Page 50 of Getting Lucky Number Seven

“Don’t worry about Lyla. She’s my friend, and she’s one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

“That’s exactly what your father said about your mom,” Aunt Tessa snarked. I leaned forward in my seat and she held up her hands. “No need to get defensive. I’m sure she’s a nice enough girl, but as the only adult in your life, I thought it was my job to tell you to be careful.”

“Well, it’s not. And my mom made some mistakes, but she wasn’t a bad person. If Dad forgave her, you should be able to.”

“It was much easier before her lover decided to start visiting her grave all the time. Now their affair is the talk at the club. At the office. I can hardly escape it.”

“Just think of my mom. She’s dead, and all anyone cares about is who she slept with.” I shot out of my chair and stormed out of the room, hot bursts of anger firing through my body. Why didn’t people mind their own fucking business? Just because their mistakes weren’t broadcast around town, they thought they were better than us.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t been pissed at Mom for having an affair—there were still days I thought about it and got furious all over again. It wasn’t fair for her to expect me to keep it secret, either, and I hated that I ever had. We’d never talked about it—aside from the night when she told me she’d come clean to Dad and swore the affair was over. It wasn’t like I wanted to rehash it, but I suppose I’d expected her to apologize. At least she’d apologized to Dad—that was what really mattered. Once, I’d asked him how he could forgive her, and he’d patted me on the shoulder and said,Son, people make mistakes. When you love someone, there are times you have to be strong and work through issues together, no matter how hard it is.

I remember thinking it was a crappy deal on his side. That if love meant letting someone betray and hurt you and calling it strong, I’d rather be weak. I wanted to believe Mom had kept her word and that she and Dad were happy there at the end, but I wasn’t sure. The one thing I was sure about was that I wanted people to shut the hell up about it.

What I wouldn’t give to be in Boston right now, where I could hit the ice, shut out everything else, and get out the aggression suffocating my insides. But since I’d planned on spending my week focused on cardio, I didn’t have my gear, and any old skates I could use were at Mom and Dad’s. I was already going to have to face the house tomorrow, and I was too exhausted to deal with it tonight.

I glanced at the closed door to my room, thinking I could duck inside and try blasting music to fix my mood. But then I looked at Lyla’s door, and my feet automatically moved toward it instead. I lightly knocked and pushed my way inside.

Lyla was asleep on the bed, one of her textbooks open on her chest, her glasses still on. As quietly as possible, I crossed the room, removed the textbook and placed it on the side table, and then reached for her glasses.

The soft sigh that came from her lips made me pause and take her in. Her nose, her perfect lips. The spot in her cheek where the dimple would show up if she smiled. With Aunt Tessa, I felt like I was walking on eggshells. With Megan, I felt the need to be an example and make sure she was taken care of. Even with the guys on the hockey team, I was one of the captains and needed to be a leader.

With Lyla, everything was so easy, no added pressure. Maybe it was a mistake to pull her into this part of my world. I slid the glasses off her face and she stirred, her eyes fluttering. She reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me onto the bed next to her.

“Hey,” I whispered.

“Mmmm,” was her only response as she nuzzled in close, wrapping an arm around my chest and draping one of her legs over my thigh.

Everything seemed better now—like at least I could deal. My eyes drifted closed. I kept thinking I should get up, cover Lyla with a blanket, and go to my room, but I was so comfortable, and she smelled so damn good. So I soaked in how it felt to be next to her, and somewhere along the way, I fell asleep, too.

…

“It’ll be super boring,” I said, flopping onto the bed I’d left around three a.m., when I realized I’d accidentally spent most of the night with Lyla. It’d taken every ounce of energy I had to force myself away from her and into my cold, empty bed, and now I was thinking I was stupid for not staying and waking up next to her. Maybe I could’ve even joined her in the shower.

“Not if you’re there.” Lyla wrapped a scarf around the top of her head, knotted it, and slid it around so that the material made a headband, the ends of it mixing in with her red waves. “And definitely not if I’m there.”

True. But what if I started crying like a baby? Then I’d never be able to look her in the eye again. Still, Megan was off with friends, and while Tessa was home, after what she’d said yesterday, I didn’t exactly want Lyla to be alone with her. I stood and extended my hand. “Let’s do this, then.”

On the drive, as if she sensed I needed a mood lightener, Lyla sang along with the radio, the wrong lyrics coming out of her mouth about fifty percent of the time, as usual. When I teased her about it, she said, “The words I put in are way more interesting. You should be thanking me, not mocking me.”

“Is that right?”

“Totally.” Her eyes widened as we drove up to the tall, wrought iron gate. I punched in the code and pulled up to the house, trying to push away the unease crawling up my spine. “And I thought your aunt’s place was enormous.”

Tessa had asked me if I wanted to put it on the market—she complained that she was still paying the groundskeeper and maid service, and it was a huge waste. I told her to stop then, and I’d get it fixed up if and when I moved back in. Apparently it was ridiculous to let it get run-down, too, because then what would people think?

“I don’t deserve it,” I said as I took it in, the three expansive stories with the large paved driveway and manicured lawn.

Lyla turned in her seat to face me. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” I parked and started out of the car, but she grabbed my arm.

“Nope. You’ve got to explain now. Don’t make me start with the chemistry jokes or the cat pictures, because I’ll use cruel and unusual punishments to get you to talk. You know I will.”

Despite the situation, I cracked a smile. Then I leaned back in my seat. “People used to tell me that I was lucky. I got whatever I wanted, whether I deserved it or not. The fact is, it’s true. The only thing I worked really hard for was hockey, because I loved it, and all I ever wanted was to play for the Bruins. I worked for my grades, too, but only because Mom threatened to not let me play hockey if they slipped. But honestly, even they came pretty easily to me.” I glanced across the Land Rover at Lyla. “So now I own this huge house I don’t need, and I’m going to have an extremely successful company just handed over to me, and Iwantto deserve it.”

“But?”

“But I’m not sure I even want any of it.” I curled my hand around the bill of my hat, messing with it to give my hands something to do. “It’d probably be easy enough to hire someone to do my dad’s old job, but I feel like I’d be disappointing him. Working with him and then eventually taking over was always his dream for me.”

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