Page 4 of Jaded

But hockey is a pipe dream from another life. Now I have to want other things, like a gig that actually makes money. Jerry’s right; I really should branch out on my own, or I’m very soon going to find myself up shit creek without a paddle.

I sigh, type out my response.I’ll take it. Send me the details.

Chapter 2

Nat

“Thatlastgoalwaspretty sick, right?” Sydney Taylor leans over her plate to catch my gaze, but I don’t miss the way her eyes slide sideways—towards the teenaged boy seated to her left.

Makes my stomach clench in a way I still haven’t gotten used to. I’ve known Avery Bennett for most of his life—hard not to when his stepmother works at the beauty salon mine owns—but I liked him better before he was my daughter’s boyfriend.

I play it off like it doesn’t bother me.

“Ah, so youwereat the game.” I lift a brow as I pop in a bit of meatloaf—which is a mistake because it takes a significant amount of effort to hold a stern facade whilst enjoying Brenda’s cooking. “Couldn’t have stopped to say hi?”

“I was busy.” Syd rolls her eyes with a proficiency she mastered long before she turned seventeen. “I’m saying hi now.”

I bite down further questions I don’t want the answers to. Like what the hell she wasbusydoing at a hockey game. With Avery—Christ. Stop.

“Both Holland’s goals were sick.” Avery looks up from his own meatloaf. Doesn’t bother to swallow before talking, giving me a front-row seat to his half-chewed food.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Avery.” Brenda Taylor slides her knife between the prongs of her fork to slice through baked potato. “How old are you?”

Avery ignores her, naturally, because he’s eighteen and far too cool to listen to his girlfriend’s step-grandmother, even if hehaseaten at this table at least a hundred times before. “Can’t believe that dude scored against the Cheetahs.”

“And we still lost,” Syd adds, which just makes my gut clench all over again. No Jesse—no Taylor—no wins.

“At this rate,” Avery sighs, “the team won’t even be around anymore by the time I’m done with fuckin’ high school.”

I force myself not to revisit my boss’s words from earlier.

“Swearing too?” Brenda shakes her head. “You’re really not winning any bonus points today. How was practice?”

I’m sure Avery doesn’t catch the slight upward flick of her gaze—but I do. Shit. I know that appraising look.

“You didn’t skip again, did you?” I study him now, too, seeking out signs of a tell. He’s too busy looking at Syd to notice me giving him the stink-eye.

Doesn’t even glance at me when he answers in a garbled, “Hm?”

I sigh. The worst part of all this is I can’t hate the kid—he’s me, when I was his age. A little shit full of sharp corners and hard edges and hope.

I just don’t like him forSyd—because more than anything else, I want to see her get out of this town. It’s the only thing I’ve wanted, truly wanted, since she was born.

“Hockey practice, numb-nuts.” Syd elbows Avery in the side before reaching up to swipe the hat off his head.

A shock of white-blond hair tumbles over Avery’s forehead, and his lips turn upwards in a smirk. “Practice was good. We were at the Dingoes’ rink today, and the coach was there. Maybe he’ll recruit me.”

I roll my eyes. Coach Ethan spends almost as much time at the arena as me. “He’s not recruiting high school kids, Av.”

“But he still watched.” Syd levels her green eyes at me. “And Avery skated great.”

Everybody says she looks just like me—same dark complexion, glossy almost-black hair, same bright green eyes. Same angled cheekbones,though her jaw’s softer, more feminine, her cheekbones more prominent.

But I see her mother in there too, looking out from behind my eyes.

“Yeah, Syd did too.” Avery winks, and a wash of pink floods Syd’s cheek. “We’re the Dynamic Duo, right Syd?”

“You know it!”

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