Page 117 of The Way We Score

But Liv’s attention is focused on the article. “It’s so amateurish. Do people really read this? Why do they use so many exclamation points?”

“It’s garbage.” Dylan’s tone is sharp. “It’s hearsay and guessing what they think is going on based on the tiniest sliver of a fact, yet it’s presented as coming from a reliable source.”

“I guess talking to me is kind of talking to a reliable source.” I rub the back of my neck feeling like I’m the real problem. “I can’t believe how much she got me to say.”

“I’m sure you did not make Liv out as a manipulative clinger, faking pregnancy complications to get you home.”

“I only wish those complications had been fake.” I groan, putting my arm around Liv’s shoulders. “Flying back that night took ten years off my life.”

“I don’t really care what they say about me.” Liv’s face is lined with worry. “But will it make them call you back to New York?”

“No.” I shake my head, although I don’t know for sure. “I worked out this deal with the owner himself, and we made sure Homes was a solid replacement. They’re headed to the playoffs. They don’t need me there.”

“Logan said he can tell you’re not playing this season.” Dylan’s nose wrinkles.

“Logan’s biased. The truth is, I was at my best when he was on the team.” I try to sound reassuring. “They mustbe having a slow news cycle if they’re scraping the bottom of the barrel worrying about what I’m doing.”

“That’s not true!” Dylan cries. “The fans love you. I’m sure they want to know what you’re doing now.”

She’s being nice, but I want to tell her she’s not making the situation better.

Liv is still frowning, and she’s chewing her bottom lip. After all the shit we’ve been working through lately, the last thing I want is for her to be worrying about this kind of bullshit.

“Are you okay?” I take her hand, slowing her pace as my sister continues on ahead.

“Yeah.” She blinks up to me, and the little smile she gives me is somewhat reassuring.

At least the article isn’t a hatchet job like the one about Dylan. I’d like to think it’s because they learned their lesson with how Logan handled it, but I doubt that’s the case. We’re at the restaurant, and Dylan trots up the steps leading to the back entrance to the kitchen.

“Why don’t you two stick around and have dinner?” Dylan holds the screen door as we enter. “The guys are all set up to watch Hendrix play. Go join them.”

“Why don’t we all join them?” I can’t help teasing my little sister now that I know she stopped watching our games.

“Maybe in a minute.” She grabs Liv’s hand. “First, I want to show Liv my new recipe!”

Liv smiles up at me. “I’m good. Go hang out with your brothers.”

With that, I let them go. If I know Dylan, she’s going to keep Liv in the kitchen all night talking and getting all the news.

“Wait!” Dylan hands me a large platter of Thomas’s spin on White Castle burgers. “Take these out to the guys.”

“Are those my White Castle burgers?” Liv cries. “I want one.”

“Don’t worry.” Dylan taps her shoulder. “I’ve got more for us back here.”

And my suspicions are confirmed. I won’t be seeing Liv again until it’s time to go.

“Hey, look who’s here.” Zane stands when I round the corner with the tray of sliders. “Need some help?”

“Dylan sent these.” I pass my brother the tray, and he carries it to the table where Jack and Logan sit facing the large-screen televisions all on the same channel.

It’s a Monday, so the restaurant is pretty empty. Most people are at sports bars watching the game or they’re home getting ready for work and school tomorrow.

“Did you see the article?” Logan’s expression is somber and he hands me a beer out of the silver bucket in the center of the table.

“Yeah.” I take the drink. “Thanks. It’s not as bad as what they wrote about Dylan.”

“Still, it’s pretty shitty.” Logan pulls out a chair, and we sit together.

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