Page 89 of On His Team

I laugh, hunched over. “I thought you weren’t home.” I hold onto the counter and laugh out the emotion.

She has a bag on her shoulder. “Hawthorne?”

I stand straight. “What?”

Then I realize she doesn’t know I like Rowan. I can’t start acting weird.

She ties her hair up. “Benson asked me to come over. You always come, so I waited for you to get off work.”

My first instinct is no.

My second instinct is absolutely.

I can’t be weird.

“Yeah,” I say. “Give me ten minutes.”

Lucy looks at me, and I walk to the bathroom. I shower, put on new jeans, my clean hoodie, and throw my wet hair into a low bun.

I walk out with my bag. “Ready.”

“Your lotion smells good,” she says, and then we go.

Hawthorne is warm when we get there. Actually warm like they didn’t turn the heat off this morning. They left it on this time. Stanley is telling Blue what he needs to improve on the ice. Melly is listening and agreeing whenever Stanley puts him down. Benson is on the couch. He perks up when he sees Lucy. He’s such a simp for her.

Percy and Rowan are at the dining table. Percy has a book. Rowan has his laptop open in front of him and a pencil tucked behind one ear. The pencil is new. His hair’s a little grown out, dark in color, and healthy.

He looks up when Lucy and I walk in. His eyes find Lucy first. Then me. And they linger.

“Hey,” Lucy says.

Benson walks in. Lucy walks to Melly and starts talking.

I glance at the table. Rowan is still looking at me.

I lift my chin. “Hey.”

“What’s up, G?”

Normal. Completely normal. Great.

I keep my hoodie on even though it’s a little too warm in here.

Stanley looks over from the kitchen. “G, tell Golding the way through anger is better control.”

I look at Blue. He’s leaning against the counter with his arms folded, already annoyed by the fact that Stanley has apparently dragged him into a conversation he did not ask to be in.

I nod once. “He’s right.”

Stanley points at me triumphantly. “Thank you.”

“But who are you to talk about self-control?”

The room goes quiet for half a second. Then Benson starts laughing.

Stanley looks genuinely hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I shake my head. “You have the least amount of self-control of anyone in this house.”