Chapter 13
Tessa
“You seem lost in thought.”
Slater’s words bring me back to the present, and I realize we’ve stopped. I face the house and take a breath. “I just hope I’m ready for this.”
“For what?”
I keep a completely serious face. “For the house of stars.”
“The house of stars?” he repeats slowly.
I nod emphatically. “Yes. That’s what I named it, and I’m keeping it.” I open my door and hop down.
“Why couldn’t it be called something cool?” he asks as he comes around the front of his truck.
“It is cool,” I argue.
“You have nothing to worry about here,” he says right before he opens the front door.
I scoff. “So says one of the members of the house of stars.”
He shakes his head, and I stifle a laugh.
“Come on,” he all but growls at me. I follow him inside the house, wondering if I really, truly am ready for this experience—all my favorite college players in one house.
I follow him towards what I think is the kitchen and see my bestie standing at the stove.
“Hey, Bestie!”
She turns around all smiles. “Tessa, you made it.”
“I made it to the house of stars,” I tell her, looking around.
“The what?” she asks.
“I named this house the house of stars.”
“Hmmm. I just call it the house on Briarwood Court.” I consider her words, even as she continues. “But I like yours much better.”
“That’s because it’s totally an appropriate name for this place,” I explain. I glance around to make sure none of the guys are around and drop my voice. “Okay, what is the deal with the sports bra? I texted you a hundred times, but you never texted back.”
She winces. “Oh, sorry. I was busy and haven’t checked it since I got back.”
“So, why in the world would I need to wear a sports bra?”
She glances at me. “Did you?”
I roll my eyes. “Well, my bestie told me to; so, I did. But there had better be a really good reason why I’m wearing this awful contraption.
You know, we can put a man on the moon, create a completely new world on Mars, and yet, nobody can figure out how to make a sports bra that doesn’t strangle you when trying to put it on. ”
Evie laughs. “You just need one of those ones that zips up the front, and problem solved.”
My eyes widen. “They have those?”
She gives me a concerned look. “Girl, when was the last time you bought a sports bra?”
“Okay, so I don’t buy them all that often. I think the one I'm wearing is from like seventh or eighth grade.”
Evie’s eyes nearly bug out of her head. “Seriously? And it still fits?”
“Oh, yeah. I matured very quickly. Seventh grade was not kind to me.”
Her eyes drop to my chest, and I can’t stifle my laugh. “Not all of us are a very nearly A cup,” I tell her.
She narrows her eyes at me. “I am not a nearly A,” she whispers harshly to me.
I can’t help it; I’m on a roll. “It’s okay; having small boobs is not something to be ashamed of.”
Evie sputters. “I do not...” She takes a breath and waves her wooden spoon at me. “You’re messing with me, and I’m not going to fall for it.”
I grin at her. “Seriously, though. Why did I have to dress this way? I had a super cute top I was going to wear.”
She eyes my sweatshirt. “Tess, you’re always wearing Barracuda stuff anyway.”
“Exactly, which is why I wanted to wear something nice today.”
“Anyway,” Evie cuts in. “The reason I told you to dress that way is because we’re going to play—”
“No, don’t say it,” I cut in. “Please tell me we’re not playing sports.”
“We are,” Zane says walking into the kitchen and over to Evie. He kisses her and turns to look at me. “Hey, Tessa.”
“Hi, Zane. What do you mean we’re playing sports?”
Zane grabs a water bottle from the fridge. “We do every Sunday.”
Quint walks into the kitchen next. “Hey, Tessa.” Zane tosses him a water bottle. “I heard you were joining us today.”
I start shaking my head. “Nope, you heard wrong. Whatever it is you are or are not doing, I won’t be doing it.”
Quint grins. “What are we not doing?”
“Any of it,” I respond. He laughs, just as Slater walks into the kitchen. His eyes meet mine.
“Slate, your girl says she’s not doing any of it.”
“Oh,” I interrupt, feeling my face turn red but needing to correct the mistake. “I’m not his girl.”
“What are you not doing?” Slater asks, coming to stand next to me.
“Playing whatever sport you’re going to play,” I tell him, trying to not sound so out of breath but failing miserably.
Reid walks into the kitchen next, and it’s official. There are too many people in this kitchen. Specifically, too many athletes. I find Evie in the chaos. “Can I help with anything?”
“No, we just ordered out today. All we have to do is take the lids off.”
“I’ll help.” I need something to do with myself. I start taking the foil lids off the large catering foil pans. “That’s a lot of chicken.”
Evie laughs. “Have you forgotten how much these guys put away?” She opens another pan filled with onions and peppers and another filled with rice. There are containers filled with tortillas, limes, shredded cheese, sour cream, and fresh salsa and guac.
“That smells so good; let’s eat,” Quint says, grabbing a plate. Zane smacks his plate out of his hand. “What was that for?” Quint asks.
“Girls first,” Zane says, handing a plate first to Evie and then to me.
“Really?” Quint whines.
“Do you have no manners?” Reid asks.
“Nope, not when I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving,” Reid reminds him.
“I know.” Quint pats his biceps. “I’m a growing boy.” Instead of filling a plate, Evie wanders over to the fridge. “Evie,” Quint whines. “I’m starving.”
Zane smacks the back of his head, and Evie laughs. “Just a minute, Quint. I just need,” she pauses, looking for something in the fridge. “This,” she says triumphantly, holding up a bottle of sauce.
Quint groans. “Seriously, that sauce again?”
Evie grins. “It’s my new favorite. I just discovered it.”
“What is it?” I ask curiously.
“It’s Guy Fieri’s secret sauce, and it’s amazing! I put it on everything.”
“Literally, everything,” Quint says behind her back.
“Leave my girl alone,” Zane growls at him.
Evie finally starts making a plate, and I follow after her.
I go quickly, so Quint doesn’t murder me.
To no one’s surprise, he starts filling his plate right behind me.
When I finish, I look over at the small kitchen table, wondering where everyone is going to sit.
“Here, Tess,” Evie pats the spot next to her.
I wisely don’t take that seat, because I know Zane will want it.
I end up sitting across from her. Quint moves to take the last available seat, but Slater slides into it, beating him to it.
“What about us?” Quint asks, looking like a dejected puppy. Slater just gives him a look that Quint must read all too well because he caves immediately. “Fine. Rejects out here, Reid.”
“I can sit out there,” I offer, starting to grab my plate.
Slater puts a hand on my arm. “He’s fine.”
“You guys need a bigger table,” I offer.
Evie nods. “Yeah, I keep telling Zane that. We need to find one on the marketplace.”
“And put it where?” Zane asks.
Evie shrugs. “I don’t know, but we need to figure it out.”
“We will,” Zane reassures her.
I take a bite of my fajita and promptly lose about half of it out the other end. I moan and finish chewing. “These are so good. Where are they from?”
“Aren’t they the best?” Evie asks. “They’re from a Mexican place around the corner. We get them all the time now.”
Zane, Evie, and I keep the conversation flowing easily, but I can’t help but notice that Slater stays quiet.
I eye him a few times, but he doesn’t say anything.
He just continues to eat. Quint and Reid both come back in for refills.
When Evie and Zane get up to refill their plates, I knock Slater’s knee with mine.
His eyes jump to mine. “You good?” His brows knit together. “You’re so quiet,” I add.
“Slate’s always quiet,” Evie says, overhearing my comment.
It’s my turn to frown. “No, he’s not.”
“Well, that must just be around you because he’s always quiet here,” Evie says.
I eye Slater. “Is that true?”
He shrugs. Before I have time to dwell on it for too long, Zane pushes back from the table. “What sport is it today?” he asks.
“Basketball,” Reid says from the other room.
Evie frowns. “I think it’s football.”
“Actually, it’s soccer,” Slater says with a smirk.
Evie groans. “Really?”
Zane seems to think about it a moment. “Yeah, he’s right. It’s soccer today.”
I start picking up my plate and look down at Slater’s empty plate. “Are you done?” At his nod, I grab his plate and mine and take them to the sink. He stands up behind me and starts picking up the leftover food.
“Thirty minutes,” Zane calls out.
“For what?” I ask Slater when he walks over to the sink to drop a bowl off.
“Until we play soccer.”
“Oh, that’s great. I can’t wait to watch.”
Evie laughs, but I ignore it. “You don’t get to watch,” Slater says with a smirk.
“Oh, but I do,” I argue as I wash our plates.
“House rules. Anybody who eats here on Sunday plays sports,” Zane calls out.
I scowl. “Well, that would have been nice to know before I ate.”
“Would you have skipped that meal?” Evie asks doubtfully.
“No, but I would have considered it.”
Evie and Zane laugh, and Slater smirks at me. He nudges me aside. “I’ve got this.”
I nudge him right back. “Actually, I was here first.”
“Yeah, well you’re our guest; you don’t need to do the dishes.”
Quint laughs behind us. “Since when do you do the dishes, Slate?”
Slate turns around and throws water at him.
Quint blinks and wipes the water off his face.
Then in a move so fast, I don’t see it coming, he grabs a water bottle and launches the contents of it at Slater.
The problem is—Slater is an athlete. He’s fast. I, however, am not.
Slater spins out of the way of the water, leaving me to take a huge spray of water to the face.
Quint laughs. “Sorry, Tess. That wasn’t supposed to be for you.
I was aiming for—” I grab the bowl of water from the sink and throw all of it at him.
He blinks as water drips off his face, and I laugh out loud.
Slater turns towards me with a grin and high fives me.
I’m feeling really good until Quint moves.
I shriek when he picks up the container of sour cream.
“Slater!” I shout and duck behind him. He moves to get out of the way of incoming sour cream and ends up backing into me.
I start to fall backwards, but his hand shoots out catching me and holding me up.
“Enough,” Zane says, taking the sour cream from Quint. “Go get the game set up.”
Quint only grins at us and then leaves the kitchen. Slater turns to me. “You good?”
I smile broadly. “Yes.” Together, Slater, Zane, Evie, and I pick up what’s left of the food. Zane and Evie leave to go get ready for the game, and I finish putting the last dish in the dishwasher. “Do I really have to play?” I ask Slater.
“Yeah.”
I groan. “Slater, do I look like I play sports?”