“Look, you can talk about it with me if you want, but you can’t talk about me with everyone else, okay?” I say flatly to my mom.
My father shakes his head ruefully from his position at the kitchen table. “Kind of hard to talk about it with you when you don’t tell us about it.”
“Ashleigh…” I glance toward the living room and lower my voice. “Ashleigh doesn’t want more kids. She hates my job. She wants a husband that is home by six every night and spends weekends barbequing and gardening or whatever. That can’t be me. We all know that.”
They’re silent for a long minute. My mom looks so sad it’s devastating. My dad just looks disappointed.
“How is he doing?” my dad asks, nodding his head toward the living room.
“He’s doing better,” I say and look at Callie. “It’s helped to have Callie here. She fixed up his room and she helps me stay positive around him. She also makes sure we both eat properly.”
My parents turn to look at Callie, who looks suddenly uncomfortable with the attention. My mom takes her hand and gives it a grateful squeeze. She just shrugs. “Speaking of eating, I’ve got a chicken in the oven that should be big enough for all of us. And I was thinking mashed potatoes and some salad?”
“Sounds great.” My dad nods and smiles.
“I’ll just jump into the shower real quick,” she says, starting toward the hall.
“I’ll start the potatoes, honey,” my mom volunteers.
For a few tense moments I watch my mom gather the potatoes and putter around my kitchen. My dad is just staring at me. Finally I stand up. “Can you keep an eye on Con while I go upstairs for a second?”
My dad nods and I head into the hall and climb the stairs two at a time. I knock lightly on Callie’s door. She opens it in nothing but a towel—a small towel that barely skims the top of her thighs.
“Hey,” she says, her big brown eyes wide with innocence. “I didn’t tell them. I swear.”
“I know,” I say and sigh.
She opens her door a little wider and I step in. “I have never seen my dad look so disappointed in my entire fucking life.”
“Because you weren’t there when I told them Jessie moved to Arizona without saying good-bye,” she explains, her expression darkening at the memory. “As soon as the words left my mouth, your dad turned to where Jordan was sitting in your kitchen and gave him the exact same look. It was awesome back then. Now, not so much.”
I suddenly feel exhausted—and incredibly frustrated. I run a hand through my hair and let my body sag against the wall behind me. She tilts her head a little and gives me a concerned look. “If Wyatt knew what she did to you, he’d stop looking so disappointed.”
“Yeah, then he’d look at me with pity. I’ll take the disappointment,” I reply firmly.
“Do you need me to move out? I can grab a hotel,” she suggests suddenly. “After dinner I’ll pack up and they can stay here with you.”
I shake my head. “No. They can stay in the same hotel as Jordy’s team. It’ll be fine. I’d rather you were here than them right now. I can’t handle the stares.”
She just nods and pulls her hair out of its ponytail. I try not to focus on the hem of the towel as it lifts ever so slightly, revealing even more of her long, lean legs.
“Will you come with them to the game tomorrow night?” I ask, trying not to sound as desperate as I am. “I want you to keep them company and keep them from obsessing about this.”
“Of course.” She gives me a little snarky grin. “Can I wear your jersey and scream your name and make a sign that says ‘Garrison Can I Hold Your Stick?’”
I laugh at that. Genuinely laugh. It feels completely unnatural. “Is that a sex reference?”
“Yup! I saw some girl waving it in the stands at the last game of yours that I watched on TV,” she explains. “You really should look up in the stands every now and then. It would be good for your ego.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I smile softly and then decide to hug her.
I reach out and pull her into me. The fluffy blue towel is soft under my arms and as I bury my face in her neck, I inhale—she may have gone for a long, sweaty run but she somehow still smells good—something fruity and warm. She wraps her arms around my neck and holds on tightly.
We stay like that for a long moment. It feels so fucking good. When I feel a slight tingle in my pants, I realize it’s starting to feel too good and pull back. She looks flushed but I assume it’s still from her run.
“I meant what I said down there. You make this easier,” I tell her.
She smiles. “It’s because I’m awesome.”
