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“Hey, Bex,” Shannon lilts. “You have no idea how happy I am to see another woman right now.” She points the spatula in Jamie’s direction. “These guys have been giving me hell all morning.”
“No, we haven’t,” Jamie says.
“Yes, you have,” she challenges, with a smile. “There’s way too much testosterone in this kitchen right now.”
“If by giving you hell you mean admiring you from afar, then I guess I am.” Jamie licks his lips. “Turn around so I can admire you some more.”
She laughs at his stupidity, shaking off his comment, and glances at me. “See what I’ve been dealing with? Anyway, you hungry? I made enough bacon and sausage for you and Parker.”
I rub my stomach. “I can eat.”
Her face brightens. “What kind of eggs do you want?”
“Scrambled,” Preston and me say at the same time.
“Oh, look at you two,” Shannon says. “How cute? Pretty soon you’ll be finishing each other’s sentences.”
“Ah, no… we’re not together,” I spit out.
She looks at me, then Preston, and smiles. “Well, you should be.”
“Unwritten Coach rules,” Jamie says, and Preston looks as though he wants to choke him for mentioning it.
Because Preston knew that was between us. Except he didn’t keep his word.
“You told them?” Annoyed, I take a seat at the circular table in the corner of the kitchen.
“Yeah, sorry.” He pulls out a chair and slides it over until our legs are touching. “They’re like my brothers. None of them will say a word. I promise.” He says the last part staring into my eyes, and I believe him.
“What unwritten rules?” Shannon asks Jamie.
I let out a frustrated sigh and then give Preston the okay to inform Shannon of my father’s rules. Everyone in the room stares at me, and it’s super weird.
“Hmm…” Shannon says. “How come your dad has these rules? Did you hook up with one of his players or something?”
I look away from her for a second, considering my next words. Too many people are staring at me, this situation making me uncomfortable.
“Something like that,” I mutter.
“Really?” Preston chimes. “You never told me that.”
“It wasn’t anyone on his college team, so I didn’t think it was important.”
“Does he still play hockey?”
I nod.
“For a college team?”
I nod again.
Preston scrunches his nose. “Do I know him?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Yep.”
“And you’re not gonna tell me,” Preston says.
“Nope.”
“Can I at least get a hint? What team does he play for?”
“Why do you care, Parker? It’s not like we’re dating. We’re barely even friends.”
The entire room goes silent, all of them now looking at me in equal bewilderment as Preston. I reach out to touch his arm, and he sits back in his chair, dodging me.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to be so rude. I’m sorry, okay? I just don’t want to talk about it. Not now, anyway.”
“Did he hurt you?” He lowers his voice to a whisper and cups my knee in his big hands. “Because if he did, I will destroy him.”
How do I answer this question?
“Can we talk about this later? Maybe when no one else is around?”
Or never. That would be preferable.
He forces a smile for my benefit. “Sure. How about I feed you then walk you back to the dorms?”
“Sounds good. I have practice this afternoon.”
“Me, too. Your dad is all about us being on time.”
I return his smile. “He hates it when people are late.”
My dad also hates when people defy him. Like we did last night. Over and over again.
Preston drops his intrusion of my past. At least for now. It’s only a matter of time before I have to tell him about Kellan. And when he finds out the truth, he will lose his shit.
“Stop acting like Kobe and pass the ball, Bryant,” Coach Vaughn yells at me.
Whenever I hog the ball, my coach tells me that I’m living up to my last name and acting like Kobe Bryant. His comments make me laugh every time.
I shake my head and chuckle, dribbling the ball once more, before I pass it to Taylor. She catches the ball and palms it in her hands. She pivots her left foot, and then lowers her stance, leaning into the girl behind her. Making some room, Taylor bounces the ball. She twists her body in an awkward position as she spins, and then grabs hold of the ball again to make the layup. Our three-man team wins.
Coach Vaughn blows the whistle. “Okay, ladies, huddle up.”
We gather around him and await his next instruction. Sweat slides down my face and runs into my eyes. Using my jersey, I wipe my forehead and cheeks. The gym feels about a hundred degrees with how hard we’ve played today. Or maybe it’s the hangover kicking my ass. I’m probably sweating out the alcohol from last night.
“Bryant, you have to pass the ball this weekend. If you want to be a champion, you have to act like one.”
