Chapter 3
Oakley Kate
Dark clouds hang low over the road as I ride shotgun in my brother’s girlfriend’s SUV. I hate this stupid weather. The asphalt is wet and slick from all the rain we’ve gotten today, and Georgians can only drive in optimal weather conditions.
We never have optimal weather.
Add in the heaviness in the air as humidity sets in, and the gross, post-hot-shower feeling becomes a living nightmare. Oh, yeah. And this stupid ankle boot that keeps bumping the glove box.
Maybe if I unbuckle, open the door, and jump out fast enough, Jett won’t notice.
My hand inches toward the door handle.
“Don’t you dare open that door, Oakley Slater. Your brother would have my head.”
I snort. “As if. And I wasn’t actually going to jump out of a moving car,” I add. “I was going to wait until we inevitably get stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic again and quietly roll out. Big difference.”
My not-sister-in-law shakes her head at me. Not in disbelief, because she most definitely believes I’d do it. One giant, living, intrusive thought. That’s me!
Honestly, I’d do anything to get away from here right now. Instead, I’m being carted back to home sweet home. Please note the sarcasm. Steele Valley, Georgia is the last place I want to be for a multitude of reasons.
“Intrusive thoughts aside”—see? She knows me—“can we not joke about bailing from a moving vehicle? I’m paranoid enough driving with all these idiots on the road.” Her fingers tense around the steering wheel as a sports car swaps lanes in front of us.
I bite my tongue, because she’s doing me a major solid.
“Your brother is going to kill me for not telling him about this. And for driving in these conditions. I could try turning it into a reminiscing-type moment since we met in weather like this, but that’d probably just solidify his very protective, very accurate reasoning.”
“You could push him down an elevator shaft and he’d still forgive you. He loves you in that ooey-gooey, mushy way.”
“You fractured your ankle, Oaks.”
“We don’t know how bad it is yet,” I grumble. I wish the headrest would swallow me up. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have the toe of your shoe grab on the teeth at the bottom of an escalator and face-plant in front of a couple hundred travelers?
“Save me from the escalator safety lecture that Mr. Elevator Mechanic will most definitely give me if he finds out, Jett. Please? For your best friend?”
The sigh that leaves her lips lets me know I’ve won, at least for now.
“I can get off at the next exit and head toward Havenwood. The loft next door is still open.”
“I’m not moving in with you guys. Or next door. Love y’all, but no thanks. I’ll take my chances staying with Mama. Maybe hit up a few open practices if the guys are at the home rink any time soon.”
Jett keeps her mouth shut, but her eyes cut to me. The strain of holding her thoughts back is visible.
“Go ahead. Say it.”
She winces. “Probably not something that should come out of my mouth.”
“Since when do you censor yourself around me?”
“Since it’s about your non-existent relationship with a certain hockey player who’s in town right now?”
I sink deeper into the seat but flinch as the movement sends a twinge up my leg. “Don’t know what you mean.” I totally do. “Silas and I are on good terms. Just because the life we wanted went up in flames doesn’t mean we don’t support each other. I’m his biggest fan.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” She laughs. “You literally have his jersey number tattooed on your hip.”
“Okay, no fair.” I half-laugh, half-cry. I forgot she knew about that one.
At least she doesn’t know about the one on my inner thigh.
