Page 33 of Rebellious

Bennett nods, not nearly as excited as I am. I don’t know what inspired him to ditch our families and head to the lake, but I’m not one to balk at miracles.

Aunt B rushes from the porch the minute Bennett puts the car in park. “You made it!”

I smile, watching her fawn over Bennett as if she didn’t just see him last night. “We’re so happy to have you home.”

I give B a squeeze as my father comes to the door, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. “It would’ve been nice if you’d have called before you left.”

I groan. “Dad. You knew we were coming.”

He tugs on my ponytail, bypassing me on the way to the car. “No. I knew you were coming yesterday,” he corrects. “Not this morning. You interrupted my workout.”

This time it’s Fenn who groans. “Please, Dad. I’m already queasy, don’t make me hurl.”

When Fenn and I were little, Dad used to send us over to Aunt B’s for a couple hours a day. Once, when I asked what he and mom needed to do, he replied, “Workout together.” Now that I’m older, I’ve long since realized working out was code for banging. However, my parents are very active, and theyactuallydowork out together daily. It’s confusing and we’re never sure which one they mean. So, we just assume they are always banging.

“Ask me how much I care about your comfort level right now,” my father snaps at Fenn, a teasing grin on his face. “Jameson #2, let go of your mama and come grab these bags. I’m not the fucking bellhop.”

Bennett smothers a laugh and goes to help my father.

“Come on, help me with brunch,” Aunt B says cheerily. “I made this new sugar-free syrup I think you’re going to love.”

Now, I wish I would’ve told Bennett to grab me a doughnut from the gas station. I almost forgot this was a sugar-free zone. “Mmm. I can’t wait to try it.”

Walking into the farmhouse, I note the kitchen hasn’t changed. It still has a massive butcher block island where Bennett and I made Santa cookies every year.

“Angel,” Mom calls, wiping her hand on a towel and running up to squeeze me. You’d think we hadn’t seen our family since last year and not just last night. “I need to prepare you for something,” she whispers in my ear.

The air shifts. Whatever is going on here, I won’t like. “You’re scaring me,” I tell her.

Aunt B clears her throat. “What your mother means is that we need to prepare you for Bennett’s behavior this weekend.”

“Ah, shit. What did Dad do?”

Mom’s eyes narrow as she pulls out of our hug. “Don’t swear.”

Please. She swears like my dad. “Fine.” I roll my eyes. “Oh, no!” I add some dramatic flair in my words. “What did Father do this time, Mother?”

Aunt B doubles over, snorting. “Gah, I’ve missed you.”

I’ve missed her too. Some people never have a mom, and here I’m blessed with two, though technically, she’s Bennett’s mom and our neighbor.

“So, what did he do?” I ask again when B finally settles down.

Taking a seat at the island, my mom sighs. “The Boston job you may not want… the one your father is excited about…”

I nod. “Yeah, so?”

“Well, your father invited Liam to fly down for dinner.”

“Who’s Liam?”

My mom rubs her forehead as if she’s getting a headache. “He’s the son, and sole heir, of the Boston Bulls’ baseball team.”

I scrunch my forehead. “The Boston Bulls? The job wasn’t with the baseball team.”

My mom nods. “No, it’s with the network.” Her eyebrows arch, waiting for me to put the pieces together. “The same network that’s owned by the Boston Bulls.”

What is this? Confuse Aspen day? “I don’t understand. So this Liam guy works for the Boston Bulls’ baseball team who also owns the B&N Network I’m supposed to work for this fall?”

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