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“Watch your mouth, Bellamy,” I warn her.
“Why are you hiding it? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“It’s complicated,” I admit. Because really... what else am I going to say?
“Do you care about her?” she asks, and I can’t tell if she thinks I’m fucking this up or not.
“It’s not that simple, B.”
“It really is, A. You don’t hide the people who matter. You stand next to them, loud and proud. If you’ve got to hide them, there’s something wrong with your relationship.” She stands and slams my phone against my chest. “And here’s the thing, big brother. I know you. You’re a pain in the ass. You’re a serial procrastinator. And you’re a shitty fucking cook. But you’ve got a heart of gold. And you refuse to lie. So from what I’ve seen this summer, I’m going to take a guess and say you’re in love with good twin, and you’re going along with what she wants. Because I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t hide someone you love. What I can’t figure out is why wouldshe?”
She pats my chest where she just slammed my phone and takes a few steps before she turns back around. “She’s making you a liar, A. You’re a lot of things. But you’re not a liar.” With that, she disappears down the hall.
I make my way to my room, then drop on my bed and call my mom.
She answers right away, “Hey, Ares.”
“Hey, Momma. I’m sorry I didn’t answer when you called. I left my phone here when I went out earlier. You doing okay?”
“I’m okay, honey. Dad’s gonna be okay too. Did Bellamy tell you that? I told her to make sure she didn’t worry you. I’d be honest if it was a big deal.”
“I know you would, Momma. I just felt like shit that you called and I missed it.” I lie back and kick my shoes off. “How pissed is Dad?”
“Oh, he’s pissed. It’s outpatient surgery, but because we came in so late, they’re making him stay the night. They were able to squeeze him in for tomorrow, but not until one in the afternoon.”
“Ohh,” I groan, remembering what a big, fat baby he was the last time he had surgery. “Can he eat before that?”
“Not a thing.” She sighs.
“You gonna be in the room with him in the morning while he’s bitching that he’s hungry?”
“Oh, son. He’s my husband. I’m not going to leave his side. Then when I bring him home tomorrow night, I’m going to torture him for days over what a baby he was. It’s what marriage is all about.”
We both get quiet for a minute. “You want to tell me where you were tonight without your phone?” she asks.
When I don’t answer, she doesn’t push.
“I hope she’s a good girl, honey. You deserve a good girl.”
I can feel my smile stretching. “She’s a good girl, Mom. You’ll love her.”
“If you love her, I’ll love her too, honey. Now go to bed. I’ve got to get some sleep before I have to be back at the hospital tomorrow. I love you.”
“Love you too, Momma.” We end the call, and I close my eyes. I’m officially over this fucking night.
“Dude, pay attention,” Cross yells across the ice, and my head snaps up just before Nixon steals the puck.
“Fuck.”
“What the hell is your problem, Wilder?” Easton yanks his helmet off and squirts his water into his mouth. “You’ve been slow as shit out there today.”
“Maybe he’s cranky because he hasn’t been sleeping in his own bed,” Nixon offers up like a fucking little douchebag, and I fight the urge to tell him that’s because I’m sleeping in his sister’s bed.
An urge that’s getting harder to fight, the longer Grace has been home.
And after my shit show of a night—morning—whatever the fuck it was—I’m thinking we’re due for a discussion tonight.
“Whose bed you been sleeping in, Goldilocks?” Easton asks, and if I could skate off the ice without looking like a little bitch, I would. I’m too tired for this shit.
