Page 46 of The Fall Out

“Seems unfair that I don’t get a handicap, since you and Chris are both the athletes and I’m not.”

Dad chuckled and spun his racket. “You asked to play.”

“It’s better than sitting around and staring at the walls.” Leave it to my sister to always have a reason to complain. “And Chris made us come here.”

I’d had to make an appearance at Boston General’s pediatric ward yesterday, thanks to Hannah, so I couldn’t get to New York for the holiday.

My mind-reading father eyed me and cocked a brow. “Don’t.”

I put both hands in the air. “I didn’t say anything, Pop.”

“I see it in your eyes.” He shook his head as he served and sent the little white ball across the net. “You’re blaming the Revs for the hospital trip yesterday.”

My sister missed again. She was almost as bad at table tennis as Emerson was.

“Well—”

“No.” He pointed his racket at me and frowned. “Had you not acted like the backside of a mule all season, you wouldn’t be doing positive publicity in the offseason. Remember that next year.”

I sighed and forced my shoulders to relax. He had a point. Since I was still attending her weekly course on not acting like a dick to the media, it made sense that she’d insist I was the one to go. Fun stuff. “Okay, Pop.”

My sister dropped the ball onto the table and swung but missed. “Thank goodness Jake isn’t here. He’d have a field day with this. God, I suck.”

“You don’t.” I crossed my arms and reined in the anger that was bubbling up inside me. Her boyfriend needed to go. My sister had amazing talent. Maybe not at ping-pong, but at other things. But her piss-poor attitude and her affinity for guys who made her think she wasn’t good enough constantly kept her down.

Her current boyfriend was one of the worst in a long line of douchebags. And I wasn’t saying that because I was her brother and no one would be good enough. Honestly probably seventy-five percent of the world would be good enough. Gianna just chose the bottom ten percent every damn time. “Who cares if you’re not good at ping-pong? You’re designing a logo for the Boston Zoo, for Christ’s sake. Be proud of that.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, I’m designing it because my brother told them to offer the job to me.” It was a dare to admit it.

I met my father’s eyes in a plea for help. Anything I said now would upset her. Because yes, of course I suggested Gianna. But not because she was my sister. I threw her name in the hat for the zoo’s logo because she was an incredible graphic designer. All I’d done was make a suggestion. The people in charge had chosen her based on talent, not on her connection to me. However, she wouldn’t hear that. Not from me.

“So you invited a girl over to meet the family on Christmas, huh?” My dad was saving me from this train wreck while simultaneously throwing me to the wolves.

“Her parents are away.” Though I wanted to rage over the notion that her entire family had left her during the holidays, I realized that it wasn’t as simple as blaming Tom Wilson for being a jerk.

Since the day at the Christmas market, she’d begun talking about her dad more. I wanted her to feel comfortable telling me anything, and if that meant gushing about her dad, then so be it. And honestly, from the stories she told, Tom seemed a lot like my own dad. Just treading water as a single parent who figured things out as he went. And it was clear he’d done a damn good job. Avery was amazing, andknowing that he’d been her primary parent more often than not, I had to give him some credit for that.

Both my sister and my father were waiting for me to say more, but I just shrugged.

“What did you get her for Christmas?” My sister’s question was pure challenge, but I wasn’t taking the bait. I’d put a lot of time and effort into picking out the right gift for Avery. But if I told Gianna what I’d done, she’d make too much of it. Even if she’d unwittingly helped with it.

The sound of the doorbell was music to my ears. Thank fuck Avery had saved me from talking my way out of answering my sister’s question. A little too eagerly, I spun and hurried to the door.

Avery stood on the other side, dressed in UGG boots, leggings, and her black puffy coat. She took me in from head to toe. “Am I underdressed?”

I gave her the same kind of perusal, my heart practically beating out of my chest. She looked perfect to me.

“We’re in sweats, Avery. Chris dressed up to impress you,” my dad called.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sighed. My dad and Gianna were sure to spend the rest of the day embarrassing the hell out of me.

“I’ve been dressed like this for hours,” I muttered.

And since when did wearing a pair of jeans and a three-quarter zip on Christmas qualify as overdressed?

Shaking off the urge to snap back at my dad, I pulled Avery in for a hug. And I may have buried my nose in her soft blond hair and inhaled deeply as I did. Her sweet scent was quickly becoming my favorite.

She melted into my hold.

---