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“No, just eat,” Jayden says, rubbing his temples as he starts to eat.
“Be adults, guys. Come on.” Claire shakes her head with a grin on her face.
“Shut up, Claire,” we four say at the same time.
“What in the world are you four talking about?” Mom asks, but I look away and start to eat.
The thought of my mom dating is gross.
And the fact that it could be my coach makes it even grosser.
Silence falls over the table as my stomach churns. I don’t know why, but somewhere deep inside of me, I thought maybe my parents would get back together one day. I know it’s probably insane to think. I mean, not only does my mom deserve someone a hell of a lot better than my cheating father, but also, my dad has moved on. I know my mom needs to do the same, but it’s weird.
I don’t want to watch my mom date.
Especially my coach.
Ew.
“Heels or no heels?”
Mekena looks over at me from where she is doing her makeup and she smiles. I bet I look goofy with one sky-high black heel and a Converse on the other foot, but this is really an important question. Either shoe could go with my rolled at the ankle, tight, skinny jeans and flowy black top that hangs off me in the sexiest way. The black bralette I have on underneath covers the parts that need to be covered, but it doesn’t cover a lot. And I know it shows just enough to get guys to notice.
Well, one guy.
Lame Line Larry.
Which, really…I don’t know why I care to get him to notice. But by the way he was checking me out and basically drooling, I doubt I’ll have to try hard. He wants me and that’s cool. I’m down. He is hot…but he is not part of the plan. My plan was to come here, then get an internship, do well in school, get some gigs, make some friends, and have fun. The end goal is to write a hit song and sing it for millions. That’s my plan. I guess I could put him in the fun category, but something about the way those green eyes of his held mine has me thinking he could be more than just fun.
No. That can’t and won’t happen.
Nowhere in that plan does it say get involved with a dude who has a great body and hot eyes.
Nope.
But then, sex is fun, right?
Yes.
So sex, yes.
Involved, no.
I’m a genius.
Easy peasy.
Letting out a breath at my internal struggle, I’m actually thankful for it. Before I came to Nashville, I didn’t care about anything but getting here. I had spent so long just trying to be okay with the fact no one wanted me, that when the opportunity to leave came, it became my only goal. I didn’t try to attract guys anymore; I didn’t consider sex with anyone. But that’s mostly because no one wanted me. Having a brother like Matty Haverbrooke really didn’t give me that option. One, everyone was obsessed with him, and two, no one wanted to even try to holler at me for fear of him killing them.
Little did they know Matty wouldn’t have noticed or cared because I’m not a hockey stick or a frozen biscuit.
Nope, just his twin sister.
Nothing special.
“What are we going for here?” Mekena’s head falls to the side as she takes me in. She looks adorable in a little sundress, her pale skin glowing from the shimmer powder she’s doused herself in. Her long, black hair is up in a puff thing that looks amazing on her but would look dumb on me since my hair is so thin. Hers is luscious and thick, and I’m jealous. I am. She’s also tiny, short and skinny and crazy smart. She’s kind of a threat but super quiet, so no one pays her any mind. I do, though, and I think she’s awesome. Must be because no one pays me any mind either, unless I have blood dripping from my wrists.
You have to have a hockey stick and a dick to be important in the Haverbrooke household. Which really makes me wonder why I am trying to holler at this guy. He’s everything I don’t want or need right now. So why am I completely attracted to him and thinking about our interaction like mad?
