They all jump a little at my voice, like they’re getting caught doing something they’re not supposed to. I glance between them hesitantly. Hudson ducks his head and I immediately know they’ve done something. He always does that when he’s guilty.
I pretend I don’t notice, instead I turn and head into the kitchen. We can talk when we don’t have company.
Matty looks to his dad, who tilts his head intentionally in my direction.
“Would you like to stay for dinner? I’m making Hudson’s favourite homemade pizzas.” I say breezily like I don’t notice the intense silent conversation Tate and Matty are having.
“That would be great, as long as we aren’t intruding.” Tate says and stands from his chair. He comes around the kitchen island and his gaze heats as I take the clip out of my hair, letting it tumble down around my shoulders.
“What can I do?”
Matty takes Tate's seat at the table and avoids his gaze.
What is that about?
None of my business I suppose. Instead, I direct Tate about prepping the toppings while I make the dough. This is Hudson’s favourite part but for some reason he’s squirming in his seat. Matty says something quietly to him but snaps back around when he sees me watching them.
Tate and I work quietly assembling the pizzas. I catch Tate giving each boy a pointed look whenhe thinks I'm not looking. He leans down and puts the pizzas in the oven.
“Okay.” I prop a hip against the counter, “Who’s gonna tell me what’s going on?”
Instead of answering for the boys, Tate stands taller as he wipes his hands on a towel, keeping his gaze on them. He comes to stand beside me, crosses his arms and gives them a single nod.
Oh my God.My entire body lights on fire at the warmth of him next to me.Why is that so hot?
No. Bad Alli.No Athletes. We know how this ends.
Hudson speaks first, his words bursting past his lips like it was killing him to hold them in. “It was my fault, mom. I’m so sorry.”
“No, it was my fault. I should've turned the other way with the bat, but I didn’t think about it.” Matty rubs his forehead.
“Yes, but I threw it,” Hudson argues.
“But I'm the one who hit it.” Matty argues back. My head is ping ponging between them as they argue about who did whatever it is they did.
Now Tate waiting with the boys at my house instead of theirs is starting to make sense.
I’m glancing around, confused, trying to see what looks different. The pictures are still on the walls. My foster mother's vase is still on the coffee table— unfortunately. I wish that would get broken “accidentally”, so I don't have to keep it out when they insist on coming for a visit like last week.
“It really was my fault, mom. Please don’t make me stop hanging out with Matty.” Hudson’s plea snaps me back to the moment.
“Yea, it was an accident I swear.” Matty pleads. My heart melts a little.
I give him a soft smile. “I can tell you boys are truly sorry. I’m not upset but I still don’t know what happened. Can someone explain it to me?Slowly.”
Tate rests a hand on my shoulder, and the warmth of his hand seeps through the thin fabric of my blouse to my skin. He turns me around so I’m looking out my kitchen window and points a finger to where a baseball bat still lays. “The boys were playing ball in my backyard, right there.”
“Okay…” I’m still not understanding the issue though. “So?”
Tate chuckles and tells the boys over his shoulder. “I guess we did a pretty good replacement job. She can’t even tell the difference.”
I just raise a brow waiting for them to spit it out. Hudson finally answers. “We broke the window.Butwe went with Tate to the store and we helped replaced it. He taught me how to measure it and everything.”
My mouth drops open in shock.
He what?
I look back at the window, closer examining it this time. The glass is a little cleaner, and I can see a little bit of the dust that Matty missed.
