“I’ll let you away with grunting at me today. But you’re going to have to give in and talk to me if you want me to read to you again tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 20
Penelope
It’s been three days.
Three days of bedtime stories, three days of me calling him and talking to him until he sleeps, three days of wishing he’d just let me visit.
Well, not anymore.
If he wants me to read to him tonight, he’s going to have to open this damn door and let me inside.
There’s two boxes in my hands, each containing a dozen donuts for the team—gotta pay the entry toll and keep them sweet. I have homemade shakes, juices, and store bought ice cream in a cool bag over my shoulder, and board games and books in the bag at my feet.
I know depression when I see it, or don’t see it because the depressed person is hiding—ask me how I know—and this boy is depressed.
My knock on the door to the hockey house is kind of muffled, but there’s movement shuffling on the other side, and after a moment Apollo de la Peña opens it.
He and his brothers are known to own very lavish residences across town, so it’s sweet that he’s here. I bet I know why. He’s team captain, the wellbeing of his team is of importance to him.
He looks tired, pale, and has dark circles underlining his eyes as he hones in on the boxes of donuts in my hands. “Are you trying to poison all of us with mustard now?”
I roll my lips between my teeth, shaking my head. “Heard about that, huh?”
“Sí. And we saw the car.” He bends down to grab the bag on the ground before stepping back and ushering me inside. “Remind me never to piss you off.” He winks at me.
“The donuts are clean.” Not sure he’s going to believe my assurance, but I had to say it all the same. “We have a truce in place for the time being since he went and got his face smashed in ‘cause he’s scared of me.”
Apollo chuckles, puts the bag on the ground and takes the donuts from me. “Let me go put these in the kitchen.”
“Oh. This too, please.” I slide the cool bag off my back, pausing to grab one of the smoothies out of there to bring up to Tate and make him eat.
Apollo’s clearly impressed. “Homemade? Myers must be special.” He winks, and part of me wants the ground to swallow me up.
When he returns, he picks the bag up again and gestures to the stairs. “You know which room he’s in?”
I shake my head.
“Follow me.” After a few steps he stops, turns back, and purses his lips. “You are here for Tate, right? You’re not here for someone else?” The concern on his face is adorable. What’s he afraid of? That Tate will find out I’m here to visit someone else on the team and what? Lose his shit?
That’s kinda hot. And for a moment it’s just a little tempting, but considering Tate’s current mood, someone would definitely die, and that’s not the vibe I’m going for.
“I’m here to see Tate, yes. One of you is enough of a headache.”
He laughs again. “You’re not wrong. We’re pretty high maintenance.” When we get to the top of the stairs I follow him down a corridor, pausing outside a white door that looks the same as all the other white doors on this floor.
“He’s pissier than he was yesterday. I’m not sure what to do.”
I give him my best reassuring smile. “I’ll see what I can do.” With a soft knock from the hand holding the smoothie, I turn his bedroom door with the other. I’m not waiting for him to say no.
From the dark shape on the bed facing away from me, there’s a feral growl. My dude is in for a rude awakening when he realizes that I can growl too. I flip on the light, and he groans.
“Quit your bitchin’” I make my way around to his side of the bed, but he’s already sitting up. Ugh. My dude also smells. This is worse than I thought. “Right. You’re going to get your ass out of bed and into the shower, I’m going to change your sheets while you’re washing because I think your funk has seeped through into the wooden frame of this bed.”
He scowls at me.
“Then you’re going to have some of this delicious protein and fruit smoothie that I made myself, might I add. Like by my own freakin’ hand. I did some research at school about what kinds of things might keep you from losing weight, and I made a bunch of them. They’re downstairs in the fridge, and when they’re gone, I can make more.”
