Page 26 of The Wildcat

“If you go on a date with him, you think you can get me his autograph?” Hendrix throws a hopeful plea my way. “He was the Revolution’s top scorer last year.”

“Your sister isn’t going to date a hockey player.” Dad sits back in his chair and sips his drink.

“Oh, but it would be fine if she dated a football player, Daddy?” Gracie pokes the damn bear like only the good twin can get away with.

“She’s not gonna date him if he’s got a kid,” Nixon argues.

“Why not?” Grace bites back, and I bury my face in my hands.

Nixon looks at her like she’s lost her damn mind. “Because she’s not you, Gracie. Evie doesn’t do serious. And kids make it serious from the get-go. That’s not Evie.”

“The hell?” My head snaps up, and I glare at Nixon. “Who says I don’t do serious?”

“You do, evil twin,” Leo adds.

“She’s not evil,” Uncle Tommy defends me, then smiles his bighearted, goofy smile. “Maybe a little devious sometimes.”

“Hey,” I call out, and Uncle Tommy winks.

“I can do serious if I want to. I just haven’t wanted too.”

I don’t bother to tell them I tried once, and it still fucking haunts me.

“Oh my God, I thought that was never going to end.” I slam the door of the car and throw it into reverse, ready to get the hell out of Dodge. “Seriously, if I knew my love life was going to be tonight’s dinner topic, I would’ve made you go without me.”

“Liar,” Grace calls me out. “You’d never say no to Mom and Dad, and you know it.”

“Fine. But you know, if you could fuck up at least once in your life, it would really help a sister out.” Grace and I have been known as the good twin and evil twin our whole lives. I play along with it most of the time. It’s just easier to give people what they expect than to fight to be seen differently.

We’ve all got our roles to play.

But still . . . it gets old.

“Sorry, Evie. I’ll try.”Sure she will.I think Gracie’s world would implode if she ever did anything to ruin her perfect status in our parents’ eyes. Not that I fault her for it. In fact, right now might be the first time I envy her instead. “So...”

My heart drops a few inches. “So... what?”

She turns the music down. “Don’t play dumb, Everly. Tell me abouthim.”

I drive in silence for a few minutes, trying to choose my next words carefully.

Grace doesn’t push for more before I’m ready.

She’s the only one in my obnoxiously loud family who won’t.

“So... I wouldn’t hate to get to know him more,” I admit hesitantly. “But I’m not sure if that’s the smartest thing to do. He’s got kids, Grace.Two kids. His daughter, Kerrigan, and a baby boy, Jax. I think he’s a serious kind of guy.”

“So what?” She shakes her head. “Ignore Nixon and Leo. You can do serious if you want to. The question is—do you want to?”

“I don’t know . . .” I answer quietly.

I like fun. Fun doesn’t hurt.

“Guess you better figure that out.” I simultaneously hate that she always knows exactly what to say and love that she’ll always call me on my bullshit.

“Yeah . . . I guess so.”

Later that night, I’m soaking in a warm bubble bath with my favorite cherry candle lit and my Aunt Nattie’s newest romance book up on my kindle when there’s a knock at the en suite’s door.

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