“That’s not how I meant that. I just don’t get it. I mean, he’s a good-looking guy, he has an incredible job, and he makes crazy good money. That feels like a win to me.”
Seriously Walks? I’ve got way more to offer than just looks and money.
“There’s so much wrong with that statement, I don’t even know where to start so I’ll break it down for you. Slowly, because apparently your tiny brain needs help.”
“Hey!”
“Shh, the grownups are talking.” I blink. Wow, that was a spectacular burn, although I probably wouldn’t feel that way if she were talking to me.
“First, yes, of course, Liam is hot. He’s an athlete with an incredible body, great hair, and pretty eyes.”
Finally, something I can work with, except for the eye part. Not sure I like being called pretty, but she did say I was hot, so yay me, right?
“Which is irrelevant because I’m not picking a life partner based on their looks. That’s shallow and stupid. Yes, he has a terrific career. Now. But what about the rest of his life, especially after hockey? Does he have a plan? Does he even think about that? With his mom handling everything for him, how could he? He basically plays hockey and video games. That sounds like a child to me.”
Damn, I rub my chest as if I can wipe away her words. I can take constructive criticism, but I might be at my limit for the day.
She’s not wrong, though.
I know. I’m aware of my flaws, although I don’t appreciate the fact that everyone thought today was the day to let me know about them. Fuck, I get it. Message received.
“Let’s not even mention the fact that I would never date someone because of their money. I can’t believe that you would even say that. It’s like you don’t even know me? I want a partner, Walker. A grown-up adult partner. Someone to share my life with, not someone who needs to be taken care of, who can’t handle simple adult stuff. As my brother, I can’t believe you’d want any less for me.”
Her voice hiccups, and it sounds like she’s about to cry. Oh God. I hate it when she cries. It makes me want to hit things. I kind of want to hit Walker right now.
“I didn’t mean it that way. Geez, you’re so emotional.”
Not sure he could have said anything worse than that, except maybe, calm down. I’m not very skilled with women, but even I know not to say that.
“Too emotional?” Her voice ramps up another octave.
Oh shit. I hope she doesn’t kick him in the nuts again. She’s done it before. She was six, and he stole her favorite stuffie, so he deserved it, but still. Of course, because he’s Walker, he keeps going.
“Yes, you’re acting just like Mom, all critical and shit. If you’re going to tell me everything I’m doing wrong then I get to tell you, too.” Walker bites out, his tone entirely too self-satisfied and, honestly, kind of mean.
“Take. It. Back! I do not sound like Mom. How could you even say that to me?”
Oh hell. I know that tone of voice, and I’m not sticking around while Walker gets his ass handed to him. This situation feels shitty enough as it is without hearing more. I book it out of the bathroom and back to the table because the last thing I need is for her to think I might be eavesdropping.
You actually were eavesdropping.
I ignore my brain and head back to the kitchen where Kenji’s doing the dishes. I get busy clearing the rest of the food off the table. Thank goodness I don’t have to front for too long, though, because I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to keep it together.
Walker stomps out of the office, chin stubbornly high, face like a thundercloud. Madison’s right behind him, eyes glassy and jaw clenched. She takes one look at me, and her mouth thins, eyes turning to granite. Fuck me. Not sure this night could get any worse.
My face flames, and I almost drop the serving dish I’m carrying. My emotions are chaotic, and I’m having a hard time controlling my expressions. I duck my head and turn towards the sink. Kenji gives me a sympathetic look, gently plucking the dish from my now-shaking hands. I shove them in my pockets before anyone notices, even though I’m pretty sure that Kenji caught it. He keeps it to himself, and I send him a grateful look.
“Ready to head out, Liam?” Walker asks, voice tight and sullen.
“Sure,” I respond, trying to be nonchalant, but I’m sure no one is buying it. “Umm.. thanks for dinner, Kenz.”
My response is lame, but I have no idea what else to say after everything that went down tonight. Instead, I just give them a short wave and walk towards the door. It feels like too much and too little at the same time, but I’m an emotional disaster. I just need to get the hell out of here.
Walker just grunts his goodbye, stomping out and slamming the door rudely. I sigh and follow him to the car.
The ride home is deathly quiet. We don’t even turn on the radio. Walker is flat out fuming. Normally, I would ask him what’s wrong and try to get him to talk it out, but I already know. And since that’s the last thing I want to discuss right now, I say nothing.
After what feels like a million years, we’re finally home. We haul all his gear up to the apartment with zero verbal interaction. Walker heads to the spare room and shuts the door. He doesn’t slam it this time, so I take that as a positive. Hopefully, he’ll play some video games and calm down. He just needs to work through it. That’s his way.
