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I smile at his devious plan, though I doubt Matt will ever notice. He’s clueless, and I don’t want Ivy finding the evidence of tonight. But I’ll let Cutter have his way until he falls asleep, then I’ll sneak out here like him and play cleaning fairy.
18/
cutter
Laney’s been puttingoff this call with her mom for three days, but I’ve finally convinced her to suck it up and take the first step. It’s hard for me to totally understand the strained relationship she has with her parents because it’s so opposite of what I experienced growing up. Even now, when my mom is not at her strongest by far, she’s still the one person I know I can call and count on.
Well, maybe not the only person. I’m starting to feel more like Laney is one of those people, too. My person. I need to find the right time, the right way, the right place to tell her that. Laney requires impeccable timing.
“Okay, I’ve done it. First stone cast,” she says, walking back into the bedroom with a proud look and her phone in her palm.
“Uh, not sure casting a stone is the right reference for an apology, but I’m glad you were able to talk to your mom. Do you want to talk about it?” I’ve also learned that Laney does want to talk about hard things, but she likes to leak them out slowly until she’s ready to gush.
“I left a message. It went fine. She’ll call back. That’s about it.”
It’s not, but the rest will come in due time.
“Okay, well, are you ready?” I ask.
Laney tugs on the hem of her warm-up jersey and shrugs.
“I mean, yeah. I’m dressed for game day and I think we’re going to kick Midwestern’s ass today. But am I ready for everything after the game? Uh . . .” Nervous laughter spills from her lips, so I bring her into a hug.
My family decided to come up a little early, likely thanks to the twins and their big mouths. They did a little sleuthing and found out Laney had a home game the day before mine, which means they can scope out their own evidence in this whole Caney-ship thing they’ve become obsessed with. Maybe I’m a little obsessed with it to now. Sure feels a lot easier to let my brothers make the case to Laney for me, though I’m not entirely sure they’ll be the best at selling my positive attributes. They did spend most of their lives sitting on me and poking grass up my nose until I said they were the best hockey players.
I always took it back when I got away.
Laney grabs her gear, and rather than let her continue to spiral internally I decide to swoop her up over my shoulder and carry her out to the Jeep in a rush. When it evokes her perfect raspy laugh I know it was the right move. I know she wants to get there early, but I also know that over-thinking meeting my family after her game, and I don’t want anything distracting her when she steps on the court.
Still giggling in my arms, I swing her around and then back her up to the Jeep’s hood to set her on top so I can step in between her knees. Her giggling subsides, and her hands land on my shoulders as I snuggle in between her legs and rest my hands on her hips.
“Listen,” I say. Her eyes snap to mine and she sucks in her top lip.
“I don’t want you to think about anything other than putting that ball down for the next four hours. My family? We’re easy. Soput us off to the side for a little while and be selfish, think about you and your goals and that’s all you need to focus on.”
She nods but a short laugh slips through her tight lips.
“That’s easier said than done,” she admits.
I nod.
“I know. But I’m serious. I can pretty much guarantee that they will all be wearing matching hoodies because that’s how we roll. McCreary’s don’t care about judgment or opinions, and they are not looking to impress anyone or be impressed. The only thing that matters to us is that people are real, and you, Laney Price, are the realest person I’ve ever met. There’s no mincing words with you. You’re direct. You know what you want. You fight for it. And you are going to show the world what a versatile badass you are today.”
Her mouth ticks up on one side and she drops her hands to the strings of my hoodie, tugging me in for a kiss. Her lips land on mine with a sweet stillness until they spread into a wide smile against me. Our foreheads rest on one another as she grabs two fistfuls of my hoodie and gives the material a gentle shake.
“So is this the sweatshirt then?”
I lean back and quirk a brow.
“The one you all will be wearing so you look like you just rolled off of Family Feud?”
I lean back with a belly laugh then stand straight and drop my chin to read the blue lettering on my Tiff sweatshirt. I shake my head then help her slide off from the hood.
“No, I don’t match the rest of them. One of us has to lead,” I joke.
She rolls her eyes, but I know at that moment her mind is right. The edge has been taken off. And my brothers are going to be so fucking jealous.
We get to the school in half the time it usually takes, probably because most of the classes are done and the parking lots arecleared. I feel bad for poking fun of the volleyball attendance before, but it’s true that it doesn’t draw nearly the crowds that we do, or basketball for that matter. It’s too bad because, honestly, our women’s volleyball is about as close to Olympic level as one can get without having to fork over a few hundred dollars to sit in the nosebleeds.
