Page 37 of Body Checked By the Defenseman

“Exactly,” I agree.

“Okay, okay,” Hayden concedes. “I’m down.”

We drop our bags. I go to use the bathroom down the hall while the guys head down to the sunroom. The house is spacious. The decorating is outdated but there is still a warm family vibe to the place.

I bump into Riley on her way out of the bathroom. “Oh, hey.”

“Hi.” I smile.

“It’s kind of awkward hanging out with people for Thanksgiving you don’t even know, am I right?” She smiles.

“It is weird,” I agree.

“You guys all go to Riverside U, right?” she says.

I nod.

“It’s cool you all got in there.”

“We were lucky,” I reply. “It’s nice to have Hayden and Mack there.”

“Are they both your brothers? I didn’t really understand what Maria was saying about Macklin. She talks about him like he’s her grandson.”

I really need to pee. I don’t know where this is going, but I can tell I am not going to like it.

“He isn’t her grandson by blood, but he’s still her grandson,” I reply. I obviously don’t call him my brother because he never felt like he was. He was the boy who lived across the hall that I crushed on hard.

“Cool, he’s hot,” she notes. “I go to Torresdale College. It’s a state college, nothing fancy.”

“That’s nice. I know it,” I tell her.

“Oh, you need to use the bathroom.” She giggles like she just remembered I was waiting by the door.

“Yeah, I’ll catch you soon. Abuela said we’re playing cards,” I say, feeling like my bladder is going to burst.

She nods and walks away. I’m peeved over the fact she called Macklin hot, not that I can blame her, because he really is.

I quickly take care of business in the bathroom and head down to the sunroom. My brother saved me a seat beside him, and I am grateful.

For the next two hours we play Bullshit with Mario, Abuela, his kids, and grandkids. Everyone is great. I’m pretty sure Vicky is crushing hard on my brother, which is great because she seems like a nice girl. I could do without Riley checking out Macklin every second. It’s hard enough being around him because of the shift in our relationship. I can no longer look him in the eyes because when our eyes meet, my body is consumed by the heat in his gaze and my cheeks flush.

When Abuela loses her hand, she stands. “I’m going to go prepare dinner.”

“I can help,” Mario’s daughter, Ana, offers.

“That’s okay, mija.” Abuela waves her off. Mario has been divorced since his kids were small. They seem to be very accepting of Abuela.

“I’ll come help,” I offer.

“Not necessary, mija,” Abuela says.

I make a pouty face at her like I’m five years old and she cracks. “Fine, come on, I know you want to taste test everything.” She laughs.

“You know me so well.” I giggle.

I leave to the kitchen with Abuela. She has all the food cooking on the stove and in the oven. “If this is a regular meal, what are we going to have for Thanksgiving tomorrow?” I joke.

“I made lots of pies and Ana prepared a beautiful stuffed turkey. I also made your favorite,” she says.

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