Page 43 of The Problem with Sports
I looked between my two brothers and asked the one question I really didn’t want an honest answer to. “Do you think she’ll forgive me?”
It was Sayer who delivered the blow. “No, Nate. I don’t think she will,” he said sadly.
“But if she does,” Gideon said, their roles reversed. “If she does, Nate, then you better appreciate that gift for what it is for the rest of your fucking life.”
“You think I won’t?”
“I think you’re finally going to learn the hard way what it’s like to be responsible for other people,” he replied, back to being the dick.
“I don’t even know how to get a hold of Steven,” I grumbled.
“You know how to get a hold of Grant, right?” Sayer asked.
“Yeah. We exchanged cell numbers a couple of weeks ago.”
“Well, there you go.”
I pulled my phone out and sent a text to an eight-year-old, asking him to have his dad-who he thinks I’m friends with now-to call me.
This was going to suck.
But the alternative?
That would suck even more.
Chapter 23
Andrea~
Well, I wasn’t expecting this.
Steven walked past me into the living room, no Grant in sight.
“Where’s Grant? With your parents?”
He eyed me and blurted out sadly, “You look like crap, Andie.”
“Geez, thanks,” I grumbled. “You sure know how to flatter a lady.” The jerk grinned and I just shook my head.
Some days I didn’t know how to take him. At times, we felt like old friends, and at other times, we could seem like distant strangers. I suppose it could just be a matter of mood swings or good days versus bad days, but I knew that me and Steven were probably always going to be a work in progress. At least, for a few more years.
His face softened when he asked, “Crying all night?”
“This feels really weird, talking to you about this, Steven,” I replied sardonically.
His grin widened. “Well, it’s about to get even weirder.”
My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? And where’s Grant?” I asked again.
Steven’s green eyes regarded me closely as he informed me, “He’s upstairs with Nathan.”
My stomach rolled.
“What?”
He threw his hands up in surrender. “Calm down-”
“Then you better get to talking, Steven,” I bit out.
