Chapter 3
Arianna
“Red or white, Ma?” I hold up the two bottles of wine in question for her to see even though it’s her collection that I’m raiding.
“Hmm, while that is my favorite red, do the white since we’re having chicken.”
I nod, placing the red bottle back in its designated spot, and close the wine fridge before heading to the cabinet where my parents keep the wine glasses.
While I fill our glasses, not stopping at the halfway mark since that would require us to refill sooner, I listen to my mom update me about the ski trip in Vermont they just returned from.
“We ended up having dinner with the sweetest man! Apparently, the poor guy’s car broke down and he was stuck there. Luckily, he had business to do in town anyway, but oh the guy was a charmer. I tried finding out if he was single for you but—”
“Mom!” I sputter, almost dropping the glasses in my hand. “I don’t need you playing matchmaker with strangers!”
“Lucky for you, he said he wasn’t interested in dating,” she says while rolling her eyes, whether at me or at the idea of not dating remains to be seen.
I scoff, bringing her a glass of wine before rounding the kitchen island to sit on one of the stools across from her.
As I take a giant sip, my mom pushes a block of cheese and a knife in front of me.
Even when it’s just us, the woman is all about having something to munch on before dinner is served.
I get to work, slicing without needing to be told.
“How was everything for you while we were gone?” she asks, expertly cutting into an avocado to make her fresh guacamole dip.
“Busy. I somehow managed to get ahead, though, so that’s a win. I still have to go through the inquiry form for the week, but it should be—”
“Sweetie, tell me you did something other than work for the last two weeks?” The concern in my mom’s voice makes me bristle.
“Yes,” I snap, then take a deep breath and reach for my wine. “Viv and I went to Landon’s opening game.”
“And?” She raises a brow, and I know what she’s asking.
I love my mom, but I will never understand why she feels the need to be so nosy about my love life.
Or rather, my nonexistent love life. Considering I have always told her the second there was something to share, I don’t get why she continues to be pushy.
Guilt settles low in my stomach at the fact that I never told her about Dean. In my defense, there was nothing to share. At least nothing that I wanted to tell my mother.
It’s one thing to tell her how someone is making me feel all mushy and happy. It’s another thing to tell my mom that a man is railing me six ways to Sunday and making me see the stars every chance we get.
Besides, it’s been months since Dean and I hooked up. The fling ran its course. Meaning, there’s truly nothing to tell her.
“And we had a girls’ night at my place over the weekend. Aside from that, no, I haven’t done much. I’ve been busy working, Ma.”
She sighs, moving on to dicing up an onion. “All work and no play leads to a very boring life.”
I shake my head. “Trust me, my life is anything but boring. Everyone goes through busy periods. You don’t say anything when Landon does nothing but work for eight months out of the year.”
“That you know of. You’re not around for every single conversation between me and your brother.”
Damn it, she has a point. Maybe she is hounding my brother the same way and he never said anything.
Before I can think of a response, the sound of the front door opening and closing interrupts my mom’s interrogation. Landon calls out his greeting and I straighten in my seat, ignoring the way my heart kicks up at the idea of seeing Dean trailing after my brother.
Only when he enters the kitchen, it’s just him.
Painting on a smile, I turn just enough to give Landon a half hug.
“Sup, dork?” I say and he laughs.
“Not much, loser,” Landon answers, snagging a slice of cheese from in front of me before smiling at our mom.
“Hey, Ma.”
“Where’s Dean?” She answers with a frown, glancing around him as if the man in question will appear.
From the second that Dean joined my brother’s team, the goalie was viewed as one of us. Landon brought him by for dinner one time, and just like that, Mom told him he better come the following week. He fit in with us as if he was right where he was meant to be.
And once my mom learned that he’d lost his entire family when he was seventeen? There was no getting rid of him. Not that any of us wanted to.
“Ouch, gonna ignore the sting of being ignored by my own mother.” He shakes his head, heading to the fridge, and pulls out a beer as he answers, “Dean got a puppy a few days ago and didn’t want to leave her alone just yet.”
I whip toward my brother and fire off questions. “A puppy? What kind? How old? Do you have pictures?”
At the same time my mom says, “And he didn’t think to bring the puppy here?”
Landon shrugs, answering my mom first, “He didn’t want to assume you’d be okay with a puppy in your house.”
“Gee, if only there was a way for one of you to message me and ask.” Mom levels him with a glare and pointedly looks at her phone where it sits on the counter behind her.
My brother at least has the common sense to appear sheepish. “I…didn’t think of that. Sorry, I’ll make sure to tell him that his and the pup’s attendances are required next time.”
He finally turns to me, pulling his phone from his pocket. “It’s a shepherd mix. I believe she’s only twelve weeks old. Her name is Cora and yes, I have a picture.”
Landon passes me his phone and I gasp at the photo of the sweetest little angel. Her face is mostly black on top with light brown on her jaw and up the sides. Her ears are floppy, almost comically big compared to her head, but she’s adorable.
“Ma, look at this face,” I say, flipping the screen to show her.
She scowls harder. “Well, now I’m even more mad at him for not bringing her.”
“I’ll make sure he knows just how upset you both are that he chose to withhold puppy cuddles.” Landon laughs, plucking his phone from my hand.
Needing something to do with my hands, I grab the knife and block of cheese to finish cutting just as my dad comes in through the back sliding door.
“Hey, kiddos.” He beams, setting the empty plate and tongs on the kitchen counter before coming to my side, where he wraps me up in a side hug. “When did you two get here?”
He lets me go, moving to give Landon the same hug.
“I’ve been here for a while,” I tell him as I add the rest of the cheese to the tray Mom put in front of me.
“I just got here,” Landon says.
Dad nods and I smirk when I notice him looking around the kitchen in confusion.
“Where’s Dean?” Dad finally asks and I bite back a laugh as Landon goes through a similar explanation with our father.
With half my glass of wine already gone, I don’t let myself overthink anything as I pull out my phone and open my text messages.
Dean and I rarely text outside of the many different group chats we are in together, and I ignore the nerves that bubble in my gut when I notice the last time we “talked” was just after they lost the championship last season.
Me: FYI, everyone is very upset at your choices right now.
Dean: Shit…
Me: YUP. Next time you better bring little Miss Cora AND mom’s favorite whiskey.
Dean: And what do I need to do to make it up to you?
“Ari, can you grab my glass of wine for me?” Mom asks, making me jump in my seat.
My phone drops to the counter as I look up, noticing my dad and brother are now gone.
Mom raises an eyebrow, glancing between my phone and my face before shrugging.
I don’t miss the smirk she fails to hide as she lifts the tray of cheese, crackers, and dip.
“The boys want to eat outside. I’ll carry this, if you can just get my wine for me.”
“Yeah.” I shove to my feet, deciding to leave my phone in here as I gather both our drinks and follow my mom out to the back deck. Their house has always been my favorite place to escape to. Having been born and raised in the desert heat of Arizona, the beach front is a welcome change.
When Landon got traded to the Bobcats Hockey team, I was going into my senior year of high school.
However, my parents did not hold back on making it known just how ready they were to move.
Even I could see how much it killed them not to be able to attend frequent games for my brother.
Mostly because I felt the same. We’ve always supported each other as a family, so when Landon left, it felt like something was missing.
Up until that point, I hadn’t really thought about where I wanted to go to college, but seeing how much my parents struggled with being far apart, it made my choices easier.
I secretly applied to two of the colleges here in Florida that had good art programs and waited until I was accepted to tell them all over the holidays.
It was still nice that the school I ended up picking was over four hours away, so it felt like the best of both worlds.
I could drive up to Tampa for a weekend game or to hang out with my parents while still feeling like I had space as a college student.
It wasn’t even until two years ago that I decided to move closer to Tampa.
It was a relief to find a house just outside the city. While I love my family, I knew if I was close enough, they would all show up unannounced. At least with living forty-five minutes away, there’s always a heads-up. We’re close, but a girl needs privacy.
While we dive right into yapping about everything under the sun, my mind continues to drift back to the last message from Dean.
Was he flirting? Or am I reading too much into it because we haven’t seen each other outside of weekly dinners?
Yeah, I saw him briefly after the opening season game, but those interactions were impossible to get a read on.
After the second or third time of hooking up, we both agreed that if it were to happen again, it couldn’t happen at my parents’ house.
It was one thing to sneak around with my brother’s best friend, but doing so under my parents’ roof felt wrong.
So we’ve kept it to neutral grounds like the bar or his place… or that one time at the arena.
But if that’s truly the case and we’re silently slipping back into how we used to be, why can’t I help but hope that he was flirting with me?
By the time dinner is done and our parents are sending us off with enough leftovers to feed us for the week, I still haven’t brought myself to answer Dean.
The entire drive back to my house is spent brainstorming the perfect response that is both flirty and normal.
That way, if he wasn’t flirting, I can plead the fifth and say neither was I. And if he was…
An hour later, I plop onto my bed, finally open the text message chain, and hold my breath as I type out my response.
Me: You know what I like