Gage smirked. “For now.”
“Between the cutesy nicknames and PDAs, you two make me want to puke!” Sarah barked.
Gage and Lily turned wide eyes toward her.
She grinned. “I meant puke in a good way.”
Gage’s phone rang, and he stepped into the living room and answered.
Lily’s eyes took in their drinks. “Are you guys celebrating something?”
Sarah tugged her fingers through her hair. “No, more like burying something.”
Lily’s expression morphed into what Sarah could only describe as motherly. She reached for Sarah and pulled her into a hug. “I don’t know what happened, and it doesn’t matter. I just want you to know we’re glad you came here.”
That simple act made Sarah’s chest squeeze and wedged fresh tears in her throat. Stop it!
Lily patted her back, then held her apart. “You gonna be okay?”
Sarah nodded as the waterworks spilled over. “Eventually.”
“Well, in the meantime, you’re coming to the game with Daisy and me tomorrow night. We may not be able to take your mind off all your troubles, but it’ll be a distraction.”
“I don’t think I’d be very good comp—”
Gage poked his head into the kitchen. “That was T.J. Wyatt’s birthday is tomorrow, so we’re having a surprise dinner after the game.”
“That sounds fun.” Lily bobbed her curly head. “Doesn’t it, Sarah?”
Sarah opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Gage barreled into the quiet. “No staying at home alone, Sar. I already bought you a ticket, and I told T.J. to count you in for dinner.”
“But, Gage—”
“It’s better to sulk among friends than to sulk at home alone. Another pearl of Yoda wisdom for you.”
Sarah relented with an exaggerated eye-roll. “Oh, well, since you put it that way, Yoda … How can a girl say no? It sounds like a blast.” Not.
Gage shot her a fake glare right before he and Lily said in unison, “It’ll be good for you.”
What was good for her was to crawl under a rock and never come out. Unfortunately, that option wasn’t available. Sarah sighed and finished her drink. Maybe all the yelling in the arena would drown out her mother’s inner voice telling her what a moron she was for putting on rose-colored glasses and letting a man blindside her. She hadn’t told Gage everything—she wasn’t ready to. She might never be. Admitting her epic mistake would also mean admitting that their mother was right.
Chapter 4
Oh Hell No
That evening, Sarah hovered uselessly while Lily manned the stove, Daisy set the table, and Gage shredded cheese. What could Sarah do to help? God, she hated being an intruder in this little family’s sweet routine, contributing nothing while sucking up the scant spare space in their crammed house.
Her phone rang, and when she checked the screen, she suppressed a groan and thumbed the call off. She’d been dodging her mom for days, sending texts saying she was busy with work and would call later. If she didn’t call soon, she ran the risk of Nola Nelson flying to Seattle and organizing search teams.
With a sigh, Sarah plopped into a kitchen chair and started folding paper napkins into fancy shapes.
Daisy executed some rapid-fire sneezing, and Gage craned his head over his shoulder. “You okay, kiddo?”
Nodding her head, she rubbed her eyes. They were bright red.
Gage turned back to his shredding. “So has anyone been following this virus in the news?”
“COVID-19,” Sarah chirped, feeling suddenly helpful. “I heard about it on the radio as I drove cross-country. Started somewhere in China. Wuhan, I think.”
“Yeah, well, it’s popping up in South Korea, Italy, and Iran, to name a few, and it just showed up in the US.” Gage flicked his gaze to Sarah. “In Washington state.”
Her eyes widened. “What? How did I miss that?”
Gage gave her a grim nod. “I don’t know much about it, but there’s talk the World Health Organization might declare a pandemic.”
Lily stopped what she was doing and faced him. “Which means what, exactly?”
He shrugged. “I’m not really sure.”
Lily’s blue eyes popped with something akin to panic.
“There are only a few reported cases in Colorado, sweetheart,” Gage soothed. “Mostly they’re on the west coast, so we’re okay.”
When Sarah climbed into Daisy’s Pepto-Bismol room that night, she surfed the Internet and read what she could about the virus. Honestly, what was the fuss about? It was the flu. During flu season. People got sick. Some died. Gage, Lily, and Daisy were healthy, and so was she. They’d be fine.
“I can’t believe you fucking beat me!” Quinn set the video controller down on Wyatt’s coffee table.
Hunter sat beside him on the couch, his voice laced with smug condescension. “Admit it. I’m that much better.”
“No, you’re not. But I guess even a blind squirrel finds an acorn once in a while,” Quinn groused.
He rose and took his empty beer bottle into the kitchen, where Wyatt was finishing off a plate of tortilla chips covered in orange goo that looked like plasticized neon.
“Dude, how can you eat that shit?” Quinn pointed his finger down his throat, faking a gag.
“Until I find me a Playboy centerfold who cooks like Betty Crocker, this is it.”
Quinn couldn’t stop himself. “Oh, you mean like McMurphy’s ex? What was her name? The one who caught him boinking her best friend?”
“Fuck you!” Hunter snapped.
Wyatt shook his head. “Jesus Christ, you’re a jackass, Hads.” Then he offered up an orange-toothed grin. “My perfect centerfold Betty is gonna take a while to find. Meanwhile, I’ll have hella fun auditioning candidates for the part.”
“Speaking of which,” Hunter stood and joined them, “you’re clubbing with Wyatt and me tonight, right?”
“Nope. My head’s still pounding from last night, and practice about killed me today. I wanna be ready for tomorrow night’s game.”
“Oh, come on, you big pussy.” Hunter shoved his arm, and Quinn bit back the urge to flatten him.
Wyatt licked his thumb and chuckled. “Hunts needs you there, Hads. Only you can wheel the ladies and spin one his way. Otherwise,
