“She’s my favorite cousin,” he admits, offering me one of the veggies sticking out of the hollowed-out mini red pepper filled with a caramelized onion avocado dip that's to die for. I know because I've eaten several of these already. I grab a carrot stick. "She's always stuck to her own way, you know? Never bent to peer pressure, or worse, Garrison family pressure. She's just… she's special. And something happened that has made her question herself. I usually stay out of my female relatives' personal lives, and I don't intend to meddle now… but I don't want her with some loser who just wants to use her, you know? It's more important than before because she’s kinda vulnerable right now.”
"That's very good-hearted of you," I say when I finish chewing and swallowing the carrot and delicious dip. "But women kind of hate that shit where you control their lives. Or try to. She looks capable of making her own decisions."
"Yeah, and she was but right now…" Tate shakes his head and the look that washes over his face is intense. He looks like someone died. It makes me instantly uneasy. "Let's just say that Carlos dude better have the best of intentions because I'll make sure he regrets it if he doesn't."
"Garrison!" Hendrix our backup goalie calls out, waving Tate over to where he’s gathered with a bunch of other players, including our main goalie who is on crutches. Coach is waiting on the results of his latest MRI before he decides if he’ll have to put him on injury reserve and find another goalie.
Tate walks away to join the group. Nash takes his place beside me. I instantly grit my teeth. He doesn’t notice. “Hey. I’m probably going to Irish goodbye in a minute.”
“It’s not an Irish goodbye if you tell people you’re leaving,” I remind him and he gives me a small, sheepish smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Yeah well, you don’t count. Anyway, just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he says. “You have looked like you’re about to bite someone’s head off since you got here.”
“Sorry. Yeah. I don’t know why.” I shrug. “Resting bitch face is contagious I guess. I must have caught it from Tenley.”
I motion with my beer bottle toward Tenley who is eyeing us. Suddenly she looks like there’s too much lemon in her Corona. Nash stiffens so quickly beside me that I feel it. “You’ve been hanging with Tenley?”
“No.” I shake my head and turn to find a scowl on his face. “But why does the idea bother you? She hates you and last time I checked you didn’t think much of her.”
“I don’t. She’s bossy and overbearing and annoying,” Nash replies and crosses his arms. As usual, there’s no drink in his hand. Nash only drinks, like, twice a year. Three times if we win the Stanley Cup. He doesn’t like to lose control. “And trust me, I tried to see past that. In Vegas we…”
I lift an eyebrow and hold my breath. Is he about to tell me he hooked up with Tenley? He can’t. He wouldn’t. That would violate the team code, one because she’s Tate’s sister but also because of Nash's own strict personal rules about not dating. Of course just because he hooked up with her doesn't mean they're dating. But then that would violate another of his personal rules—no one-night stands.
“What? No. Do not look at me like that. I did not sleep with her or anything.” His voice is a heated whisper and his eyes dart all over the place, making sure no one overhears. “We hung out. I tried to like her. She’s just… an emotional bully. I don’t like her. And if you were dating another person I don’t like it would be hard. I’m sick of stuff between us being hard.”
“Well, don’t worry. I was simply making a joke about Ten,” I reply. “And you don’t have to worry about me dating anyone. I don’t do that anymore.”
“Right. Mr. Random Hookup guy.” Nash nods. “Keeping your options open.”
I don’t like the way he says that. It slices into all my insecurities related to him like a hot knife through butter. I bristle. “Well, I think I’ll Irish goodbye it myself. I’m in a pissy mood, as my face reflects, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I put my mostly empty beer down on the nearest table and walk away from Nash, and most of the party, finding my way inside. There's a powder room off the front hall but I'm betting someone is in it so I make my way upstairs. I walked here, which means I have to walk home so I better drain the bladder first.
I take the stairs two at a time, headed for the main bathroom nestled between the two spare bedrooms, across from what used to be Anne-Marie’s office. When I get upstairs I come face-to-face with Olivia who looks sweaty and disheveled as she slips out of one of the guest rooms.
Our eyes lock and she freezes. “Oh. Hey.”
Some switch I didn’t know I had flips inside me. I’m suddenly raging with jealousy. “Are you… with Carlos? Am I catching you…?”
Her face turns bright red, probably as red as the fiery rage that is burning in my chest. I know this makes me an insane asshole but the idea that she snuck up here to fuck—or even fool around with—that guy, while I was downstairs… is making me crazy.
She doesn’t say anything so I grab the handle of the door she just closed and open it. I expect to see a half-naked Carlos in there and my fist balls at my side. Am I going to hit him? No. But I could and Tate would probably thank me. After all, he’s worried about Olivia and wants her protected.
But inside the bedroom is nothing but toys. Tons and tons of toys including a giant wooden truck. Wait… it’s not a real truck. It’s a bed shaped like a truck and a tiny little blond human is asleep in it. Dylan.
There’s no one else in the room. I turn back to Olivia, feeling so stupid I’m speechless. She reaches for the door, closing her hand over mine on the handle and pulling it shut. "Carlos left. I came up here to tire Dylan out so he would go to sleep. You really think I would sneak up here in a house filled with people, my family, andyou, and fool around with some random guy?”
“He’s not a random guy,” I argue back. “He’s in your class and you seem to like him. And he definitely likes you.”
“We’re friends and we work together at our teaching internship,” Olivia says.
“But he likes you,” I argue. “It’s written all over his face.”
“So then I must be up here fucking him?” Olivia counters and her boldness is a shock. A shock that wakes up my dick because it’s hot to see her get riled up enough to have a potty mouth with me. “Because I fucked you more than once so I must be ready to fuck whoever else wanders my way now, right?”
Oh fuck. She thinks I'm calling her a whore. I shake my head gently take her wrist and tug her away from Dylan's door. I don't know much about toddlers but I do know he's started learning words and I don't think anything we're saying should be added to his vocabulary.
“No. Of course not. But I wouldn’t judge you if you did want to sleep with someone else.” I inhale sharply and exhale slowly. “I’m sorry. I just… I saw you with him and I didn’t like it.”