Page 62 of Golden Rule

Hunter frowns in confusion following my grumbled words. “Who the hell is Hannah?”

“Dad’s girlfriend,” Scar says, but I don’t miss the air of hesitation in her voice.

At first Hunter just stares at her, but when he scoffs, I’m thinking this isn’t a scab we should’ve picked at tonight.

“Of-fucking-course. The last thing that man needs is another relationship to manage. Romantic or otherwise,” he adds. “God only knows he’s doing abang-upjob with the three of us.”

The table goes silent, and the tension I thought we’d just avoided is alive and well again.

“You three don’t… want your dad to get involved with anyone?” Joss asks, and it’s an innocent question.

“It’s not really that. I’d love for him to settle down and be happy one day, but… I just don’t know if he’s stable enough for that yet,” I explain. “I mean, rehab got him back on his feet, but I’m not sure one blow to the heart couldn’t take him right back to square one.”

“Yeah, but isn’t that something he’ll have to manage on his own?”

I glance toward West when he speaks, surprised that he’d ask something like that.

“I get why it might seem that simple, but honestly, if my father falls off the wagon again, even after walking a straight path for several years now, there’s no promise he’ll ever get back on.”

There’s this somber look in West’s eyes that implies he understands, but I reserve judgment when he speaks again.

“That’s a terrifying thought,” he agrees, “but… I don’t think any of us can expect him to be alone for the rest of his life, simply because we’re afraid of what might happen if things don’t go his way. Wouldn’t it be more productive to, I don’t know, bring these concerns to his attention? So he can just be conscious of it? So he’s aware of your fears of being let down if he slips up?”

My heart’s racing, and I can’t put my finger on why West’s words are so triggering to me, but I think it’s because I believed that out of everyone,hegot it. Only, now I’m starting to think he feels I’ve been overreacting about the situation with Hannah.

And I’m not really sure what to say to that.

“I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree,” is my conclusion, and I go completely silent after that, so deep in my own thoughts I’m not sure what the new topic of conversation is when it switches.

It takes me a moment to bounce back, but I shove my feelings down as far as I can, and I manage to smile, listening to Dez sharing a knock-knock joke Gabbi told her last week. Pretty soon, it’s almost like the weirdness between West and I never happened.

Almost.

By the time we finish, there are only scraps leftover from our meal, and I’m certain the guys will take care of them before the night is over.

“Oh, Babe! Give them their bags,” Joss says, nudging Dane.

It only takes half a second for him to remember what she’s talking about and make his way back inside the house. I’d noticed two gift bags in his hands when they got here, but then forgot about them because I had to get the lasagna out of the oven.

A curious smile curves West’s lips as his brother approaches, handing one bag to him, and the other to Sterling. They both reach in at the same time, and that smile grows times ten.

“This always feels like Christmas morning,” West teases, and I now see what had his face lighting up so big.

A video game.

An officialNFLvideo game that the players always get far earlier than the general public.

“They shipped to the office yesterday,” Joss says, grinning as the guys scan the cases.

This year’s edition is special to the brothers. Following West’s miraculous comeback after surgery, his team in Sacramento finished with a record of eleven to five, helping them reach the NFC Championship. Fresh out of recovery, Westmanaged to throw for 4,327 yards, and twenty-eight touchdowns that season, which made him a shew-in for the titleComeback player of the Year.

And it also earned him the cover of this year’s game.

Observing the swell of pride that fills his eyes as he studies the image makes my previous annoyance with him fade a bit. He earned every bit of this.

I toss an arm around his neck, then kiss his cheek. “I’m so proud of you. You have no idea.”

He meets my gaze, placing a kiss on my lips. “This isn’t just me,” he says. “It’s us. No way I would’ve made it through the injury, through surgery, then back to the football field without you.”

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