She chuckles softly. “I know, but still.”
“Brielle, my sister, and your mom are hysterical. They go on and on about that class you teach,” my father mentions.
“Ballet barre? They come every week, work up a sweat, then hit Jolly Joe’s right after class for cake. Balance, I guess.” Hadley can’t help but gush because she loves her mom, and well, probably loves my mom also, then add my aunt to that list too. In return, they have her on a pedestal of greatness.
“Brielle keeps asking me to check out her toned body,” my father reflects.
I cringe at the thought. “Get it together,” I mutter. “None of us want to know what you and Mom get up to.”
“Passion doesn’t die, Son.” He chuckles at me then turns his attention back to the thorn in my side. “Grabbing lunch, Hadley?”
“Yeah, I’m just meeting Isla for a quick bite then heading back to the dance studio. I’m teaching a group of eighty-year-olds this afternoon.”
Uncle Declan interjects and speaks to me. “See? Work ethic and helping the senior population. You could learn a lesson or two from her.”
I scoff a laugh. “Trust me, I’m sure underneath her heart of gold, her mouth spits out wicked things.” It flies off my mouth too easily.
The men at the table stare at me blankly, and Hadley’s eyes snap to me with distaste apparent on her face; I know because I glance up to catch her soft lips form a tight line. She may be an elegant ballerina that teaches dance in our little town, but her eyes have a tint of wildness, the type that can make a man come undone if he isn’t careful. She’s always been the ballerina who dances with her hair down to Guns ‘n’ Roses. And her dark polished nails? They dig into skin as if she doesn’t want to let go. But that’s our little secret, one she wishes we didn’t share.
One of the men sitting across from me clears their throat, attempting to break the stiff tension now gracing our table.
Hadley throws on a smile for their benefit. “I hope you both enjoy your lunch despite sitting with this menace. See you around.”
“Yeah, he is special, this one.” My father flashes me an over-the-top grin before turning back to my nemesis. “Oh, and thanks for babysitting the boys last weekend,” my father remarks.
“Maybe we can add babysitting my nephew here. I’ll pay extra,” my uncle adds.
“There isn’t enough money in the world for that,” she states dryly before walking away. She’s right too. Because she hates me, and hell knows, I've given her a bucketful of reasons, which is why she’ll never change her mind.
My relatives have the audacity to chuckle at her comment, which causes me to give them an unimpressed look.
My father smiles. “You two are always the same. Ever since you were kids. Not sure why. I mean, she had the world’s biggest crush on you.”
“And?” I can’t care.
“Grow some maturity is what your dad is saying. You may actually realize that she is quite a joy to be around, and you’ve just been flirting with her,” my uncle has the audacity to casually mention before he looks at his phone.
My face stays blank. “I’m not flirting.”
“Thank God. Spencer would kill you.” My dad is only half-joking. Spencer, Hadley’s dad, probably would. I’m like 90% certain that he might hate me due to my wild teenage years or the fact he doesn’t like the idea of any guy around his princess… and I don’t mind one bit.
Ignoring what they say, my eyes scan the room and land on Hadley with her friend Isla sitting at a table. Internally, fear forms that Isla is inviting Hadley to Vegas. These are the hazards of Isla hanging with the team, since her older brother is our winger and my best friend.
Why the fuck does Hadley have to be a vision? Even when she’s wearing an oversized shirt that falls off the curve of her shoulder, then she’s in those tight little dance pants, and I bet she’s sporting a leotard underneath too. Nobody knows how she gets under my skin or how in another life she deserves to be my queen.
“Vegas, Connor. Best behavior,” my uncle grits out as a reminder.
Memo received.
“What happens there, stays there.” I turn my attention to him with an overdone smile.
“Connor,” my father warns.
“Relax.” I humor them, or maybe I consider their concerns… for a second.
I haven’t decided because my eyes flick briefly back to Hadley, the delicate flower with a feisty tongue who is tucking a lock of loose hair behind her ear while the waiter flirts with her. I bet he would never be able to make her scowl the way I do.
My eyes pin on my uncle and father. “I hear your advice loud and clear, and I’ll follow itafterVegas,” I promise.
