Page 9 of Riding the Pine

The smells that permeate the air make my stomach rumble so loudly I’m sure it’s echoing around the grand entryway.

Ares, seemingly bored of waiting for me to hand him something, takes the candy from my hands and gestures for meto take off my coat. When it’s off, we swap, and he gives me back the candy. “Happy birthday, man. The twins are already in the kitchen.” He turns as if he’s leading the way, but something cements me to the ground.

“What’s up?” Ares pauses, casting a wary glance back at me.

“Nothing.”

A knowing smirk tugs at his lips. “She’s here.”

He stares at my face while I try desperately hard not to jump into the air and fist pump at this revelation.

“Mamá is in the kitchen,” he adds, pursing his lips like he’s holding in a secret.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

“Come say hi to the guys, then you can go say hi toher.”

He’s never said it directly, but he’s made more than one not-so-subtle hint that he knows I’m low-key obsessed with his big sister. It seems to amuse him, I’m not sure whether that’s a good thing or not, but as long as he isn’t beating me senseless with his goalie stick, I’ll take it as a win.

As he walks away from me, he throws me a wink. “She’s brought a date.”

My stomach falls and doesn’t stop. It doesn’t stop when Gabriella sees me and hurries across the kitchen to pepper my face with kisses at the sight of her bag of candy. “You didn’t have to bring me anything.” She playfully slaps my arm. “But I’m very grateful, Scottie. Gracias.”

The twins wait their turn to say hey, and both Artemis and Apollo give very manly handshakes and bump shoulders with me to say hi.

“I’m taking him to say hi to Athena.” Ares jerks his head toward the door, and the twins exchange a look. I’m not sure what the look says, maybe they’re wondering why I don’t just wait for dinner to see her.

I’m not hanging around to deconstruct what they’re thinking. I follow Ares into what seems to be an informal sitting room. There’s a couch, a couple of recliners, and the biggest TV screen I’ve ever seen.

The guy, who I assume is Athena’s date, is sitting on one of the recliners, feet dangling over one of the arms, eyes down on the screen of his phone.

Athena sits on one end of the couch, phone nowhere to be seen, and she’s watching A League of their Own, an old baseball movie starring Tom Hanks and Madonna. Momlovesthis movie, and I guess, by default, so do I. It’s so packed full of team spirit and heart, and I love me a good underdog story.

Ares is already going who knows where, so I hop the arm of the couch, splatting onto the cushion next to her. I lean across the couch and nudge her with my elbow before taking a piece of popcorn from the bowl on her thighs. “Hey, Bright Eyes.”

She doesn’t pull her eyes away from the movie on the screen, but she does move the popcorn so it’s between both of us.

“Good movie choice,” I praise. “One of the best.”

She arches an eyebrow.

“It’s Mom’s favorite, so I’ve seen it once, or three hundred times.”

The corner of her lips twitch, but her wary eyes suggest she still doesn’t buy it. To prove I’m not blowing smoke up her ass, I clear my throat and start speaking alongside Tom Hanks as he loses his shit in the dressing room.

By the time I’m finished, Athena’s watching me, not the TV, and I feel like I’ve won the Stanley Cup. She nods, giving me a sliver of approval, and her boyfriend’s nose is no longer buried in his phone.

I smirk in his direction, as I get up from the couch to make my way back to the kitchen now that I’ve made my point. Or have I?

As I pass whoever this guy is, I nudge his dangling feet with my leg. “Never make your girl watch a movie by herself, asshole.” I don’t even try to be quiet, and Athena’s snort tells me she’s heard what I’ve said even if this prick isn’t reacting much at all.

I may not be able to have her for myself, but I sure as shit will make sure whoeverdoesget the honor of being with her will treat her right. OrI’llbe the one doing the beating with a hockey stick.

With a smug smirk plastered on my face, I head back into the kitchen where the smells are now driving me to stick my nose into the pots simmering on top of the stove.

Apollo smacks my hand as I reach for the lid of one of the pots. “Nope. If we have to wait, so do you.” He grins at me. “We do have gifts for you, though, Birthday Boy.”

There’s a small pile of gifts on the dining table at my spot between both the twins. Seems as though there’s something from everyone here. Including… no way, a hot pink bag. Did she buy me a gift? I swallow down the utterly giddy elation swelling up in my chest at the gift tag that says “To: Scott, Happy Birthday,from,A.”

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