I look up and see Nash Westwood in a Quake tracksuit, dirty blond head tipped downward focused on his phone. He's wearing dark-framed glasses, which makes me wonder if Crew has glasses. "You hung out with him just fine in Vegas," I remind my cousin.
“I was drunk,” she mutters. “I do a lot of stupid things when I’m drunk. By the way, I’m doing dry September. And probably October.”
“Is that a thing? I thought it was January,” Harlow asks.
“Apparently Tenley doesn’t want to accidentally party with hot but nerdy hockey players anymore,” Shelby says and smirks. “Because Tenley is an idiot.”
Nash looks up before anyone can say another word and his hazel eyes lock on Tenley and he looks… annoyed. “Can I talk to you?”
He doesn’t even acknowledge the rest of us, which seems weird. I’ve heard he’s quite the good guy, all manners and best behavior. “I’d love to, but I want to stay awake during the game and you always put me to sleep.”
“Ouch!” Harlow stage whispers.
Shelby pretends not to be listening, her big blue eyes darting around the hallway for something, anything, to focus on besides Tenley and her mean-girl attitude. Nash's stubbled cheeks start to redden.
"Hey Nash. I'm Liv," I say and now they're all staring at me in awe because, I admit, I'm not the one to jump into a tense situation. Or any situation. I shove out my hand despite the mild panic that's started pumping through my veins along with my blood. "I'm Tenley's cousin. Tate's too. I'm Conner Garrison's sister. Anyway hi. I hope you guys have another great season."
“I know who you are,” He extends his hand and his smile is tight but friendly. He yanks his eyes from Tenley. “I’m happy to finally meet you. Your family adores you and I can see why. Unlike your cousin here, you seem to be nice and normal. And thanks about the season. I guess I should be going.”
“No need. We’re going,” Tenley says and starts storming down the hall. I scurry after her.
Shelby and Harlow wave at Nash as they bustle past. “Jesus, Ten. Did he piss in your Corn Flakes or something? I mean, I get the whole ice princess mean girl thing works for you, but that was a little much. He’s a family friend.”
"He and Crew never came to any of our summer hockey gatherings," Tenley retorts. She's right. When their dad retired they moved back to his hometown in Canada and the twins were in hockey camps all summer long. "And for the record, he was an absolute dick to me in Vegas. He's not at all the sweet, adorkable guy he pretends to be."
Oh. Well… this is news. She hasn’t brought it up.
“What did he do?”
“I don’t want to get into it. But I’ve warned you all.” Tenley has her eyes glued to the ground and is fussing with her hair. Everything about her right now is self-conscious and out of character. “He’s a dick. Now let’s talk about something else. Hey! Tater Tot!”
She yells her brother's nickname and we all look down the hall to see him wandering over in the same tracksuit Nash was wearing.
"You have to stop calling me that in public." Tate rolls his big aquamarine eyes and frowns at his sister. Tenley grins in return and spins so he can see the back of her Quake jersey. Harlow moves to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Tenley and turns as well so he can see that they both have his number. But across the shoulders where his last name would normally be stitched, Tenley has the word Tater and Harlow has the word Tot.
His eyes get wider and his frown gets deeper. His eyes move to me and Shelby and the Quake logo on the front of our jerseys. "Please tell me you two didn't participate in my sister's slanderous prank."
“Guilty.” Shelby turns so he can see the Tater on her shoulders. She grabs my arm and spins me too.
“Sorry! I told them we shouldn’t do it,” I tell Tate and he sighs.
“I am never giving you guys tickets again. Traitors.”
“It’s a cute nickname, Tater Tot,” Mallory says as she walks out of the VIP lounge doors across the hall. “Right Dyllie Bear? Tell Dada his nickname is cute.”
“Dada! Dada Dada!” Dylan claps and kicks his feet on Mallory’s hip. She beams and Tate’s frown melts. They both love this kid so much.
Tate reaches out and plucks his son from Mallory, giving him a big kiss on the cheek as he squeals in delight. No one had Tate producing the first grandchild on their bingo card, but honestly, it couldn’t be more perfect. He needed something to tether him and he also needed Mallory Echolls. She needed him too. They’re a perfect pair and she is the perfect second mom to Dylan.
“Dyllie Bear!” I walk over and he immediately extends his arms.
“I can’t tell you how amazing it is to know he’s going to be with you four days a week,” Tate says as he hands his son to me. “He loves that little guitar you got him this summer. Never puts it down.”
“There’s a ton of other musical instruments I can get him,” I say. “All specially made for kids.”
“Make an Amazon Wishlist and I will buy them,” Tate promises. “I have to get into the locker room and get ready. Take those ridiculous shirts off.”
"Never!" Tenley announces loudly as Tate kisses Mallory, waves goodbye to his son, and disappears into the locker room, which is the first door on the left side of the hallway almost directly across from the VIP lounge.
