Page 52 of Someone to Have
Toby’s gentle ribbing knocks some of the stiffness out of Rhett’s posture as a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.
Honestly, I hadn’t thought abouthowhe asked me. I’m too goddamn happy about the win and the fact that he maybe made a friend. When I told him he was switching schools and moving from South Denver to Skylark, Rhett had been adamant that he’d hate it here and vowed to spend every free minute he wasn’t playing hockey alone in his bedroom. And based on his track record, I figured that was our future—until now.
“Yeah, that’s what I meant. Can I sleep over at the Russells’ house?”
The hope in his voice catches me off guard.
A woman who looks to be in her mid-forties has joined our little group. She smiles at me and sticks out her hand. “Mike’s dad is picking up pizzas now. I’m Susan Russell.”
Toby wraps an arm around her shoulder. “Mike’s older brother, Kevin, was a senior my first year coaching and Susan made my life a lot easier. Never underestimate the power of a good team mom.”
“I appreciate the invitation for Rhett,” I say, shaking her hand. “I’m Eric Anderson, his uncle.”
“Star defenseman who can stop a breakaway like he was born doing it.” She smiles. “You were Kevin’s favorite college player backwhen he was in Pee Wees. We’re excited to have you helping out with the team this season. Rhett, you did such a good job today.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Russell.” My surly nephew sounds downright polite. If I’d known all it took was a compliment and a sleepover invitation to bring out the manners, I would have tried the tactic weeks ago.
“I’m sure you’ve gotten a lot of coaching tips over the years from your uncle.”
Rhett’s eyes meet mine, and his expression goes completely blank. “Sure…lots,” he says.
The lie is so blatant it almost hurts. The kid deserves someone in his corner, and I wish it had been me before now.
Susan Russell frowns slightly because that sounds like the lamest agreement ever uttered by a teenage boy—and that’s saying something.
“Can I pitch in for the pizza or bring by donuts in the morning?” I ask, wondering how this whole thing is done.
My mom sure as hell wasn’t hosting sleepovers, and I’d been pegged as trouble from a young age, so there weren’t a lot of invitations coming my way. Not until I got into college, and my teammates took pity on me. Plus, I stopped being such a punk ass…mostly.
“We’ve got it covered,” she assures me. “We’ll drop Rhett off around ten tomorrow morning if that works?”
Mike groans. “Dude, we won’t even be up by ten.”
“I’m your mom, not your dude,” she says with a laugh then turns to me. “I’ll have Rhett text you when these two sleeping beauties awaken.”
“Sure, thanks.” It all sounds so normal. Like we’re in a damn sitcom or something. And if I’m being honest, this level of normal is blowing my mind.
Susan and the two boys walk away, leaving me staring after them until Toby claps a hand on my back. “Hey, man. You aren’t sending him off to be inducted into a cult. It’s just asleepover.”
“Yeah, I know.” I nod and smile. I want to believe normal can be easy. I really do. “But I gave my word to my sister that nothing would happen to him while he’s under my care.”
“They’re going to play video games, stuff their faces with pizza, and probably do some dumb stuff like pantry roulette.”
I arch a brow.
“You know, when you have to eat something from the pantry without seeing it or knowing what it is.”
“Not a game I ever played,” I say. The choices in our pantry growing up were chicken or beef-flavored ramen. Pantry roulette would have been boring as fuck.
Toby smiles as Taylor approaches, but her shoulders straighten like she’s bracing herself for whatever casual dismissal comes next. It’s subtle, but there.
“Thanks for driving Hudson’s car back.”
“You’re welcome. It’s a tough break for him and the team, but the boys looked tight today.”
“Yeah,” Toby answers, but it doesn’t sound like he’s paying attention. “Anderson and I need to talk through some things, Tink.” He makes a shooing motion with his hand. “Don’t you have some…pirate book to read or whatever?”
I catch a glint of hurt in her eyes, although she covers it with an eye roll. But I can see her disappointment simmering just beneath the surface.
