“Not so much.” He gives my ponytail a tug. “Plus, it’s the basketball house, not a frat. It’ll be mostly guys from the team, the cheer squad, and significant others. Think of it more like a Royal Ball.”
Damn him for always trying to push me out of my bubble. It irks me that I can’t even use my issues with school cheerleaders as an excuse, because he knows full well I like his squadmates.
“It’ll be good practice for you.” The gleam I see twinkling in his whiskey eyes does not give me the warm fuzzies.
“Practice for what?” I ask out of the side of my mouth.
“Dealing with uncomfortable social situations.”
I don’t want to ask him what he means by that. I really don’t—but I can’t not ask.
“Whyyyyy?”
“For when you take lover boy back.” The every-single-tooth-on-display smile he flashes me is too You know I’m right for my liking.
“I hate you.” Not really.
“No you don’t.” Dammit. “And you don’t hate him either.” Fucking hell.
The room goes silent enough you could hear a mouse fart, or in this case, D’s whispered, “Oh shit.”
“I didn’t pack anything I could wear to a party.” I toss out the excuse as a last-ditch effort, ignoring the commentary on the future of my romantic life. JT knows about the…for lack of a better word, threats Liam has made. We’re going to have to talk about that at some point this weekend.
“I got you, girl. We’re basically the same size,” Rei offers, sealing my fate.
Glancing around the room, I see six Checkmate expressions looking back at me.
Whoo! Party! Party! Party! My inner cheerleader starts to do the running man.
Guess I’m going to a party.
#Chapter29
I put hella miles on the Shelby today. I knew the chance of finding Kay at home after what Carter told me was slim, but I still drove past the Taylors’ before swinging by Kay’s family home. The first was easy to rule out because there was no pink Jeep in the driveway, but at the latter, I spent twenty minutes ringing the doorbell and creeping around looking through the windows like some sort of peeping Tom.
After that, I drove around town for an hour searching for a familiar flash of pink. When that came up empty, I started to make my way back north to see if she was at The Barracks—she wasn’t—then decided to swing by my house. It was a long shot, but I was hoping maybe the twins had extra practices or clinics booked with Kay this weekend.
They didn’t, and unfortunately for me, Brantley was home and got his chance to pin me down about my “public image”. As he droned on and on about how being seen as marketable and drama-free will help me be a cut above the rest come draft time, I tuned him out until he said, “I’m not so sure this girl is the best thing for you.”
I snapped to attention after that.
“Come again?” I choke down the rush of protectiveness, reminding myself this is my stepdad I’m talking to.
Hell, Brantley’s been the only father figure I can remember having in my life since my biological dad died when I was two. After Mom, he’s the biggest supporter of my NFL aspirations. I’ve followed his advice on anything that can help give me a leg up—like joining Alpha Kappa—but Kay is a no-go area. She is mine, plain and simple.
“I know you think you love this girl, bu—”
“It’s not a thought. It’s a certainty.” I cut him off before he can finish whatever asinine comment he was about to say. I swear there are moments I wonder if deciding to use him as my agent was the best plan.
As much as he was pissing me off claiming Kay’s family drama could hurt me negatively, it was that comment that had things clicking into place for me.
Family! She would go to family.
Bette was up two weeks ago to make sure Kay was okay after the breakup. From all the stories she told me about E and Bette changing their lives for guardianship, the last thing she would want is for Bette to do what Kay would feel like was putting her life with E on hold again.
With my inner coach cracking up over how I’m a dead man when I get there, I embark on the almost-four-hour drive to Baltimore.
I make excellent time, shaving off thirty minutes from my estimated travel time, but as I look at the gates in front of E’s home, I can’t decide if it’s a good or bad thing.
I’m feeling a little bit like I’m a prince in one of those Disney movies my sister Livi loves and E is the dragon I have to face to get my princess. I should have asked Grayson how homicidal E has been feeling toward me these last two weeks before heading straight to his lair.
With a deep breath, I gather my courage and push the intercom button.
“Mason?” Bette’s voice sounds from the box.
I look for the camera that must be there and give a small wave when I spot it. “Hey Bette.”
The gate buzzes and swings open. I take that as a good sign.
Heading up the paved drive, I park near the front door, where she waits in the open doorway. She’s wearing a faded Penn State football t-shirt, knotted at the side. Based on the size, it must be one of E’s. My Hawks’ pride urges me to make a crack about wearing something from a subpar football program, but I’m probably in enough trouble and wisely keep my mouth shut.
Herkie rushes to greet me, and I bend down to love up on Kay’s favorite canine. I can’t help but notice Bette is giving me the disappointed mom look I’m familiar with from one Grace Nova-Roberts.
I hope you’re okay
