Chapter 5
CAMDEN
The first time I ever laid my eyes on Nadine Rivera, she was wearing an ice-blue dress, the same color as her eyes, like a frozen river in winter, that flowed down from one shoulder and wrapped around her hips before splitting open to reveal one smooth leg with a mile-high heel on her foot.
I’d never before been tempted by the tiny straps of a high heel, but I had suddenly wanted to undo them with my teeth.
It was Erik and Molly’s engagement party, and he’d introduced me to his sister by telling me she was one of his best friends.
She smiled at that, those plump pink lips spreading wide before taking my proffered outstretched hand, her fingers so dainty in mine.
We didn’t say much more to each other than the usual small talk, so I couldn’t understand why the next time we bumped into each other by the dessert station, and I asked if she was having a good time, she answered by telling me, “The guest list could use a little work.” Then she narrowed those river-blue eyes at me, her gaze trailing over me as her nose turned up in obvious disgust. “Nobody likes a cocky asshole at their parties.”
“Excuse me?” I said, inclining my head to the tiny menace.
“You heard me.” She rolled her eyes. “Other people might like this bad-boy act, but I do not.” Then she stomped away, her dress swishing behind her, and I’d been shocked the floor didn’t turn to ice in her wake.
To this day, I have no idea where her complete hatred of me came from, and all our meetings after that didn’t fare much better.
Now I’m about to meet her again. While I don’t doubt she’s perfected her impression of an uptight schoolmarm, I’ve been warned by Erik to be on my best behavior, and I easily agreed. This isn’t for me. This is for Paisley.
As much as I’m not especially looking forward to being in close contact with a porcupine disguised as a woman, I need help, and Nadine is, unfortunately, the best person for the job.
We agreed to meet at my place, and when the doorman alerts me that they’re here, I take a few calming breaths before checking my reflection in the mirror.
The last two months have taken a toll on me.
My hair, which I normally have trimmed every three weeks, is scraggly, and I’ve grown a beard.
From my house and my cars to my personal appearance, I like things to be pristine. Only the best of clothes and barbers.
But lately, I haven’t had the will or energy to care, and since I haven’t been going out in public at all, it didn’t really matter anyway.
I open the door after the few knocks on it and dap up Erik. He pulls me into a one-armed hug, giving me one last warning, “Seriously. Be nice.”
“Aren’t I always?” I mutter before releasing him then turn to the ice queen herself. “Nadine, how are you?”
She looks exactly as I remember, though her dark brown hair is shorter now, at her shoulders instead of halfway down her back. Her chin is tipped up at that proud angle, and even though she’s more than a foot shorter than me, she carries herself like she’s a giant.
Especially when she looks me up and down, surprise coloring her features, probably at my unkempt appearance. “I’m fine. How are you holding up?”
Shrugging, I open the door wider so they can enter. “All right.”
She nods, staying silent, and I’m not sure if it’s because she pities me or if she received the same warning from her brother.
She coasts her gaze around my home, offering no reaction whatsoever, and I almost wish she would.
I wish she’d offer some snarky comment, so I could throw one back. At least that would feel normal.
Like my old self.
Nothing about this feels good or right. This new life.
Especially the way Nadine quietly follows me to the living room, all of that addictive venom hidden.
I wave for my sister’s attention, and when she turns in her seat, I sign and speak at the same time. “Paisley, my friends are here to hang out with us. You know Erik, and this is his sister Nadine.”
She steps up to my side, simultaneously signing, “I’m not his friend.”
My little sister’s mouth crooks up in a sort of smile, and my heart jumps. For this bit of life and a taste of those abrasive words I’ve been craving.
“I actually can’t stand him,” Nadine signs, and my sister laughs.
It’s the best sound I’ve ever heard.
Erik tosses his hands on his hips like he does when the refs won’t call a holding penalty.
“Do you mind if I sit with you?” Nadine asks, signing fast.
My ASL is rusty, and I’m having to learn a lot since I’m out of practice.
Nadine has no problem with it. Paisley shifts over, making room on the small couch so she and Nadine can face each other while Erik and I take the bigger one.
My sister and Nadine easily fall into silent conversation, with Nadine asking questions about Paisley, while Erik and I not so subtly try to eavesdrop, pretending we’re not.
I take over the remote and put on ESPN since the girls don’t seem to care.
Erik catches me up on the workouts he’s been doing, keeping his arm in shape for the season.
Normally, I spend time with trainers, but I’ve let everything fall by the wayside since May.
I stayed in Cedar Falls after the funeral in my childhood home, so Paisley could finish her eighth-grade year as I packed up my parents’ things and sold the home.
It wasn’t easy, deciding what to do with my parents’ entire life, even worse because Paisley did not want to move.
She did not want to sell the house. She did not want to give any of their belongings away.
I didn’t either, but we couldn’t keep all of it, like some mausoleum. But I think that’s what she wanted, to keep everything exactly as it was.
I understood that desire to have it like it was before.
But it wasn’t possible.
We had to keep going.
At least, that’s what I told myself every time I wanted to throw up my hands and give in.
I’m not sure Paisley will ever forgive me for forcing her to move halfway across the country, but I made sure to put multiple boxes into storage, anything I thought she might want from Mom and Dad when she was older.
I brought along a couple of old photo albums and some of Dad’s button-downs and Mom’s T-shirts.
Malcolm mentioned I could have them made into pillows or quilts or something, which I suppose is better than what we have now.
Which is nothing.
Watching Paisley chat with Nadine, I blow out a breath, having missed everything Erik said for the last minute. He smacks my side. “You all right?”
I lift my shoulder in answer.
“You wanna watch some tape?” he asks, and when I glance toward the girls, he waves. “They’re fine. Look at them. Two peas in a pod.”
So I stand and fetch my wallet to dig out my credit card, handing it over to Paisley. “Order something for dinner,” I sign. “Whatever you want. Erik and I are going to the media room. Let us know when the food gets here.”
Then we head down the hall to the room with eight recliners and a wall-to-wall screen.
The coaching teams had emailed everybody game tape from the previous season, plays that went well or didn’t, but I didn’t even open mine.
Erik, of course, studies a lot more film than me, more than anyone on the team, and he always has a link ready.
So he sets it up while I power on the projector before we sink into the chairs, and I lose myself in the only thing I excel at.
The one thing I treated as replaceable.
I have a lot of groveling to do this season, and even though I know it won’t be comfortable to face my teammates or coaching staff again, I have to.
I need to prove I’m not the careless jackass they think I am.
The world can say whatever it wants, but knowing I let down my team is what hurts the most.
So I’ll take every minute I can get, earning back their trust, starting with Erik. Because he might be my best friend, but he’s also my QB. I let him down most of all. Only days after we—I—lost the championship, Kai was born, and we never talked about what happened. Swept it under the rug instead.
So we spend the next hour discussing plays and strategy until Nadine pops her head around the door, informing us the food has arrived.
By the time we make it out to the dining room, she has all the burgers and fries from Shake Shack laid out on the table.
She hands a milkshake to Erik, telling him, “It’s chocolate. ”
He nods his thanks and immediately sits down to start eating. Meanwhile, I notice Paisley’s got a big vanilla shake in her hand, and Nadine has what appears to be cookies and cream.
“Where’s my shake?” I ask verbally, not bothering to sign.
Nadine purses her lips around the straw, sucking some of her milkshake down for five full seconds of torture before saying, “Must’ve forgotten to order you one.”
She offers me a fake smile as her brother chides her softly, but she’s not getting off that easy.
Nah.
As she slides into her seat, I intercept her shake, pop the top, and down almost the whole thing before she can argue. It goes down like a brick and I have brain freeze, but watching her jaw hang open is all worth it.
I grin and give her back the little bit that’s left. “Delicious.”
“You are—”
“Kids,” Erik chides, eyes ping-ponging between us. “Let’s remember why we’re all here.”
I slant my gaze to my sister, munching away on her burger and fries, and I deflate. With one last scowl in Nadine’s direction, I sit next to Paisley and help myself to grabbing two cheeseburgers, then sign, “I’m glad you’re eating.”
She huffs. “Because I’m tired of your chicken, broccoli, and rice.”