Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Caroline
My head is spinning for a couple of reasons.
I’m sure the wine is playing a part in it, but his words are making it spin more.
Dylan is going on and on about something with Justin, and the only thing I can hear in my head is I want to kiss you.
It doesn’t help that his smell is all around me because of his ginormous sweater.
I had to roll the sleeves just to get them over my hands.
I pick up my wine by accident and take a sip, putting it down and then looking over at Justin who just smirks. “If you really want to sleep over, sweetheart …”
“It was an accident,” I say and then pick up the glass of water and finish the whole thing. “I need more water.”
“Do you now?” He smiles, and Lara comes in with a tray and places it in the middle of the table.
“This are just little samples,” she says. I look at the tray of what she calls “little samples,” and it’s enough food to last a week. “Little meatballs, garlic bread, calamari, bruschetta, sausage and rapini and arugula salad.” She smiles and puts down a stack of white plates in front of me.
“I want meatballs,” Dylan says. “And the sausage.” He looks at Justin and scrunches his nose. “No green stuff.”
Lara throws her head back and laughs. “Is there anything specific you want to eat for the main?”
“The main?” I ask, and then look at Justin, leaning in. “What does she mean by that?”
“I think a couple of pizzas and maybe a penne vodka and a spaghetti would be good,” he tells her, and she smiles and nods at us.
“Did you just order more food?” I ask Justin, who is already filling a plate for Dylan and then putting a bit of everything on one for me.
He puts the plate down in front of me and the smell of garlic and tomatoes hits my nose right away, making my mouth water. “Eat, sweetheart,” he says softly, and my stomach feels like it just did a wave. No one has ever called me that.
I look over at Dylan who has just destroyed the meatball and is asking Justin for another one. His mouth is covered in sauce. “So how many sisters did you say you had again?” I ask him as I take my first bite of the meatball, and it has to be the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life.
“Three,” he says, chewing. “Allison is the oldest girl.” He smiles. “Then the twins, Zara and Zoe.” His eyes light up when he talks about his family.
“So you’re the baby?” I ask him again, this time eating a piece of the calamari. It melts in my mouth.
“Matthew is the oldest,” he says, looking at Dylan. “The guy who called me when I was driving.” Dylan couldn’t care less what he is saying as he eats his food.
“How much older?” I ask him.
“Eighteen years,” he says, and my eyes open wide. “Were you an oops?”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Matthew and Allison are from my mom’s first marriage.”
“So your half brother and sister?” I say, and he shakes his head.
“Not to us,” he says. “My dad is their dad; doesn’t matter what blood they have.” I put my hand on his arm. “Their father cheated on my mother, and she caught him. I’ve never met the man, but I’ve been told he’s a tool.”
“Do they still keep in touch with him?” My hand remains on his arm.
“Nope. He stopped coming around when my dad came into the picture. He tried to get my mother back, but my father, well, let’s just say he squashed that idea right away,” he says, and his face lights up again.
“It took one look from my dad, and he was a goner. I mean that, and my mother told him to take a hike, which made Dad want her even more.”
“Love at first sight.” I smile now and take my hand off his arm and eat another meatball. “Are your siblings married?”
“Yeah, all of them. Matthew is married to Karrie, and they have four kids.” My eyes go big.
“He’s a caveman. If he could carry her around over his shoulder and pound his chest while screaming she’s mine, he probably would.
” I laugh. “Allison is married to Max, and they have two kids. He is also Matthew’s ex-enemy. ”
“Holy crap,” I say, mesmerized by the family.
“Oh, yeah, not only did they get married”—he starts to laugh—“but they eloped, and Matthew found out watching SportsCenter .” I put my hand to my mouth.
“One more meatball,” Dylan says, and Justin looks at me for approval.
“You sure? There is pizza and pasta coming,” I say, and he nods his head.
“So tell me more,” I ask, wanting to hear more.
“Zara was the first twin to get married to Evan Richards,” he says, then waits for my reaction after he says his name, and when I just shrug, he looks at Dylan. “Evan Richards.”
“He’s the best. He won a Stanley Cup,” he says, wiping his mouth. “Not as good as Justin, though.”
“Wait,” Justin says. He takes out his phone, and suddenly, he’s FaceTiming someone, and the man who fills the screen is hot. “Yo,” Justin says, and the man speaks up.
“Hey,” he says, and then I hear a woman’s voice yelling in the background.
“Why the hell is Justin calling you?” She now stands next to the guy, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier woman in my life.
“He likes me better than you,” the man says.
“Okay, listen,” Justin says. “I want you to hear what I just heard.”
The woman snatches the phone. “Oh my God, is this gossip?” she says with a squeal. “I love gossip. What is it about? Is it about Allison? Did you notice her weight gain, too? You think she’s pregnant?”
“What?” Justin asks, shocked. “I need Evan.”
“I’m here,” he says, and he comes to stand next to who must be his wife, Justin’s sister Zara.
“Dylan,” he says, pressing the button to turn the camera around. “What did you say about Evan Richards?” Dylan smiles and becomes shy. “It’s okay, buddy. He knows,” Justin says.
“I said he’s good,” Dylan says, almost hiding his smile.
“And …” Justin says.
“But you’re better,” he says.
Zara starts laughing, and Evan yells, “Bullshit!” Loudly.
“There is a kid in the room,” Zara says, and now Evan grabs the phone from her.
“I want to speak to Dylan,” he says, and Justin hands Dylan the phone.
“How old are you?” he asks Dylan.
“Eight,” Dylan says.
“What level do you play?” Evan asks him.
Zara is in the background. “Would you stop harassing the child, Evan?”
“I play forward,” Dylan says proudly.
“When I’m down in two weeks, how about we play one-on-one?” Evan says, and I hear dogs barking in the background.
“You just threw down to a child,” Zara admonishes.
“It’s on,” Dylan says, and I shake my head as he hands the phone back to Justin.
“Okay, just thought I would share that with you,” Justin says when he gets the phone back.
“I’m sure you did.” He laughs. “Where are you?”
“We are at Cicionni,” Justin says.
“Who is we , Justin?” Zara asks, and I see Justin give the same smile he did when he was talking about his family.
“Dylan and Caroline,” he says and comes closer to me. “Caroline, say hi to my bratty number one.” He turns the phone on me, and I try not to panic, but I swear my hands start shaking, and I have the sudden need to drink another gulp of wine.
“Oh, shit,” Evan says in the background and comes closer to the phone. “It’s about to be real.”
“Hi,” I say, and Zara’s eyes open wide.
“Hi,” she says, “it’s so nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” I say, and I don’t know what else to say so Justin takes over.
“Okay, squirt, call you later,” he says.
“I’m so telling everyone,” Zara says, and he laughs, then he hangs up. Before I can ask him what she means, the door opens, and Lara comes back with another waiter, both of them carrying trays.
“I hope you guys are hungry,” she says, and I don’t say anything else because two pizzas and two huge plates of pasta are set down on the table.
Dylan digs into the spaghetti and then eats a slice of pizza, and the only thing that I can fit in my stomach is two slices of pizza. But Justin eats us both under the table, and when I look at him, he just winks at me.
When Lara comes back in, she takes the remainder of the food and offers to box it up for us. “I’m stuffed,” Justin says, stretching backward and then putting his arm around my chair to pull me closer to him.
“Did you eat enough?” he asks, and I look over at him and nod.
“Okay, you two,” Lara says, coming back in with a tray. “I made this special tiramisu and then a Nutella cheesecake this morning,” she says, putting the dessert in the middle of the table.
“If I eat anything else, I’m going to explode,” I whisper, but Justin sits up and takes a spoon and then cuts a piece of tiramisu and brings the spoon to my mouth.
“Taste it,” he says, holding the spoon to my lips. I open my mouth, and the cool of the cake hits my tongue, and then the sweetness follows. “Good, right?” he says and takes another piece and eats from the same spoon.
Dylan is eating his own piece, and I swear the kid has a hole in his stomach sometimes. “Dylan, don’t make yourself sick.”
“Mom, it’s so good,” he says, finishing the whole piece.
“Here, taste this,” Justin says, holding the spoon to my mouth.
“I can’t,” I say, trying to duck from him, but he doesn’t let up.
“Just taste a bite,” he says, and I open and take the spoon, and I swear I will never taste anything as good again. “Good, right?” I nod my head.
I watch the two of them finish the dessert, and then Justin stands. “Let’s go, sweetheart,” he says again. I look at him, and he just smirks at me. Then he turns to Dylan. “Ready, champ?”
“Yup,” Dylan says and gets up, and Justin grabs the bag with the takeout. I follow Justin out of the room and expect him to walk ahead of me, but he doesn’t. He waits for me and then puts his arm around my shoulder. When we walk past the hostess stand, he doesn’t even look their way.
“Thank you for coming,” the two women say, and all he does is nod. We are almost out of the door when a couple of fans come over and ask for pictures. He is very polite to them, and they pose for pictures.
“It’s so cool,” Dylan says next to me, and I have to agree that it really is. When he finishes, he comes to us, and we walk back into the lobby.
“Let’s get you guys home,” he says as we walk through the lobby and to the elevator. I try not to look around too much, and when we get into the garage, I follow him to the SUV.
“Look at that red car,” Dylan says, pointing at the sleek red car next to the SUV.
“You like that one?” Justin asks, opening the passenger door for me and then the back door for Dylan.
“I bet it goes fast, fast,” he says, sitting in the car seat.
“I’ll take you out in it this weekend,” he says to Dylan, and Dylan squeals while I just stand here looking at him. He slams the back door and turns to me. “You ready?”
“That’s your car?” I ask him, looking at the red car. I don’t know what it is, but it just looks expensive.
“Um, yeah,” he says. “That one also.” He points at a truck and then the sleek black BMW next to it. “That one also.”
“You have four cars?” I ask him, and he puts his hand on my back and ushers me to get in the SUV.
“Does it matter?” he asks, and I want to say yes, it does, but he just continues. “It’s a car.”
“Yes,” I say. “Four. You own four cars.”
“Well, five,” he says. “I keep one at my parents’ house for when I visit.”
He smiles. “Now, let’s get Dylan home. He must be tired.”
“Smooth,” I say. “Very smooth.”
He looks at me and winks, and my stomach literally flutters. “Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet, sweetheart,” he says, closing the door.
“Mom,” Dylan calls from the back seat, and I turn around. “I really like him.”
“Yeah, baby,” I say, looking back to the front. “Me, too,” I say quietly under my breath.