Page 112 of Shutout
“Wow, that’s cute. You already know how to chirp back.” I pull him into a headlock faster than he can react and rub his hair. “Who taught you that, huh?”
Behind me, Liv sighs. “Brooklyn, unhand him. Absolutely no one enjoys your headlocks.”
“Wrong. I do.” But I do release him. I try my best not to laugh as he fixes up his hair and glares the shit out of me.
But his expression softens when he looks at Liv. “Erm, thank you.”
“Hey, she’s taken.” At the look on Liv’s face, I say, “What? I recognize those eyes. They’re those of a tween developing a crush on a hot, older girl.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “You’d know, huh?”
Oops. I’ve walked into a mine field.
“Well, we better go in before we freeze out here,” I say amiably and guide her inside.
“Do you still think Luz is hot?”
“Hmm, I wonder where Dad is.” I busy myself hanging my beanie on the coat rack and unraveling my scarf.
“Oh, so you do?”
I snort. “Please, you’d punch me if I said she isn’t.”
“True, no one can say any crap about my sister other than me.” After a pause, she asks, “But I’m hotter, right?”
Relieved that this question’s easy, I say, “Of freaking course. You’re the hottest girl in the entire planet.”
“You guys are gross,” Lee says before shouting, “Dad! Your other son is here!” His feet patter away from us after that, no doubt back to playing with whatever his parents bought him.
The one who finds us first is Lauren, though. “Merry Christmas, kids.” We return the greeting and she ushers us tothe kitchen. “Eggnog? I made it with coconut milk, in case you visited us, Liv.”
“Sure,” I say as I hold the barstool for Liv to sit comfortably. She says she doesn’t like it when I do things that she can do herself, but I do like it. And that’s just one of the little things we’ve had to adapt to now that we’re out of the friendzone and into coupleville. Another one is when she dresses super sexy for a night out. That one I don’t like because there are too many creeps out there, but she does. Compromise and all that.
Lauren pours two hefty cups of eggnog for us and one for herself. After a little toast, I take a sip and?—
Start coughing.
Liv clears her throat. “Erm, Mrs. Tatum. I think you gave us the one for adults.”
For alcoholic adults. Not even a shot at a Bolt House party has ever given me a kick like this.
“Don’t tell your father, but I think you’re old enough,” Lauren says with another sip of hers. “Is it too strong, though?”
“A bit?” Liv’s eyes are watery. So… not justa bit.
But my step-mother shrugs. “Oh well.”
Liv and I exchange a glance. Her face reads the exact same thing I’m thinking. Which is that wecannotlaugh, no matter what.
Heavier steps than Lee’s descend down the stairs and I tense. Immediately, my girlfriend slides her hand to my knee and gives it a healthy squeeze. Healthy, I say, because it elicits a totally healthy reaction out of me that travels all the way to my blushing cheeks.
I clear my throat to center myself as Dad appears before me. He kisses his wife’s forehead before facing us, his expression even more drawn than usual.
“Son.”
“Dad.”
“Mr. Tatum.” When he turns to Liv, she adds, “Merry Christmas.”
