Page 26 of Your Secret to Keep

what’s your address? And any secrets to getting in?

I send my address and the code to open the gate. I look around my place and panic. Is everything clean? Is there something I should be doing besides making sure I don’t burn what I’m cooking? Luckily, I like aclean space and everything is put away, except for laundry that’s currently washing. That should be fine, right? She’s not going to, like, snoop in my laundry room?

Wow. The way I need to get a grip. It’s clear I've not done this in averylong time.

After Rebecca, I poured myself into basketball even more than I already was. If I wasn’t at the facility, I was volunteering or finding events to help with—anything connected to the Jags. Keeping myself busy was key. The sad part was I didn’t even miss her that much once she finally put me out of my misery. She left and it was like this fog had lifted and I could think more clearly. I was always trying to be enough for her, doing my best to make her want to stay. I lost more and more of myself each day that I went out of my way to do things for her which she either never noticed or cared about.

When she finally left, it was intense how much of my mental space was finally free. I was no longer agonizing about what she’d like for dinner, what place she’d be surprised by if I got a reservation for, or what location I could take her for an impromptu getaway. It fucking stung. Like I never knew how much she was stealing from me until it was three years gone.

I turn down the burner to let the food simmer and go to the living room, one of my favorite spots because it’s so comfortable, to turn on my diffuser—a gift from Riley. When she, Zack, and my dad came over to the new place, they each brought housewarming gifts. Zack had my wine fridge stocked and Riley brought over a few diffusers with essential oils. She said she picked out the oil blends based on my aura—whatever the hell that means—and others she thought smelled good.

From what I’ve read, the jury is out on the benefits of essential oils, but Riley gave me a two-minute lecture on the harm of candles. I thought she didn’t want me to burn the new place down, but she quickly gave me the run down on the dangers of fragrance and “carcinogens hiding in plainsight.” Now, I'm the proud owner of essential oils and diffusers placed throughout the new house. Plus, every time I see Riley, she brings me a bottle of a new blend or something she thinks would be a perfect fit for me. It’s nice that she thinks of me.

My dad and Mack came over a week after with a grill in tow. I’ve never had a grill, so he was excited to show me how to use and take care of it.

Lavender and peppermint oil are filled in each of the diffusers, which I add water to, and turn all of them on. I jog back to the kitchen, not wanting to burn dinner.

I don’t think we need to eat in the dining room; that seems way too formal. Instead, I set the bar—the place I eat whenever I'm home. Music plays through the house, a habit I've gotten into. The quiet is something that itches my brain in the wrong way. It jumpstarts all the ‘what if’ questions and I usually end on a dark path, marked with worry and hypothetical concerns.

Standing in front of the wine fridge, I don’t know if I should bring out a bottle for dinner. To be honest, the only bottle I've had from here was the one Zack picked out after he had the company stock it. The wine was good, but I wasn’t tasting all the notes that Zack was; apparently it was a rare Chablis, and he liked it because of the ‘dusting of citrus and apple.’

I’m Googling the best wine to pair with carbonara when I get a notification that someone has entered the code at my gate. I go to the front door and peek out the peephole.

Lia is getting out of her car, looking around as she walks the path to the front door. There’s not much to see, considering the house is tucked back. The press hasn’t ever been an issue for me. Besides when the news came out about me and Zack being related, and the time some trashy tabloid found out about Rebecca’s bad behavior, things are mostly quiet.

A wave of nervousness hits me, wondering how weird it will be when she knocks and I'm awkwardly standing at the door. I practically run to a chair in the living room, jumping into it and waiting for her to knock. I don’t think this is much better.

This is ridiculous.

I’m ridiculous.

My head falls into my hands and I run my fingers through my hair as Lia knocks on the door. I jump like I wasn’t standing there thirty seconds ago, and pause before I open the door, taking in a slow breath.

There she is, all smiles in black leggings and a worn-in, retro Jags crewneck which falls off one of her shoulders, holding a plastic container.

“I brought dessert.”

Chapter 16

Lia

“What’sthedealwiththis pasta?” I ask after swallowing another bite. This is on par with some of the best food I’ve ever eaten. The nervousness sits low in my stomach, but the noodles help. “Is this, like, special pasta given to you by the NBA or something? Are you sharing trade secrets?”

Brooks holds back a laugh. “Would you believe me if I said Zack invited me to a cooking class? Well, he hired the chef, and we all learned at his place.”

“Who is all?”

“My dad, his wife, my mom, Riley, Zack, and Emilie... his fiancé.”

“Okay, that’s adorable.”

“Yeah, it’s very Zack, if that makes sense.” Brooks takes another bite of his pasta. “Tell me about your parents.”

A soft hole flutters in my chest. It’s more of an ache than a type of hurt. That may change day to day, based on what’s going on, if the subject of my parents comes up.

“They were lovely people. My dad is the reason I’ve been obsessed with the Jags since I can remember, and probably why Wes plays basketball. My mom was the kind of person who was so thankful for what she had.” Brooks’ brows furrow with the way I talk about them in past tense and then his face drops. “It’s okay,” I assure him. “They died when I was twelve. It’s been a long time.”

“I’m sorry. No matter how long it’s been.” Brooks rubs my forearm as he sits next to me at the bar. “I came from a single parent household and that was hard enough, so I can’t imagine.”

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