sil-Oaks, but the sexual tension is thick enough to choke on.”
Chapter 11
Oakley Kate
“The smell of absolute deliciousness in this little diner is enough to classify as a food-gasm, and you will never convince me otherwise,” I whisper louder than I should as Silas and I settle into a booth—our booth—at the back of the hole-in-the-wall diner. He positions himself to have a view of both the entrance and the kitchen, something new I noticed last night, too. Not that he stared at our front door, but that he was more aware of his surroundings.
I still don’t know if this is a good idea or a completely stupid one, but I’ll take what time I can get with him before he hits the ice tomorrow. With the home opener so close, his schedule will leave little time for chitchat.
“Well, if it isn’t two of my favorite Steele Valley natives,” says the lifelong gossiper and owner of this little gem, Mrs. Sally Harper. She’s older, probably somewhere in her late-sixties, but she’s been a constant in our lives since we were old enough to sneak away from our parents.
“Hey, Mrs. Harper,” we say together, and I can already see the wheels turning. Everyone on this street is about to know we werespotted sharing a meal. They’ll keep it away from the nosy media types, but the ones who watched us grow up will know.
“You two don’t know how much good the sight of y’all sitting in this booth does for my old heart,” she says, a toothy grin filling her face as she pulls a pen from her apron and scribbles what looks like nonsense before tearing it off and laying it face down. “Both of you done grown up and forgot about me, I reckon.”
“Never, ma’am,” Silas says, that cute up-to-no-good smirk present. “We love you too much to forget about you.”
“You big suck up. More like you love my food too much.”
“That, too.” He offers her a cheeky grin as she pretends to whack him on the head with her notepad.
“I’ll put in an order for the Ladybug Special. Food’ll be out soon.”
As she walks away, my ears burn. Why? Because Mrs. Harper just put in our specialty breakfast. When we were kids, I’d always order pancakes with strawberries and blueberries on top. Silas had a habit of preparing my food, even then.
“You know that isn’t on the menu,” I mumble.
“Of course, it isn’t. I made it up on one of those days where you were too sad to eat. Said it was a ladybug because I didn’t know how to make my Katibug into a pancake picture.” He snorts a laugh before fidgeting with the sugar rack. I can’t tell if he’s avoiding me or just processing the fact that Mrs. Harper still remembers that order.
I finally get impatient with the silence. “So…how’s preseason going?”
Lame. So lame. What even was that?
He chuffs a laugh. “It’s not,” he says, still reorganizing the sugar and Splenda packets. “Thorn’s probably going to move me to a different line this season since I can’t seem to get my shit together.”
“He won’t risk moving you. Youarethat team. I watched every game last season, and they’re nothing without you and Rooker on the ice.”
