Page 54 of Hard to Take

“Then show her. When I was young, if a man liked a woman, he’d make it crystal clear. Unless you don’t think she feels the same way?” Grams lifts the empty purse Waffles was in onto her lap, wiggling a finger through the inch-wide holes cut in the sides for ventilation.

I grin and shake my head. “Point taken.”

We play a little longer, and she feeds Waffles his body weight in treats. She’s still crooning to him when I head into her bedroom under the guise of using the bathroom to wash my hands.

After doing that, I pull the pamphlets from my pocket and tuck them next to her bed under a book.

15

BROOKE

It’s not unusual for Denver to get hit with snow weeks or even months before the holidays. Somehow, it came with a vengeance the week before Christmas.

I’m glad the team isn’t traveling for their game tomorrow. Even the short drive to our parents’ house in Washington Park stretched to nearly an hour.

Jay picked me up this afternoon, his SUV tires protesting on more than one uncleared road in a way that was borderline treacherous.

But the view outside the window is beautiful.

The warm aroma of Mom's famous honey-glazed ham lingers in the air as we finish dinner. Dad pushes his plate away with a contented sigh, while Jay helps himself to one last scoop of mashed potatoes.

"That was delicious," Dad says, patting his stomach.

Mom starts gathering plates, and I stand to help her. As we stack dishes in the kitchen, I can hear Dad and Jay still chatting at the table.

"How about some after-dinner drinks?" Mom suggests, pulling glasses from the cabinet.

I nod, grabbing the bottle of whiskey Dad likes. "I'll pour."

Back in the dining room, I set glasses in front of Dad and Jay. Mom follows with her signature eggnog for herself and me.

As we settle back into our seats, Mom turns to Jay. "How's the season going? I've been following the games, but it seems like it's been a tough stretch."

Jay sighs, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "We're shorthanded, and some of the Western teams got a lot stronger during the off-season."

"You're doing an amazing job leading the team," Dad chimes in, his voice full of pride. "The way you've been rallying the guys, keeping morale up—that’s what real leadership looks like."

Mom nods in agreement, her hand resting on Jay's arm. "We're proud of you, Jayden. I know it's tough, but you're handling it beautifully."

I sip my eggnog, trying to quiet the emotions swirling inside me.

Jay catches my eye and gives me a smile.

He knows. He's always known how different Mom's expectations are for us.

We have so many shared adventures and memories. My brother might be two years older, but he always respected my opinion, always let me be my own person.

Except he doesn’t know the most important things in your life, a voice reminds me.

I’ve kept from him that Mom cut me off, and she hasn’t volunteered it either. Part of me wishes I’d told him, if only so that I don’t feel like I’m hiding more than one important development from him.

But so what if I’m sleeping with his teammate? It’s not like he has a say in who I date.

Not that Miles and I are dating, but the moments outside of bed are starting to stick with me. The long looks across a room. His endless supply of jokes. The way he whistles as he navigates the kitchen in a towel while making me coffee in the morning. Catching him talking to Waffles as if the Frenchie is a friend and not a foot-high bundle of fluff and attitude.

"So, Brooke," Mom says, turning her attention to me. "How's work going?"

I set my glass down, steeling myself. “I helped Nova land a couple of new jobs."

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