Page 48 of Sin Bin

“Hear, hear!” Nadia and Scarlett chorused, clinking glasses with her.

The conversation returned to weddings as they demolished the appetizers, laughing and chatting until the waiter brought their meals.

Twirling strands of pasta around her fork, Ana smiled at Nadia and Scarlett. “So what are the fellas up to this evening?”

“A bunch of them are hanging out at Hunter’s house,” Scarlett answered. “The last time I texted Viggo, they were playing pool.”

Bianca snickered. “You know Logan’s probably kicking their asses.”

“You know he is,” Nadia agreed with a laugh. “Reid is the only one who’s ever beat him, but only because Logan was having an off night. He’s so damn good. I swear he was born with a cue stick in one hand—”

“—and a hockey stick in the other,” Bianca finished.

As the others laughed and nodded, Meadow found herself smiling. “His adoptive father taught him how to play pool,” she said without thinking.

Four pairs of eyes swung to her, all filled with surprise.

An embarrassed flush climbed from her neck to her face.

“How do you know who taught him?” Bianca asked curiously. “Did you read that somewhere?”

“Um, no.” Meadow squirmed in her seat. “I was there.”

“There?” Everyone stared at her, food forgotten. “Where?”

Her cheeks grew hotter. “I was there when he learned to play. We were kids—”

Bianca gasped, eyes wide. “Talk about ‘burying the lede’! You never told me you know Logan!”

“Sorry,” Meadow said with a sheepish shrug. “It never came up.”

“Seriously? Not even after I told you that my boyfriend is a hockey reporter and his twin sister is dating a Denver Rebel?”

Meadow gave another helpless shrug, palms upturned.

Narrowing her eyes, Bianca pointed her fork at her. “I’ll deal with you later, missy. Right now I want to hear all about you and Logan.”

“Yes, girl,” the others urged, leaning toward her. “Tell us everything.”

Meadow felt painfully self-conscious. “Um, well, we met in foster care—”

“Logan’s your foster brother?” Ana interrupted.

“No. We were at the same group home back in Vegas,” she explained, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Mr. Tavárez was one of our counselors before he adopted Logan. He was really good at pool. He got his church to donate a pool table to the group home so he could teach us how to play. I wasn’t interested. Nothing but astronomy and art held my attention. None of the other girls cared about pool either. So Mr. Tavárez ended up teaching just the boys.” She smiled a little. “Logan was a natural. He took to it right away. Mr. Tavárez wanted to keep the boys busy and out of trouble, so he arranged for them to compete in community pool tournaments. Logan was freakishly good. He used to beat lots of older kids. He probably could have become a professional pool player if he hadn’t started playing hockey.”

She paused to sip her virgin margarita. She had everyone’s complete attention. Their focus was a little unnerving.

“What was it like living in a group home?” Bianca asked quietly. “I’ve heard so many horror stories.”

Meadow nodded, setting her frosty glass down. “Some group homes are better than others. Fortunately ours was on the better end of the spectrum. There were about five staff members and fifteen kids. Our schedules were very structured. We had chores every day, we went to school and we had weekly group therapy sessions divided by gender. I shared a room with three other girls, which definitely had its challenges. We had no privacy whatsoever and sometimes our stuff would get stolen.” Or broken, she added silently, mourning her beloved telescope.

“Honestly,” she continued, “the group home was better than most of my previous foster homes. The counselors genuinely cared about us, especially Mr. Tavárez. He had a really big heart and he loved kids, so he tried to make our lives as normal as possible. He took us hiking and swimming, and we used to play games in the backyard.” She paused, feeling a sense of sadness creep up on her. “We all had baggage to deal with, some more than others. It was really hard for me to trust people and open up, so I mostly kept to myself. Or at least tried to.”

When she finished talking, there was silence as the others digested everything she’d just shared. She took the opportunity to eat a piece of grilled shrimp and wash it down with a slushy gulp of margarita.

Scarlett gave her a small smile. “Did Logan used to get into a lot of fights?”

“He did,” Meadow said with a rueful chuckle. “He stayed in trouble, especially at school. Mr. Tavárez used to call him a tough hombre because he never backed down from a fight. But sometimes he fought for noble reasons. He believed in sticking up for the little guy, and he beat up more than a few bullies on my behalf.”

---