Leaning down, I pick up my bag, then we all start moving toward our cars. Lyla and Calvin get in with me, and we make the quick drive back to my place.
“Okay, pizza is ordered,” Calvin says as we pull into the drive.
“Sounds good,” I tell him.
“Thank you for ordering dinner,” Lyla says as we all get out of the car.
“It’s no problem.” Calvin shrugs.
Once inside, we quickly pick up and put shit away that we don’t want others to fuck with.
Thirty minutes later, people start to filter in right as the pizza arrives. Lyla and I follow the pizza into the kitchen. When she goes to sit next to me, I pull her into my lap. Cora and Kellan sit the same way across from us as we all dig in.
“Seriously, you guys played fucking amazing tonight. My brother is going to be so jealous of the season you’re having,” Cora says as she takes a bite of pizza.
“Your brother plays for a professional hockey team. He’s not going to get jealous of what we’re doing in college,” Calvin protests.
“You don’t know him very well then,” Kellan says.
Calvin turns toward me. “Back me up.”
I shake my head. “No, there are two things that Clayton James loves: winning and Grace.”
“And tonight, they lost,” Cora chimes in.
“That sucks,” Lyla murmurs.
“The team he’s on is going through some changes. They will figure it out,” Kellan says.
“Keg’s here!” someone yells.
Lyla turns, wide-eyed. “There’s a keg?”
“Of course there’s a keg. It’s a college party,” someone says as they walk past.
“Yeah, but how did you guys get a keg so fast? Don’t you usually have to order them in advance?” she asks.
“Baby, hockey is life around here. If we ask for something, people deliver. No questions asked, and that’s not me being cocky, that’s just facts,” I tell her quietly.
She shakes her head. “You guys really are a different breed.”
“And don’t you forget it.” I wink.
“I’m getting a drink. Do you want one, Lyla?” Cora asks as she stands.
Lyla nibbles on her bottom lip, indecision all over her face.
“You don’t have to have one if you don’t want one,” I tell her quietly.
She shakes her head. “I don’t have a problem with drinking. It just sucks being hungover and having to deal with Dad.”
“It’s up to you, but if you only have one or two, you should be okay. If you have more though, I can always come over and help out tomorrow,” I point out gently.
“You would do that?” she asks softly.
“Of course. I will always be there for you.”
“You know what? Why not? I’ll have one,” Lyla says loud enough for Cora to hear, but her eyes don’t leave mine.
