“Well, she’s definitely my favorite,” my Uncle Nico says, walking over to me and I give him a side hug. “How are you doing?”
“Well, since I left you yesterday, I hopped on a plane and went to Sunday service with the Pope,” I joke with him, feeling eyes on me. “He sends his love.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “That’s good to know.” He drops his hand from around my arm. “Thank you for making me laugh when all I want to do is throttle Phoenix.” He mentions his son, who I think plays for Nashville now, but I could be wrong.
“Ohh, what did he do?”
“I’m trying to get him to come play for Dallas and he’s rejecting my deal,” he hisses, mentioning the team he has owned since his father gifted it to him as a joke. The Oilers were at the bottom of the standings, and he took over, becoming the youngest owner in the history of the NHL, and he clawed his way to the top.
“Could be worse.” I smirk. “He could have had a one-night stand with your best friend’s daughter and got her pregnant.” I wink at him as he shakes his head.
“I mean, it could be that,” he replies to me as I make it around the room, saying hello to my mother first.
“I guess we know who your favorite is,” I tease her as she stands next to Jaxon.
“I love you all the same,” she assures me, and I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I mumble, “but you do more for him.” I say hello to my Aunt Becca, who stands beside my uncle now, his hand around her shoulder; her hand folding up to link their fingers together.
“I was with him the longest,” she snaps, making me and Jaxon burst out laughing, and then he kisses her cheek.
“Where is my nephew?” I ask, looking around and not seeing Ariella, but seeing Zane standing there next to my father. “Hi,” I say, holding up my hand, “nice to see you again.”
“Zane.” He points to his chest, and I stupidly picture him without his shirt on.
“Yeah, I heard.” I try not to smile at his joke. “Good news is, now that I know, there is no need for you to wear a name tag.” I turn to the side as I hear Ariella.
“Is that your Auntie TT?” she says and Zane is momentarily forgotten as Jagger enters the room.
“There’s my man.” I hold out my hands and he runs into them as I swing him up and around.
“He just ate,” Jaxon warns, “so unless you want him to yack all over you?—”
“He would never,” I reassure him, kissing his neck. “Would you vomit on me?”
“He loves me a bit more than you, and he threw up in my mouth once,” Jaxon shares and I shake my head.
I feel Zane’s eyes on me and when I look over, I see him staring at me. I quickly look away from him, kissing Jagger’s head. “Do you want to go and play with your toys?” I ask him, moving out of the kitchen because my heart is beating even faster than normal. I try to swallow down the lump and then nervously put Jagger down in the living room next to his toys.
“Let’s eat,” Jaxon urges and I make my way to the table, trying to be as far away from Zane as I can, but everyone pairs up and it leaves me right beside him at the end of the table, next to Ariella.
I focus on the plate in front of me, eating maybe five or six bites before putting my fork down. I put one arm on the table and then hold my chin with the other as I take in the conversation around me. But all I can do is focus on the fact that his arm is practically touching mine.
I push away from the table. “Jagger, want to come with me and play?” I ask, looking at him in his highchair as he tries to escape. I pull him out of it, walking over to the sink to wash his hands and his face. “There, now let’s go play with the ball.”
“Ball,” he says to me, “ball.”
“Yeah, ball,” I say, walking into the living room with him. “Where is the ball?” He walks over to the basket in the corner with his balls as he picks up the red one. “The red ball,” I say, feeling Zane’s presence nearby. “Where is the stick?” I ask him of his little plastic hockey stick. “Bring Auntie TT a stick,” I tell him. He walks back and drags a second stick behind him as he hands it to me when he makes it to me. “Thank you.” I walk to get a ball and use the small stick to hit it to him. He walks behind the ball and swings at it and the ball goes flying to the kitchen, hitting Zane on the leg.
“Good shot.” Zane gets up and picks up the ball before walking it over to Jagger. Squatting down in front of him, Zane’s holding the ball in his hand, his big hand holding the ball. “Here is your ball,” he offers to him and then looks over at me. “You going to hit it again?” he asks Jagger. I’m expecting him to leave and go back to the table, but he just stays there squatting beside him.
He gets up and goes behind Jagger, holding his hand under his as he moves the stick back and then forward, hitting the ball, making Jagger shriek and put his hand in the air. Zane laughs at him as my mother gets up from the table.
“Who wants ice cream?” she asks, her eyes directly on Jagger. He drops the stick like it’s a hot potato before running away from Zane and me. I shake my head and walk over to the basket, putting my stick in it. I avoid looking at him as the gang starts to clean up the table. I have never felt so nervous around anyone before and I hate how off-kilter he makes me feel.
I turn, grab two plates off the table, and walk to the kitchen, putting them on the island, where my Aunt Becca is rinsing them off before placing them in the dishwasher. I go back to the table as I see the guys still sitting around the table. Pulling my chair out and listening to the conversation in front of me.
“When the team is united and on the same page,” Zane says, looking over at Jaxon, “they are almost unstoppable.”
