Oh Jesus.
I yank the bag of popcorn out of Emmett’s grasp and thrust it in front of my sister’s face. “Want some popcorn?”
She turns to me with a confused frown.
“I-It might be a while before dinner,” I stammer. “Are you hungry?”
She takes the bag from me, answering absently. “Sure.” She looks back, searching, I know, for Number Seven, but in the frenzy of activity on the field, no one person is easy to spot.
Don’t look for him. I’m not ready to have The Curse Talk with you just yet.
“Did you finish your homework?” I ask, my voice blaring.
Mattie’s face when she looks at me is one of keen irritation. “God, why are you shouting? Are you okay, Millie?”
No, not really,I want to tell her.Take your eyes of the cutie on the field, and I’ll be fine.
Instead, I nod. “Yeah...You just made a big deal about finishing your work, so I’m curious. Did you?”
She rolls her eyes at me and tosses her chestnut hair over her shoulders. “I finished math, but I still have to study Spanish.”
I swear, every muscle in my body tenses when she says this, and from my peripheral vision I catch the guy in front of me react ever so slightly. He’s heard her. He’s listening. His eyes might be on the game, but his ear is angled just a little more in our direction, the line of his shoulders taut and alert.
Why did she have to take Spanish? Why couldn’t Mattie have picked French like Harry and I did?
“I can help you study after piano,” I say in a rush, ready to change the subject.
My sister’s lip curls like she smells something off. “But you don’t speak Spanish.”
And I know I’m not imagining things. Mr. Dark, Scarred & Chiseled chuckles at this. He doesn’t make any noise, but those shoulders—broad and impressively muscled though they are—bounce with silent amusement.
He’s laughing. At me.
I ignore the rush of heat this delivers to my cheeks. It doesn’t matter if this cute guy is laughing at my expense. Sister Mildred does not care about such things. I clear my throat and try to sound as confident as ever. “I can still quiz you. Call out vocabulary words or something.”
Mattie just shrugs, and her eyes drift back to the game. And no sooner does she do that then Number Seven breaks away from the cluster of players, the ball clearly under his command, and makes a bold kick toward the goal. It’s blocked, but the crowd still roars, electric with the near miss.
“Good push,hermano,” the guy in front of me yells. “Keep ‘em on their toes!”
And before I can stop him, Emmett leans forward and shakes him by the shoulder. “Hey, your brother’s name isHermano?”
Three things happen at once. My stomach forms a cement ball. Mattie snorts a laugh. And the guy twists around, hitting me with a smile that is so beautiful I feel the absurd urge to cry. In a nanosecond, my brain catalogues every nuance of its radiance. The natural rose of his lips. The hint of dimples there on his cheeks. The white of his teeth, which are almost perfect except for the one lateral incisor. The left one on the bottom. It’s just a little crooked, leaning against the central incisor like a tipsy friend after a night of clubbing.
Stop it. You’re making up stories about his teeth. Look away!I scold myself and then scold Emmett.
“Buddy, let the man watch the game.”
“It’s all right,” the guy says with a shake of his head, his eyes moving from me to Emmett. “His name is Alex.Hermanomeans brother.”
It’s faint, but his words hum with an accent. The hum tickles the back of my neck. I lift a hand to sweep away the sensation, then grab the popcorn from Mattie and thrust it back at Emmett. “Want more popcorn?”
But my brother just ignores me. “Alex? I think Harry’s talked about him.”
“He has,” Mattie adds in a gauzy tone I’ve never heard from her. My gaze whips to her to find her staring onto the soccer field looking drugged, a slow smile lifting the corners of her mouth.
Oh shit.
I need Emmett to stop talking to this guy and Mattie to stop mooning over his brother, but I realize that’s not going to happen when the woman beside him—not the ancient one, but the other one—swivels around too. One look at her eyes, and I’m sure she’s his mother.
