Chapter One - Mirabelle
CHAPTER ONE
Mirabelle
“BAILEY! YOU CUT me off,” I yell after my seventeen-year-old brother, wading through the water as I carry my surfboard under my arm.
He flips his shoulder length blond hair back, shooting me an infuriating grin over his shoulder. “Try paddling faster next time. I thought you were an Olympian.”
“Gymnastics—not surfing.” I throw my middle finger in the air at him as I feel the shells dig into the bottom of my feet. “ Imbécile ,” 1 I mumble under my breath. I can’t believe we’re related.
My dad is throwing passes for JJ, my eighteen-year-old brother, as he practices his footwork to get ready for his freshman year of college starting in a few weeks. “Dad, did you see what Bailey did?” I complain, catching his attention after he throws a perfect spiral for JJ.
He laughs deeply, glancing in my direction as I set my board in the sand, quickly undoing the leash from my ankle. “I’m not getting in between the two of you—figure it out yourselves.”
“He stole my wave,” I continue, ignoring his answer.
“Mira, I can’t do anything about it.” He shrugs, shaking his head, the streaks of silver in his dark hair reflecting in the sunlight.
Is he kidding me? Dad could absolutely do something if he wanted to. “Well, you could ground him.” Okay, I might be taking this a bit far, but come on . That’s the second time today he pulled that shit, and it’s annoying.
“Stop whining, Mirabelle. Dad’s not going to ground me because you’re butt hurt,” Bailey taunts, taking off his own leash.
“Then stop dropping in on my waves if you’re going to tag along with me. It’s annoying.”
He rolls his green eyes. “Explain to me how I’m tagging along when it’s our beach?”
Hunter comes strolling down the stairs from the house, a water bottle in each hand. “What are you guys fighting about now?”
“How do you know we’re fighting?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. Dad snorts as Hunter throws him a water.
“That’s like asking if the sky is blue,” Hunter replies, tossing me the other bottle.
Hunter and Bailey are identical twins, the only difference between them is Hunter’s blond hair is cut short like JJ’s dark hair. It’s annoying how all three of my brothers inherited our mother’s piercing green eyes, whereas I only got my blonde hair from her. Aside from Dad’s height and build, the twins look exactly like Mom.
“ Dad .”
Dad simply smiles at us, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “Sorry, figure it out.”
JJ jogs over from where he was standing to join the conversation, the ball tucked into his arm as he towers over me. I’m a month shy of being two years older than him, and I know it might seem strange to other people, but he’s my best friend. There’s a light sheen of sweat on his forehead that he wipes off with the back of his hand, his green eyes twinkling. “What’s happening with Mira’s face?”
“Mira’s face looks like that because she’s complaining I stole her wave that wasn’t even her wave. Hunt came out to give us water, then you walked over,” Bailey recites like the smart-ass he is. Is it considered violence if I kick him?
“It was my wave.”
“Was your name on it?”
I open my mouth to retaliate when Dad interrupts, “Guys, come on, don’t make me be an adult. Mirabelle, Bailey’s right—you can’t put your name on the ocean because it’s a living thing. Bailey, don’t cut your sister off again. I don’t believe for a second that you didn’t know she was taking it. You could have both gotten hurt if you collided and then your mother would have murdered me, so maybe for the sake of my life, we don’t repeat this.”
“I’m going to shower. Maybe you won’t be such a crybaby by the time I’m done,” Bailey says, sticking his tongue out at me as Dad rolls his eyes.
I think I hate him. I love Bailey, but right now, I think I hate him.
JJ tosses the football to Hunter, who grins. Aside from JJ’s freshman year of high school, this upcoming season will be the first time they won’t be on the same team together. He’s leaving for Beaumont University in California in a week, and I’m not ready for my best friend to be on the other side of the country.
Hunter waits for JJ to take off down the beach before throwing the ball for him, turning to face us. “Oh, by the way, Mom wanted me to tell you guys Penelope and Chris are on their way over with Henry and Kaitlyn for dinner.”
My annoyance with Bailey immediately fades at the prospect of seeing Henry. I didn’t think I’d see him for at least another week. His best friend, Andrew, was traded to the Serpents for their wide receiver, and Henry went to help him move. “I didn’t realize he was back from Seattle already,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant, when in all actuality, my whole body feels like it’s coming alive.
Henry is one of my favorite people in the entire world.
I’ve also had a teeny, tiny crush on him for about as long as I can remember. My crush is a small detail, though. Not important in the grand scheme at all.
He’s simply a tall, dark-haired, ruggedly handsome quarterback with a sleeve of Greek mythology tattoos who somehow manages to get hotter every time I see him.
No big deal.
“He got back yesterday. Owen told me about the meeting he had with the front office and Henry this morning,” Dad answers easily. It doesn’t surprise me he knows this. It’s only been five months since he retired from the NFL after a legendary career, setting the record for the oldest player to retire at forty-nine after winning eight of the twelve Super Bowls he took the Panthers to. Dad’s been doing his best, alongside my Uncle Owen, the Panthers’ head coach, to help get Henry ready for his first season as QB1.
My heart spazzes in my chest because I can’t believe I’m arguing out here about this wave when I should be running inside to get ready before Henry arrives. “I’m going to shower too,” I say nonchalantly, or about as nonchalant as I can get.
My hair is a complete tangled mess right now, despite the braid I have it pulled back into, from all the salt in the water and the North Carolina humidity. There is absolutely no way I’m showing my face around Henry looking like I just crawled out of a swamp. Maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but still.
I carry my surfboard up the stairs, setting it on the wraparound porch of the beach house my parents now live in full-time since Dad’s retirement. The twins didn’t care about staying in Charlotte for their senior year since the school they’re transferring to is the same one Kaitlyn goes to.
I start my sports public relations internship in Charlotte a few days after JJ moves, so the plan is for me to stay at the house there since my parents aren’t ready to sell it. However, since graduation in May, I’ve spent every day on this beach. It’s been great, but I’m ready to have a purpose again.
It’s been almost four years since the Olympics, and I spent the last three years at Duke trying to figure out what the next step is. I won the all-around individual gold medal, and Team USA earned the all-around team gold. After winning gold medals from the highest-ranking sports competition, it makes everything else pale in comparison.
But who knows? Maybe I’ll fall in love with this internship.
The fact it’s with the Charlotte Blue Panthers— coincidentally the same team Henry plays for —had no impact on my decision to take it.
No impact at all.
~
I’ve taken way longer than necessary to get ready. I’m wearing a black sundress, my long blonde hair has naturally waved after towel drying it, and my moisturizer gives my tan skin a healthy glow.
I look in the mirror, giving myself a reassuring smile.
Y ou can do this. Just don’t let Bailey antagonize you into a petty fight in front of him, and maybe Henry will finally see that I’m twenty instead of ten . The key tonight is to not fight with my brothers. Kaitlyn and the twins are the same age, and have been best friends their entire lives, so hopefully that will keep Bailey distracted. JJ tries to have my back to keep me from acting like a fool in front of Henry, but there’s only so much he can do.
The rest is up to me to keep my short temper in check. I think there’s a better shot of aliens falling from the sky than that happening, but I’m going to try.
I know it’s wishful thinking that Henry will finally see me the same way I’ve always seen him, but I’m not ready to give up.
Shit, does that make me pathetic?
I pull my hair over one shoulder, making my way downstairs. I’m definitely the last one down, but better late than never.
Don’t fight with Bailey. That’s my mantra for the night. I can’t forget it.
Penelope beams at me when she spots me, her dark hair now cut short since the last time I saw her. “I swear you get prettier every time I see you.”
Well, damn. If that doesn’t do something for my ego. I hug her tightly. “You’re the best.”
Chris laughs, attracting my attention. “What? I don’t get a hug too?” I smile at him, hugging him next before taking a seat on the other couch.
It’s only been a couple of weeks since I’ve seen them, but they go to France a couple times a year to visit Penelope’s family. She met my mom there during her year abroad in college, and they’ve been friends ever since.
Mom walks into the living room with two glasses and a bottle of white wine. “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming down,” she teases, smiling as she sits down next to me.
“My hair was super knotted after surfing today. It took half a bottle of detangler to get it out,” I say, groaning. Just kidding, I was preparing myself to see Henry.
“The boys are down by the water with Kaitlyn looking for shark teeth from that storm yesterday, but you’re more than welcome to hang up here with us adults.”
“Where’s Dad?” I ask, looking around, noting that he and Henry are both absent from the room. It’s less weird if I ask where Dad is, though.
She pours the wine into the glasses, passing one to Penelope. “Still in the kitchen. Henry wanted to talk to him about football. I’m sure they’ll be out here in a couple of minutes.”
“Gotcha,” I say, curling my legs under me.
“Mira, are you ready for your internship with the Panthers? When do you start?” Chris asks, smiling proudly at me.
“Two weeks,” I say. “I’m free a little bit longer, and then I’m a working woman with the rest of the population.”
Penelope shakes her head, her face scrunching in mild disgust. “Work is overrated.”
Mom laughs, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Pen, we’re literally in business together, you can’t say that.” Penelope helped Mom open her first gallery in Charlotte, and since then, they’ve opened locations in Paris and New York. When Mom isn’t showcasing her own work, she rents out the gallery space to up-and-coming artists to give them an opportunity to get their work out there.
“And? Your daughter has already accomplished more than the three of us in this room combined, and she’s only twenty . She got Bash’s work ethic, and your stubbornness. Personally, I think Mira should travel the world, not be stuck in some office job,” Penelope continues, taking a large sip of her wine. This is why Penelope is one of my favorite people in the world. She’s like my own personal hype squad.
“I want to work,” I insist. When I wasn’t at the gym, I spent the rest of my childhood traveling with Mom to all the corners of the world. She’s kind of a badass. Marrying my dad, she didn’t have to work, but she wanted to have her own identity apart from him, and I’ve always respected her for it.
“How was surfing today?” Mom asks, redirecting the conversation.
“It was good, I caught some good waves. I think I’m going to go out early in the morning.”
Dad picks that moment to walk in, his amber eyes full of laughter. “Just make sure you don’t wake up Bailey. I’d hate for him to steal another one of your waves,” he teases, sitting down on the other side of Mom, his hand falling to rest on her knee.
My rebuttal sticks in my throat as Henry walks in the room. His lips quirk upward into an amused smirk as he looks at me. “You two still fighting with each other all the time?” He’s smiling at you, don’t make a fool of yourself.
“No,” I protest quickly, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “Not all the time—just when he’s being an annoyance.”
“So all the time,” Henry says, laughing.
“Pretty much. Believe it or not, it is nice having all of them under the same roof again, at least for the next week,” Dad says as Mom groans.
“Speak for yourself, we never have any hot water. I love my kids, but I’m excited to take a hot shower again. You didn’t give Chris this much trouble, did you?” she asks, eyeing Henry.
“I never used all the hot water if that’s what you’re asking,” he replies with an easy smile, crossing his arms over his chest. I don’t think he intended for the movement to show off his muscles, but now I’m wondering what it would be like to have him hold me with them. My eyes go straight to his sleeve, an intricate collection of black artwork. I used to think I didn’t like tattoos until Henry started getting them, but then again, Henry could do just about anything, and I’d probably end up liking it.
I’m hopeless.
“No, you just spent every waking minute eating, sleeping, and breathing football to attend Duke and get drafted,” Chris says, but his proud smile says it all. “Bash, I think you hijacked my kid. Instead of following in my footsteps, he’s a quarterback like you.”
The thing about Henry is that my parents adore him. They’re his godparents, and they’ve always loved him like he was one of us. I remember when Henry was in high school, he went to a party and ended up wasted. His designated driver bailed, so he called my mom. She drove out to get him, leaving me in charge of my brothers, since Dad was out of town for an away game. After letting him stay in the guest room, Mom chewed him out but then hugged him, telling him she was glad he called her.
The day Henry was drafted to the Panthers, my dad was so proud I think he shed a few tears along with Chris.
Dad shrugs, putting his hands up in self-defense. “That’s exactly how I felt when JJ decided he liked being the one to block or run the touchdown in more than being the one throwing it. Owen hyped up the glory of a tight end so much there was no way I could change his mind. Thank goodness I still have a chance with Hunter.”
Mom jabs an elbow into his side. “Not all of our sons need to become professional football players, Sebastian. I think you’re trying to give me a heart attack. Mirabelle gave us enough scares when she was on the uneven bars.”
She’s not wrong. The uneven bars were my favorite part of gymnastics because I felt like I was flying. Dad used to call me his little monkey because I hated being on the ground instead of up in the air somewhere.
The back door opens, and all three of my brothers spill in, with Kaitlyn right behind them, asking a chorus of questions fitting for three starving teenage boys.
JJ plops down on the other side of me, even though he’s probably dying to ask Henry to throw the football with him. JJ idolizes Henry. Everyone in my family thinks Henry walks on water, including me.
“You look nice,” Henry comments, and I shrug, trying to play it off.
“I always look good.”
Chris hears me, snorting. “Jesus, how much time do you spend with your uncle? Next thing we know, you’ll be talking to yourself in the mirror.”
Oops. They don’t need to know I already do that.
“Definitely too much time with Owen, but it’s okay. We love her anyway.” Mom smiles warmly at me as I return it. Dad grabs her hand, subtly threading their fingers together, not skipping a beat in his side conversation with Henry at all.
I want that.
I want a love like my parents have.
My gaze slides over to Henry as Hunter asks him a question about this upcoming season. Henry’s hazel eyes are bright as he laughs, and the butterflies in my stomach go crazy at the sound. Almost as if he can feel me staring at him, his attention flits to me for a brief moment, and he offers me a slight smile before redirecting back to my brother.
JJ bumps my leg with his, breaking my concentration on Henry. I turn away from him completely to ask Kaitlyn if she’s excited for her senior year of high school, hoping no one noticed that I was staring at Henry in the first place.