Chapter Twenty-Six
Twenty-Six
Jack
“And you’re sure I was invited?”
I roll my eyes even as I reach to give her hand a squeeze, letting it go just as quickly before Bea comes to the door. “Yes, for the last time, you were invited.”
“I just feel like it’s weird that I’m here.”
“It would be weirder if you weren’t, considering you let me eat you out an hour ago to calm your nerves.”
She smacks my arm. “Don’t talk about it! No one can know that—”
The door swings open to my aunt Bea in all her gray-haired glory—her short stature something that comes from my mom’s side of the family. Doesn’t stop her from looking up at me with a fierce expression.
“You’re late,” she grumbles.
I shrug. “Blame my date.”
“Roommate,” Abby corrects, and I notice her face heating when I peer down at her. “Just roommate.”
Bea eyes us both with slight suspicion in her eyes, and because I am, in fact, a little shit, I throw my arm around Abby’s shoulders, giving her a pout. “I can’t believe you’re not going to claim me in front of my aunt.”
“Do you really want me to hurt you right here on her porch?”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I say with a gasp. “You and I both know you lov—”
Ian’s head pops up around the doorframe. “What did I tell you about torturing my sister?”
“We’re best friends now, actually,” I tell him seriously. “Didn’t you know?”
Abby looks like she might want to stomp on my foot a little, but underneath that, there’s a slight glimmer in her eyes, like she also kind of wants to laugh, and that’s pretty much where I live with her. I’m content with that.
I reluctantly let go of her when her brother reaches to pull her in for a hug, dragging her into the entryway as Bea steps aside to gesture me in after them.
“He’s not driving you bananas, is he?” Ian asks.
Abby waves him off. “No more than usual.”
“I resent all of this, you know,” I grouse.
Abby turns to flash me a smile, and it’s enough to dissipate any bitterness from their teasing. “But I thought we were best friends?”
“Maybe I’m rethinking it.”
Bea huffs beside us. “Can we all move inside so I can close the door?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I tell her. I sniff the air. “Something smells good.”
“Don’t even think about sneaking bites before dinner,” Bea warns.
I grin. “Who, me?”
“Go help your sister set the table,” she scolds.
I notice Ian and Abby still catching up in the hall, and I decide to leave them to it and do what Bea says as I make my way into the cramped dining room that doubles as Bea’s sewing room.
Dee is setting out place mats as she avoids the ancient sewing machine at the opposite end of the long table, flashing me a smile when she sees me enter.
“You’re late,” she says.
I roll my eyes. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”
“Did you manage to drag Abby along?”
“Yeah,” I tell her, moving to the attached kitchen to grab the stack of plates from the counter. “She’s in there with Ian.”
“Good,” Dee says with a relieved sigh. “She needs to get out more. I swear, all that girl does is work and sleep.”
I have to suppress a smirk at that; I can think of plenty of other things Abby has been doing of late, most of them involving me.
Not that I can tell Dee that. Even if I kind of want to.
It’s really strange to keep something from her, revenge on her and Ian be damned.
I can’t think of a single thing in my life I’ve ever refrained from telling her, and it feels odd to do so now.
Still, Abby hasn’t quite come to terms with the whole girlfriend proposition, and until she does, I know it’s better to continue to keep things quiet.
“So have you driven Abby crazy yet?”
My lips purse. “Why does everyone assume it would be me? Maybe Abby is a terrible roommate.”
“Well?” Dee arches a brow. “Is she?”
“No,” I grumble. “She’s perfectly agreeable.”
Especially when she’s in my bed, I think wistfully.
I spread the plates out on the mats Dee has sat down, following her around the table until it’s set. “How did your talk with Ms. Gulley go?”
Dee’s entire face lights up, her smile so bright it makes my chest tight. “It was great. They think we’ll be able to finalize things by the end of the month.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to be a parent,” I marvel. “It doesn’t feel like you’re old enough.”
Dee laughs. “Mom and Dad were younger than me when they had you.”
“I guess that’s true,” I concede. “Still. Feels weird.”
“You’re going to love being an uncle,” she points out.
“Of course I am,” I tell her. “I get to spoil the shit out of the kid and send him straight back to you.”
Dee’s expression softens. “He could use a lot of spoiling, I think.”
Her words make me think of Abby—which, what doesn’t make me think of Abby these days—back to when I told her something similar. That she was due for some spoiling in her life. It has a smile spreading across my face.
“And what about you?” Dee asks. “How is your arm?”
My smile dissipates, and I’m feeling a little guarded now. “It’s fine.”
“Fine,” Dee echoes, giving me a stern look. “Spoken like a true liar.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not lying. It’s no better or worse than it usually is.”
Which isn’t entirely true, actually, but I can’t tell Dee that.
She’ll just worry. There was an incident at the last game where the other team slammed me into the boards, and truth be told…
The thing has been kind of achy ever since.
I don’t tell her that I scheduled a follow-up with the doctor—haven’t told anyone yet—mainly because I’m dreading the entire thing, worrying what the doctor might have to say, weeks after he told me I should stop playing altogether.
Since I have done everything except take his advice, the dull throbbing in my arm I can’t seem to shake is definitely worrisome.
“What are we talking about?” Ian asks, stepping into the dining room with Abby in tow.
Dee narrows her eyes in my direction. “Jack’s arm.”
“Ah.” Ian looks conflicted, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’ve been meaning to ask how you were after the game the other day. That was a nasty hit you took.”
Abby immediately perks up, her brow furrowing. “Hit?”
“It’s not a big deal,” I say defensively. “Just got pushed into the boards. It was nothing serious.”
Her gaze lingers on mine in that way of hers—the one that tells me she can see right through my bullshit—but she blessedly says nothing, simply pressing her lips together instead.
I know that later she’ll have questions, but I busy myself with setting out the last plate, ignoring the conversation altogether.
“Are we ready to eat yet?” I ask the group. “I’m starving.”
Bea snorts as she shuffles into the room, moving to the kitchen to start uncovering dinner. “When aren’t you hungry?”
“Why is it that every time I come to visit, you feel the need to pick on me?”
“It’s how I show love,” Bea says flatly.
I roll my eyes. “Sure it is.”
Abby steps behind Bea to quietly ask if she can help bring anything to the table, and it makes something pinch in my chest—seeing her in this space with all the people I love. I think she could fit here, if she wanted to. I want her to fit here. It’s all I can seem to think about lately.
Abby carries a plate of rolls to the table, giving me a stern look when she passes. “We’re going to talk about this ‘hit’ later,” she murmurs, low enough so only I can hear.
I wince, giving her a sheepish smile. Her answering frown doesn’t spark confidence, but I know she’s just worried about me.
Maybe if I asked, she might even agree to go to the doctor with me, so I don’t have to go by myself like the coward I am.
Maybe if I get bad news, it won’t feel so devastating if she’s there with me.
I shake away the thoughts of the doctor, deciding it’s a worry for tomorrow me.
“This is really good,” Abby says, taking another bite.
Bea gives her a sweet smile. “Thank you, hon.”
“It really is,” I agree, tearing into another roll.
“It oughta be,” Bea laughs. “It’s your, what? Third helping?”
“Gotta keep those hockey muscles big and strong,” I tease.
Abby rolls her eyes surreptitiously, and I reach under the table to squeeze her thigh, enjoying the way she jolts a little. It earns me a glare for my trouble, and I just blow a kiss back at her, grateful that Ian and Dee are now deep in conversation with Bea about Kyle’s impending adoption.
“We just signed a lease on a new apartment,” Dee is telling her.
I frown. “You did? You didn’t say.”
“It was just yesterday,” Ian tells me. “We figured we’d tell everyone tonight.”
“It’s got three bedrooms!” Dee says excitedly. “So Kyle can have his own space and then we can use the other for a guest room.”
“Or a baby’s room,” Ian says nonchalantly. “Someday.”
“I don’t want to think about the two of you making babies,” I say. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re celibate.”
Ian rolls his eyes. “I would love to see you interact with a baby, actually.”
“Hey,” I say indignantly. “Are you saying I wouldn’t be awesome at it?”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve referred to Kyle as ‘the kid’ ever since we told you we were going to bring him home,” Ian points out. “I don’t see you flourishing with an infant.”
“I’m told I have a very gentle touch,” I argue, sitting up a little straighter and pointedly keeping my eyes off Abby. “People have raved about it, actually.”
I feel Abby’s fingers at my thigh, giving me a sharp pinch that I have to pretend doesn’t make me want to yelp.
“Gag me,” Dee says. “I have a feeling Jack just made this into a sex thing.”
“When is he not turning everything into a sex thing?” Ian asks.
“Fair point,” Dee agrees.
I narrow my eyes at both of them. “I hate this whole teamwork thing you have going on now. It feels like I’m being ganged up on.”
“You could do with being taken down a peg,” Abby chimes in.
I press my hand to my chest, looking stricken. “Et tu, Brute?”
“Like you don’t know it’s true,” she laughs with a shrug.