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“Apparently, you’re coming to dinner with the family tonight.” The look on her face is one I wish I could frame—shock and surprise, fear and horror, delight and hope all blended together, but I can see each emotion as it treks across her face. I know her last dinner with the whole gang wasn’t the best, so hopefully, this one will be better. “Mama Louise saw the whole thing yesterday, along with the whole family who was there for the first game. Brody’s been running interference for me, especially with Shayanne, but if I don’t show for dinner tonight, along with you and Cooper, he won’t be able to stop her.”
Allyson laughs lightly. “You sound scared. Of Mama Louise? I mean, she’s this tiny little thing. I’ve seen her mom glare, and it’s on-point, but I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say she’s scary. Or are you terrified of your baby sister?”
I take a slug of orange juice and talk around my mouthful of pancakes. “You’d be surprised by how scary both of them can be.”
I’m saved by having to confess to any more male ego-crushing facts by a knock on the door.
“That’ll be Michelle with Cooper,” Allyson says as she passes me. Well, as she tries to. I grab her arm and spin her into my lap as she hoots, but when I cup her cheek, the surprise turns sweet with her smile. “What?”
“Just wanted one more kiss before Cooper comes in because I get the feeling he’s a cockblocker.” She laughs, and I swallow the sound as I meld my lips over hers.
She presses lightly at my chest and I let her go. She heads to the door looking a bit flushed and a lot happy. That’s my girl.
Cooper comes in like a whirlwind with Michelle following behind, looking curious. I think her plan is to read the room and go from there, either eviscerating me or celebrating that we’ve got our shit straight. I’m glad it’s the latter.
“Coach B, are you still gonna coach us?” Cooper looks mad as hell, so much fury in his tiny fists, and the words are his little-boy version of a growl. It’s fucking adorable. I make a note to remind myself of how cute I find it now because I suspect it won’t be nearly as endearing when he’s a pissy teenager. Hopefully, he’ll still be into football. I know how to steer that aggression from personal experience.
Allyson jumps in to answer her son. “Of course he is.” But she pauses at the anger she sees in his eyes. “Uh, do you want him to?”
I give her credit for not asking in a leading fashion but rather in a way that says she’s open to whatever he thinks and feels. She’s a damn good mom.
Cooper walks over to me, meeting my eyes man to man. “Liam and Ms. Michelle told me what happened after Mom and me left. Did you really beat up Killian’s dad?” His little lips are puffed out, but he doesn’t seem to be pouting, more like he’s got so many words in his mouth, he doesn’t know how to get them all out.
I lay a hand on his shoulder, careful to be gentle with the kid. “I did. I’m not proud of it, and fighting should never be the first resort. It’s the last resort after using your words. Killian’s dad . . .”
I pause, trying to figure out how to say he’s a drunk with an asshole streak in a kid-friendly way. “Well, he wasn’t thinking very clearly so he said some mean things. I tried to talk to him, your mom tried to talk to him, the referee tried to talk to him, but he wasn’t listening. He threw the first punch . . . which sounds like a stupid excuse but is important. You don’t start shit, but you can finish it, especially if someone’s in danger.”
I realize a beat too late that while I censored myself about Kyle, I cursed in front of the kid. Not cool, asshole, I tell myself. But no one even reacts. I still need to be more careful in front of Cooper, though. Mama Louise will be proud, probably a bit shocked, too, if I can clean up my foul mouth, and it’s definitely the better choice if I’m going to be hanging out with pipsqueaks all the time.
He nods sagely like my fucked-up wisdom means something to him. “Like my mom.” He turns to look at her and I mirror the action. Her cheeks are pink from watching the interaction between us. One side is just slightly redder, but there’s no purple hint, no bruise coloring. “He hit you.”
Allyson nods. “He did. Killian’s dad didn’t mean to hit me. He was aiming for Bruce and it was an accident. But it was wrong. I’m okay, though, unless you wanna kiss it better? I’ll totally take a boo-boo fixer kiss.” She smiles over-exaggeratingly as she points at the affected cheek.
