Page 74 of Play It Off

“I’ve taken these last few months to work on myself,” I remind him, always on the defensive with Coop. I don’t know why he picks on me about it. Oh, maybe because he’s my older brother?

Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.

“I’m proud of you, Sisi.” He takes another drink of his beer, not even paying any attention to me while I sit next to him, suddenly choked up.

Coop hasn’t called me Sisi in years. It’s a nickname he gave me a long time ago when I was a baby, and it stuck until high school. By that time, I would get mad at him for calling me that, and he eventually stopped.

But right now, hearing him say he’s proud of me and calling me Sisi? I sort of want to cry.

“Thank you,” I manage to choke out, clearing my throat. He sends me an odd look, and I flash him a closed-mouth smile, not wanting him to notice that I’m all teary eyed. Thankfully he isn’t paying attention, and Dollar chooses that moment to approach our table, grinning so widely I wouldn’t doubt that his face will hurt later.

“Guys, I am on top of the world tonight,” Frank announces, spreading his arms out wide. “Best game of my life.”

“It was amazing, bro,” Coop says, his praise genuine. I can hear it in his voice. They all pick on Frank because he always has a reaction, but there is genuine affection between the roommates, and I love how supportive they are of each other when it matters.

I give Frank the accolades he’s seeking. “You were great today, Frank. The best catch of the game, maybe even the season.”

My brother gives me a look that saysLaying it on thick much?but I just smile serenely at him in return.

“Thanks, Coop. Sienna.” Frank smiles at me and scoots onto the booth seat, sitting next to me. He leans in and kisses my cheek, pulling away with a smile. “You’re looking good.”

“Don’t get any weird ideas.” I thrust my index finger in his face, and he laughs, pulling away from me but still staying in the booth with us. Other teammates eventually join us at the table, and we’re all making small talk, mostly predictions about their playoff future and where they think they might end up.

I remain quiet, simply absorbing their good vibes as they chat. Everyone’s in a positive mood, still riding the high from their win. They’ve lost only one game the entire season, and they are well on their way to that national championship they want so badly.

But there’s one person who hasn’t shown up yet, and while I’m supposed to act like I don’t care, I can’t take it any longer. And I’m not about to risk texting him right now. What if Coop sees me?

“Hey.” I tap Frank’s shoulder, and he turns to look at me, his brows lowered in question. “Where’s Gav tonight?”

Ugh, I still hate calling him that, but I’m trying to keep our conversation casual. Like I don’t really care where he might be, which is a total lie.

“His parents showed up unexpectedly, and he went to dinner with them after the game,” Frank explains before he turns away from me, resuming his conversation with the guy sitting next to him.

My heart drops. He never told me his parents were coming, but maybe he really didn’t know. And he’s with them still tonight, having dinner together? Is he ready to fling himself off a bridge yet or what? I don’t mean to sound dramatic in my own head, but I remember what he said to me that night when we first had sex. What he’s shared with me when he does talk about his parents, which isn’t often. I get the sense he’d rather pretend they don’t exist most of the time.

He admitted to me recently that he has a horrible relationship with his father and they’ve never been close. Which makes me feel sad because Coop and I are so close to our parents. I appreciate having them in my life and will text my mom about anything and everything just to show I’m thinking about her, which I always am.

Someday soon when we reveal our relationship to everyone, I’m going to bring Gavin over to my mom and dad’s, and they’re going to make him feel so welcome. They both adore him and think he’s a great friend to Coop. Just wait until they find out he’s their daughter’s boyfriend.

Mom is probably going to faint. She’s said to me more than once she thinks Gavin is handsome and charming.

Same, Mom. Same.

After approximately thirty minutes of sitting in silence and growing increasingly worried while everyone around me is having a great time chatting and drinking, I eventually make my way out of the booth so I can leave Charley’s. I can’t concentrate or pretend to have a good time when I know Gavin is out there suffering through what I’m sure is a tension-filled dinner. I hope his father isn’t being too terrible toward him.

Though he probably is.

I make my way through Charley’s, my gaze snagging on the back of a man who’s sitting at the bar, his head dipped, his shoulders hunched. There are women flanking either side of him, and I know without a doubt who it is. How long has he been here, anyway?

Operating on pure instinct, I march right up to him and tap him on the shoulder, not saying a word. Gavin turns to his left, his eyes widening in surprise, and his relief at seeing me is obvious.

“Ladies, the love of my life just showed up. Whatever you had planned is definitely not happening tonight. Sorry,” he announces as he bobs and weaves from his position on the barstool.

Oh dear. This man is stinking drunk. Why else would he call me the love of his life? Talk about blowing our cover.

“Gavin.” I lower my voice, my gaze locking with his. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Played the best game ever tonight. Did you see it?” He sounds like a little kid, eager and hopeful.

---