Chapter Fourteen
FOURTEEN
Aidan
“No way.” Liam blinks at me with wide unbelieving eyes as we climb out of his luxury SUV and step into his garage. “Are you sure it was Micah? Like, you’re positive she’s the one who put hot sauce in your sandwich?”
“Of course I’m positive,” I say.
I follow Liam into his town house. When I walk inside, I immediately trip over his gear bag and almost stumble over a toolbox.
I quickly right myself and glance around the kitchen floor, which is littered in random crap. In addition to his hockey gear bag and toolbox, there’s a giant container of protein powder, an empty cardboard box, a package of bottled water, and a wet towel lying on the floor.
“How the hell do you live like this?”
He shrugs. “I’m used to it.”
I roll my eyes at him. “You’re living like a frat boy. Jesus.” I frown at the unopened air fryer I got him for Christmas, which is sitting on his kitchen island. “You haven’t opened that yet?”
He stares at the box, like it’s the first time he’s seen it. “Huh. I forgot that was there.” He laughs. I punch his shoulder, and he laughs harder.
“What? I travel a lot for work. And when I’m in town, I’m playing or at practice or training. I haven’t had the time to unpack and get settled in.”
I roll my eyes. “Liam, you moved into this place months ago. It would take one day to unpack if you just blocked out the time and did it.”
He grins at me. “Maybe you could do it for me.”
I scoff. “No way. Look, why don’t you just stay in tonight and unpack. I’ll tell Mom. She’ll understand.”
Liam shakes his head. “And miss a free home-cooked meal? No way.”
We’re supposed to have dinner with our mom tonight. Liam is usually busy during hockey season, but every once in a while, he gets a free night and our mom insists that we make a family night out of it and come over for dinner. I always offer to cook or pick up food from a restaurant, but she insists on cooking for Liam and me. The one thing she leaves for us to sort out are the drinks, and it’s Liam’s turn to bring wine tonight, so we stopped by his place to get it on the way.
He mentions something about how the team he plays for has staff that the players can hire as personal assistants.
I stare at him. “You need to hire a personal assistant to unpack your kitchen? Are you kidding me?”
He flashes that pretty-boy smile that gets him out of anything. “Why not hire someone to do the stuff I hate doing anyway? I get paid enough.”
I think back to when we were kids and the two of us started mowing lawns for the neighbors to earn extra money. He was terrible at it, always cutting the grass too short and missing entire patches in people’s yards. When our neighbors would look at the awful job that Liam did, he’d give them that same smile and say that he was sorry it wasn’t better and that he was still learning. It worked every time. They’d laugh and say no big deal before paying him and leaving a tip. It always drove me nuts.
“Pretty awesome perk of my job, right?” He grins, then opens his refrigerator door and pulls out a beer bottle. He hands it to me and fills a glass of water for himself.
“No beer for you?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nope. Gotta hydrate for tomorrow’s training session.”
I start to give back the beer, but my brother shakes his head. “You sound like you could use a beer after the day you had.”
I put the beer back into the fridge and instead grab an electrolyte drink. I crack it open and take a long pull, wincing at the sweet taste.
“I should probably just stick to water and this stuff.” I take another sip.
Liam leans against the kitchen island, shaking his head. “I still can’t believe Micah put hot sauce in your sandwich. That’s some hardcore shit.”
I sigh. “Yeah. It was.”
On the drive to my brother’s town house, I tell him everything that went down today.
I chug more electrolyte drink and notice him squinting at me. “What?”
“You sure it was an accident that you stared at her chest again?” Liam asks.
I shove his shoulder. “Of course it was an accident. It was just bad timing.” I set the bottle on the counter. “Really, really bad timing.”
Liam looks at me like he doesn’t believe me. “If you say so.”
He motions for me to move aside and grabs a bottle from the wine rack.
“You think this’ll be enough?” he asks.
I nod. “Neither of us are drinking. That’ll be plenty for Mom and Aunt Ricki if she shows up too.”
I start to walk to the garage door, but I notice Liam lingering the kitchen.
He clears his throat as he looks at me. “So, uh, Dad called me today.”
I feel the muscles in my neck and shoulders tighten. “What did he want?”
Liam hesitates for a second. “He asked about you. Wanted to know how you were doing.”
I grit my teeth, annoyed. “Not sure why he’d be interested in how I’m doing. He made it clear to me after I quit playing hockey in college that he had no interest in my life anymore.”
Liam frowns. “Come on, Aidan. That was a long time ago that you two fell out. Yeah, Dad was a jerk back then, but—”
“I don’t care,” I bark. “I’m not interested in speaking to him.”
Liam purses his lips, even though I know he wants to say more. But I don’t want to hear whatever our dad told him to say to me.
Ever since that day in college, he made his disappointment and disinterest in me crystal clear. He barely spoke to me. He stopped calling me. He and our mom have been divorced since Liam and I were little, so it’s not like I had to see him much anyway. He focused all his energy and attention on Liam, who could actually fulfill his dreams of having a superstar athlete for a son. Whenever I attended one of Liam’s games, I made sure to sit far away from him.
I take in the pained look on my brother’s face. Guilt throttles me. I hate that the rift between our Dad and me affects him too.
“Hey. I’m sorry,” I say, my voice quiet. “I shouldn’t have lashed out on you like that.”
He shakes his head. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t push you. I know things between you two have been strained for a long time. And I know it’s his fault. I’m sorry for making it sound like I was putting it on you.”
“It’s okay.” I sigh. “I’m sorry he puts you in the middle of us like that. It’s not fair to you.”
Liam opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but instead he stays quiet. “We should get going, or we’ll be late and Mom will chew our asses.”
We both chuckle, and the tension in the air between us fades.
We walk back out to the garage and hop into my brother’s car. Liam drives us to our mom’s house in Franklin, a picturesque town just outside of Nashville.
I check my phone and pull up the Scribble Share app. When I see a message from Hot4Hermia, I read it immediately.
Comfort reading your stories again to unwind from work :) Hope you’re having a good week! And hope you haven’t had to deal with that obnoxious coworker!
I start to smile. It’s nice to hear from her after the shit day I’ve had. I type a quick response.
Hey! Thanks so much for rereading :) And I wish I could say I was able to avoid them…but sadly, we had a run-in. It was pretty unpleasant.
I’m about to exit the app, but I see that she replies right away.
Hot4Hermia: Oh no! Crap, I’m sorry to hear that :(
ShakespeareInLust: I’m just glad to be done with work for the day.
Hot4Hermia: I hope you’re doing something fun to take your mind off work stuff!
ShakespeareInLust: Dinner with family should do the trick :) How are you? How’s work going for you?
Hot4Hermia: Doing well. I managed to get a tiny little win over that coworker that’s been annoying the crap out of me, so I’m currently riding the high of that.
ShakespeareInLust: Really? Way to go! Glad one of us is winning the battle against the obnoxious coworkers
Hot4Hermia: *laughing emoji*
Liam eases to stop at a red light and glances over at me. “You could just apologize to Micah, you know.”
I put my phone away and turn to him, annoyed that he brought up Micah. “Why? She’s the one who doused my sandwich in hot sauce. She’s the reason I embarrassed myself in front of everyone I work with. I shouldn’t have to say sorry to her.”
My face heats when I think about how loud I was while coughing and choking. The whole building heard me. So fucking mortifying.
Liam runs a hand through his gold-blond hair as he checks out his reflection in the mirror and chuckles. “What are you gonna do, then? Poison her back?”
“Of course not.”
He pats my shoulder. “Yeah, I know, you’re not the vengeful type.”
My brother speeds ahead. He’s right. I’m not the vengeful type. But I’m not a doormat either. I can’t just let Micah get away with what she did.
Liam stops at a Starbucks drive-through.
“It’s six thirty in the evening,” I tell him when he pulls up to order.
“Mom’s making turkey pot pie. You know a plate of that knocks me out cold. I need the caffeine to keep from passing out at the dinner table.”
I chuckle. And it hits me: the perfect way to get back at Micah.