Page 8 of Replay

After a long shower, during which I contemplated all my life choices on repeat, I decide to torture myself further by opening my closet door to stare at the picture collage on the back of it.

I trace my finger over her pouty lips and clear blue eyes. She’s heart-breakingly beautiful.

The week before everything changed, Berkley had surprised me with a picture collage for my room in Texas. She even included a few with us and my younger sister, Willow. The same sister who wouldn’t speak to me for two months after she found out I broke up with Berkley. She was only fifteen at the time and, unfortunately, I think myself, along with our parents, ruined her idea of true love all within one short year.

“Yo, dinner’s ready. If you want any, you better come on...” Graham’s voice trails away as I hear his feet pounding down the steps.

“There’s the superstar,” Maverick teases from across the table, where he sits beside his brother, Cash.

I raise my hands, smirking at them. “In the flesh.”

“Sit your asses down and bow your heads,” Mav demands, and after having a few “family meals,” during their visits this summer, I already know what he’s about to say.

“Dear Lord, bless this food, bless the hockey puck, and the gridiron. And bless Nola’s parents for teaching him how to cook.” He even tops it off with one sharp clap, like we’re finishing a team huddle.

I chuckle. It's the same prayer every time. According to Mav, his gigi made him promise to bless his dinner every night. She knew Cash and Graham wouldn’t do it, so he took the responsibility like he always does for his twin and cousin. However, somehow, I feel like he’s the least responsible of the three.

“This looks like a five-star brunch,” I say, taking a bite of the eggs Benedict. I swear, even the presentation looks like something from a fancy restaurant. From what Nola has shared with me, his parents own a restaurant in New Orleans that was like his family’s second home growing up.

“Fuuuck. This slaps, Brody,” Graham moans, still chewing his food.

Nola chuckles. “Damn, it must be good if you are using my first name. I don’t think you’ve called me that since the first day of training camp last year.”

“He’s right, though,” Cash says as he shovels food into his mouth. Both he and Maverick are huge guys who likely have to eat a ton of calories to bulk up during the off-season of hockey.

“Thank you.” Nola nods proudly.

“Bellamy’s coming back tomorrow. She was asking if we’re going to do our before-school get-together here like we did last year?” Maverick asks, and my heart flutters at the mention of Bellamy, who I learned over the summer is not only the twins’ stepsister, but also Berkley’s best friend.

Will Berkley come too?

I’ve stopped myself so many times from seeking her out since I heard she was back from studying abroad, but I don’t want to bombard her after everything I put her through.

When I realized she blocked me after our breakup, I started writing down thoughts and conversations to her. I know it sounds pathetic, but it was the only way I found to cope with it and still be able to focus on football.

I’ve been contemplating writing something to deliver to her. Something to break the ice about me being here, and hopefully a way to get her to talk to me.

Graham’s answer pulls me from my thoughts. “I say we do it Sunday night, since it’ll be our last light day before school starts back up, but keep it just football and hockey. Invite only.”

“Bet,” Mav says. “But then after y’all whoop that Tennessee ass next Saturday, we’re throwing a big one here that night.”

“I like the sound of that.” Nola whistles.

Cash turns his attention to me between bites. “How’s Mountain Ridge treating you so far, Nate?”

I think about it briefly before answering honestly. “I like it. It feels more like home.”

“I bet it's nice being within driving distance of your family.” Nola’s expression is one I haven’t seen him wear before.

“Yeah, my dad and sister will be able to come to more games, so that’s nice.”

“Sister, you say?” Maverick asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Like fuck…” I level him with a stare.

He just chuckles, raising his tattooed arms in surrender. “Okay, okay.”

“QB, what’s up with you and Carter Graves? I know y’all grew up with him,” Nola asks as he looks between Graham and I. “But I haven’t seen you interact with him really at all.” He must have missed the little stare-down we exchanged at the end of practice, or maybe he didn’t and that’s why he’s asking.