“Jack—”
I poked him again, waiting until his gaze was drawn from the ground and landed on me. Those brown and gold eyes looking ashamed and remorseful made me feel awful. “What he does is not your fault. I’m not mad or hurt by you.”
His irises moved back and forth from one of mine to the other, as if trying to search for the truth I had just said out loud.
“I’m sorry I’m not sorry for butting into a conversation that wasn’t mine to get into, and I’m not sorry for throwing that drink on him, either,” I whispered for no real reason at all. “You don’t deserve that, and neither did I.”
That handsome, handsome face didn’t crack with the seriousness burned into every line of it. “I’m sorry for what he said,” he whispered back.
I raised my eyebrows. “You didn’t say it or make him say it. I’m not mad, and I hope you aren’t mad at me either.”
“Why would I be?” The corners of his mouth drew up into a smile I wasn’t positive he even knew he made.
“He’s your brother. I don’t want to come between you two, but I can’t sit there and let him talk to you like that either.” I blinked. “Was everything okay after I left?”
In the blink of an eye, Dallas’s entire body language went back to an angry one. “We had some words and he left. I don’t care what he does right now, but I’ve had it.”
I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. I didn’t want to come between his family.
He tipped his chin toward me, those pretty eyes focused on my face. “You and me are good then?” He used the same words I’d used on him so many months ago.
“We’re good, Lord Voldemort.” He made a snickering sound that had me smiling. There was something about him standing so close to me, looking down that touched me in a way I wasn’t willing to put words to. “You want to hug this out or is it against the rules? No one’s watching.” Except maybe Ginny and Trip, I realized after I said it.
Dallas was still looking down at me as his arms went around my head without another word, pulling me into his warm, tall body. My cheek found a spot between his pectorals as I wrapped my arms around the middle of his back, feeling long, hard muscles under his clothes. As much as I didn’t want to accept it or believe it, the truth was, I was in love with him. Completely. It was pointless to want to think otherwise.
And, as if he could read my mind, the arms around me tightened and he hugged me like… I wasn’t sure what. Like he’d missed me. Like he didn’t want to let me go, now or ever.
Like he felt the same thing for me that I felt for him.
Before I could stop my big mouth from running, I told him the truth bouncing around in every cell of my body. “This is nice.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Oh my God, Joshua! Would you hurry up for the love of all that is holy in this world?” I called out from the living room where I was pacing. I’d already been hollering for him for at least ten minutes, and he still hadn’t come out.
What the hell would make an eleven-year-old take so long to get ready for a tournament? He didn’t have to shave or put on makeup. He didn’t even have to shower. His stuff was already packed because I’d made sure he did it the night before. I didn’t understand how hard it was to put on his clothes and shoes.
“Five minutes!” he yelled back.
I groaned and eyed the clock on the wall. We were going to be late. There was no avoiding it now, much less five minutes from now. I didn’t know what it was about these kids that had them thinking we could teleport places, or maybe they thought I drove NASCAR on the weekends I didn’t have them and could go 200 miles an hour to get from point A to point B.
The thought had just entered my brain when I realized what I had thought. My mom had said those exact same words to me in the past when I was a kid, except I thought she’d referred to Knight Rider instead of NASCAR.
Jesus.
If that wasn’t bad enough, the night before, I’d had the same thing happen. Josh had been on the couch while I’d been folding clothes next to him, and after listening to him moan for half an hour about “how bored he was” I’d finally given him the stink eye and said, “Then start cleaning, homeboy.”
It was official. I was turning into my mom. How many times had she told me back when I was younger and had whined about not having anything to do, “ponte a limpiar”?
It was horrifying.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I cast a glance at the kid who was leaning against the wall with his tablet and sighed. He already had his backpack on the floor and his jacket on. The weather was supposed to be chilly today, and when I’d gone outside to load the cooler into the car, I confirmed it was definitely jacket weather and told both boys to be prepared. At least one of them had listened to me. “Louie—I mean, Josh, we’ll wait for you outside! Hurry up! I’m not getting a ticket because of you, and if you don’t warm up, they’re not going to let you play!”
All he bellowed back was “Fine!”
“Josh—damn—darn it, Louie, I’m sorry. Let’s wait for him outside. Maybe we’ll drive a few houses down and make him run after the car,” I told him.
The five-year-old grinned and nodded. “Yeah!”
That was way too enthusiastic and it made me laugh. “Hey, don’t forget to tell Dallas thank you for building your quarterpipe for you.”
I’d helped him, but with only one hand, I had been more like moral support. Plus, I didn’t care if he was going to give Dallas all the credit or not. He might not trust using it if he thought I had too much to do with it.
“Okay,” he agreed.
Tipping my head toward the door, we made our way outside. Thankfully, Josh was out soon afterward and was settled in by the time Louie finished buckling himself into his booster seat. I didn’t say a word for a long time as I backed out of the driveway and drove five miles over the speed limit, already imagining myself blaming Josh for why I was speeding to the cop that might pull us over.
“Can you drive faster?” the eleven-year-old asked.
Through the rearview mirror, I shot Josh a look I hoped would make him look away.
It worked.
Decked out in his Tornado uniform and surrounded by his bag and all his stuff, he was ready to go for the game that was supposed to be started in… twenty minutes. We were running so late that Trip called ten minutes after we were supposed to get there to make sure everything was fine.