Chapter 20
TWENTY
ISLA
Under the table, I check my phone again, trying not to get caught for breaking the no phones at the table rule. It’s been hours since I heard from Hendrix. Before that, he was texting me steadily.
Until we had sex in his truck, he didn’t even have my number. And since he dropped me off that night and I put it in his phone, we’ve talked practically nonstop. Until now …
I keep telling myself that maybe he’s busy, but seeing as one of his teammates has been sitting across from me all night, I know he’s not busy with hockey, and I know he doesn’t have classes this late in the day either.
This morning, I emailed my friend the information about Hendrix’s sister, Lilly.
On the drive home from the orchard, he told me everything he could about her, and I saved it into my phone to pass along.
I just hope that I can find him some answers because even though it seems like he may be avoiding me right now, I’m sure I’m just being sensitive, and I want to help him if I can.
I sit at the dinner table with my parents and Saint; Cash; Cane; their little sister, Aviana; their mother, Freya; and their stepdad, Tripp.
Two or three times a year, we all get together for dinner to catch up.
My dad and Tripp became friends years ago when they were playing for rival New England NHL teams, and they’ve remained friends today.
The only annoying part of these dinners is that our parents not-so-subtly try to hook us up.
Well, my dad tries to push me toward Cash because he’s the epitome of a golden child.
But Tripp and Freya push his older brother, Cane, on me because he’s a bit of a wild card, and I’m pretty sure they think I can save him.
That’s the thing about everyone at this table; they all think I’m an angel.
And I guess, to some extent, I’ve always tried to be one because my mom went through enough, raising me alone for the first few years of my life, and my dad …
well, I’ve just always considered myself so lucky that he came into our lives that I never want to do anything that would make him want to leave.
But sometimes, being good … is exhausting.
“So, are y’all ready for that auction thing of O’Brien’s?” Tripp asks, seemingly amused. “I’m so glad that shit wasn’t a thing when I was in college.”
“Hell no, I’m not ready,” Cash grumbles. “A bunch of people bidding on winning a date with college kids is creepy.”
“Agreed.” Cane nods. “Although it would be kinda cool to get picked by a cougar.”
“Ew,” Aviana says, cringing. “We all know who you’re hoping to get, Cane.”
That earns her a glare from him and a confused look from everyone else. Freya is just about to question what she meant when Cash interrupts her.
“Hey, guys.” He looks at me and Cane. “Care to get your asses kicked in air hockey?”
“Yeah, right. Last time, Isla beat your ass!” Aviana says, looking at me as she stands up from her chair.
“Aviana, language,” Freya grumbles.
“Sorry, Mom,” she singsongs, glancing my way. “Come on, Isla. Go show the boys how it’s done.”
Aviana is sixteen now, and I literally can’t believe how grown up and gorgeous she is since the last time I saw her, which had to have been just seven or eight months ago. I’m not the only one who’s noticed either because Saint keeps looking her way too.
Aviana has had a crush on Saint for years, but he always saw her as the annoying little girl who was two years younger than him. Now, it seems as though the tables have turned.
As we all get up, grabbing our dirty plates to take to the kitchen, Freya laughs.
“Oh my, you mean the adults get to sit here and actually hear each other while we talk?”
When I glance back to smile at her, Tripp has his arm around the back of her chair, and my dad moves a bit closer to my mom. He picks something off her plate that she didn’t eat and plops it into his mouth, just like he always does, as us five kids drop our plates off and head toward the game room.
“Hey, Avy,” Saint says to Aviana. “How’s hockey been going? My sister said that you’re, like, the team’s star player, even though you’re only a sophomore.”
Aviana’s cheeks grow insanely red, and I give her a reassuring smile as I walk toward the air hockey table. I think it’s adorable that my brother makes her so nervous, but he shouldn’t because she’s a catch.
“Um, yeah, it’s been going well.” She nods quickly, tucking her hands into her back pockets.
“That’s cool. We should go play hockey in the driveway,” he says strictly to her. “Do you still have a net and gear and stuff?”
She nods eagerly, and within seconds, they take off.
“I’ll take on the loser,” Cane says, plopping down onto one of the huge chaise lounges. “Cough, cough … Cash.”
Cash flashes his brother the middle finger and takes his usual side of the table. “Not gonna lie; I’m not sure how I feel about your little brother dawging on Avy.” He cringes. “She’s too young for that.”
“She’s sixteen,” I say, lifting my brows. “What were you two doing at that age?” I pause, looking between both of them. “That’s what I thought.”
Seconds into us starting our game, smashing the puck back and forth with zero mercy, Cash—who usually takes it seriously—decides it’s a good time for a heart-to-heart.
“So, what’s the deal with you and Hunt anyway?” he says, stopping the puck just before it goes into the slot and sailing it back my way. “Are you two, like, an item … or …”
“No,” I say quickly, holding the puck and looking at him with wide eyes. “Also, can you not? Dad is already freaked out about the entire thing, and I don’t want to talk him off a ledge anytime soon. He’s been doing so well, not bringing it up tonight.”
“I like Hunt,” Cane calls from his chair, and I cringe, hoping my dad isn’t listening by the door. “He’s a bit rough around the edges. He definitely has that whole bad boy who will fuck you up if you look at him wrong thing going on. But he seems like a decent dude.”
“Just don’t get on his bad side,” Cash utters and shrugs when I narrow my eyes. “What? You know what I mean. He’s fucking scary.”
I don’t tell Cash that his dark side is something that both pushes me away and draws me in. I don’t voice it because I don’t understand it.
And I also don’t tell him that it’s driving me crazy that Hendrix has been ghosting me all day. I want to play it off like there’s nothing going on because, right now, that’s exactly what it seems like.
“Just play the game, would you?” I finally nail the puck, sending it right into his goal before jumping up and down. “Take that, asshole!”
Taking the puck from the slot, he holds it in his hand and gives me a serious look.
“I like Hendrix, and I like you. So, I’m not here to tell you not to give him a chance.” He pauses, sighing. “But I will say this … just be careful, okay?”
It’s getting old. Every single person telling me that. Then again, I didn’t listen, had sex with the dude, and now he can’t even take five seconds to answer a message. So, how annoyed can I really be?
Finally, I nod. “Fine,” I huff out. “Now, let’s play. The quicker I beat you, the quicker I can beat your brother.”
And even though, physically, I’m here, mentally, I’m wondering if Hendrix used me for sex, and now, whatever it is we had … is over.
It would probably be for the best, but, God, I hope that isn’t true.