“I—um. Tyler picked me up and brought me down to spend the night. But things—ended poorly.”
“I thought I told you to stay away from Tyler.”
“So you did, and now I’m listening.”
Gus’s stare narrowed, resting on Aulie’s face with an unrelenting sense of parental judgment.
“What?” Aulie tossed her hands up in exasperation, and Jack took a step back. He’d been on the sidelines of enough Desfleurs family conflicts to know not to interfere once they started. Gus loved Aulie more than anyone else in the world, but his protective side always clashed with Aulie’s fiercely independent streak.
At least that hadn’t changed.
“Nothing.” Gus shook his head. A muscle in his jaw flexed. “You’re growing up to be just like Mom. You know that, right?”
“I—um.” Aulie bit her lip and lowered her gaze to her toes, rubbing tiny circles over an old nail head encased in a clear coating on the floor. Aulie and Gus hadn’t seen their mother since Aulie was an infant, so whatever comparison Gus was making wasn’t a good one. “I promise I learned my lesson this time. No more falling in love, okay?”
Jack’s heart slowed, drumming against his chest in a melancholic rhythm he couldn’t explain.
“That’s not—” Gus scrubbed his hand over his face and suffocated a frustrated groan. “Forget it. You need a ride home?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Yeah, I can do that. And you can tell me why you’re wearing Jack’s clothes on the way there.”
With a swallow, Aulie’s eyes flicked to Jack’s face. Suddenly, she wasn’t a little terror to be avoided at all costs. Her frivolity was a mask for that heavy weight that still clung around her shoulders. Chawton Falls was over an hour away, and judging by Gus’s clipped tone, that would be a long, uncomfortable ride for Aulie.
“I can drive.” The offer fell out of Jack’s mouth before he had time to analyze the implications. He hadn’t been home in four years. Yet here he was, risking creating an awkward situation for himself because of his recently jumpstarted heart.
Aulie’s gaze shot up to meet his. “To Chawton Falls?”
He shrugged like this wasn’t a momentous action for him. Like he hadn’t avoided his hometown for so long for a reason. “I know the way. Do you guys actually trust that junker to get you back there?”
“No, not really. I don’t even trust it to start in this cold,” Gus sighed. He nodded to Jack’s bottle. “Have you been drinking?”
Aulie smirked. “I wouldn’t worry. Jack sprayed more of that than he drank.”
Damn her.
Heat rose to the tips of Jack’s ears, and he dipped his chin, ceding the fact.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind, Parker, that would be helpful.” Gus glanced at his room, his weary shoulders sagging with exhaustion. Having given up his hockey career during his senior year of high school, Gus was on an academic scholarship, and the pressure to perform for the future welfare of his family hung like a heavy cloud over his head. “Let’s go then, Alouette,come on.” He beckoned Aulie to approach him, wrapping his arm around her as he walked to the door.
Out of the eyesight of both Desfleurses, Jack allowed his entire being to deflate for half a second. Clueless about the Bro Code, he understood enough to know that his best friend’s little sister was a major penalty.
“Are you coming, Jack?” Aulie shot a glance over her shoulder with a single, dangerous dimple, and he swallowed down the tug, directing his thoughts to the neutral zone.God, he hated the neutral zone. But Gus was his teammate—metaphorically anyway, so that was where he’d have to stay.
“Right behind you,” he said, grabbing his keys and heading out the door.
“Seriously though, why are you wearing Jack’s sweatshirt? That one’s his favorite,” Gus asked, his breath escaping in wisps of vapor that spiraled through the night air.
“I may have lost a fight with a fountain, though the victor remains unclear at present.” A nervous titter escaped Aulie mixing with the shrieks wafting in from behind the house.
Jack raised his gaze to the moon, illuminated behind a sprouting branch.This isn’t the help I needed,he thought, before hurrying his pace to join Gus and Aulie. His hand raised to his chest again, and his palm drew errant circles where a new percussive rhythm thrummed.
Like. At. All.
But the upward tilt of his lips and the joke dancing on the tip of his tongue suggested otherwise. “She probably doesn’t want to gush about it, but she gave the fountain a run for its money.”
Gus’s steps halted. He narrowed his eyes at Jack. “Since when do you make dad jokes?”
