Page 46 of Cloudless
She shrugs her tiny shoulders. “I won’t apologize if it’s the truth.”
Lila massages her temples as she mumbles, “Sweet mercy.” She peeks at me from in between her fingers. “Regretting meeting here instead of the library yet?”
I’m shaking my head before she’s done talking. “No way. You can’t bring the twins to the library, and we’ve got to work on our group project sometime.” I shrug. “It just makes sense.”
Lila waves a hand between Posey and Jasper, who are bickering about the best flavor of gum. “You may regret that by the end of the day.”
“Not a chance, Sunshine. Not a chance.”
CHAPTER 21
COOKING IS MY LOVE LANGUAGE
LILA
My eyes grow dry from staring at my laptop screen for the past two hours. My attention span wanes and my mind drifts from the ever present set of distractions that come in the form of two very cute seven-year-olds and three over-sized hockey players.
Dax’s voice carries from the living room into the dining room where Kam and I have been holed up for the past two hours. “Okay, Rosie Posey. You’ve got three problems left.” He clears his throat as he reads, “Amy has fourteen apples. She gives her friend Jack six of her apples. How many apples does she have left?”
“Ummm. She has eight apples left!”
I hear the smack of a high five as Dax says, “Heck yeah, she does!”
The nudge of a shoulder has me blinking back to reality to find Kam’s warm eyes fixed on mine, his signature smirk firmly in place. “Come back to me, Sunshine.”
“Sorry, I zoned out for a bit.” Blissful relief flows through me as I close my eyes and massage away the blooming headache that seems to be my constant companion. “I think I’ve reached my limit of reading over contracts for today. I stayed up way too late last night working on another project.”
Kam leans back in his seat as he stretches his arms over his head. His shirt rides up to reveal tantalizing inches of toned skin that has my tired mind flashing with memories of what he looks like without a shirt on. I shake my head to clear the memories as Kam’s shirt slides back into place.
The tendons in his neck bulge with his yawn. “Yeah, I’m going cross-eyed. My future agent sent over some contracts for me to read before you got here. I’m pretty sure my brain was fried before you walked through the door.”
A horrible cracking sound fills the air as I straighten out my neck. I cringe as I rub away the weird feeling. “You’re getting contracts already?”
He blows out a breath. “Yeah. I’ve been putting all this off for as long as I can. I don’t have the mad skills you do with contracts.”
My brows furrow as I lean my elbows on the table. “Isn’t that what agents are for? Aren’t they supposed to be there so you don’t have to know what a good contact looks like?”
He nods his head as he plays with a loose string on the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Yeah, but my dad got screwed over big time by his first agent. In my mind, Richard, my dad’s agent when he died, wasn’t much better. I always told myself I would learn the skills for myself so I didn’t get in the same position.” A sheepish laugh escapes him as he gestures to the mess we’ve made of the dining room table. “I guess it’s proving to be harder than I thought.”
I tilt my head to the side as I take him in. “Why sign with him, then? It sounds to me like you’d be better off with someone else.”
His brows furrow as he thinks. “Well, everyone always just assumed I’d sign with him when the time came. I technically can’t sign as long as I’m still playing college hockey. He’s only allowed to give meadvicein the meantime.”
“Who’s everyone?”
He pulls on the string on his t-shirt so hard the seam unravels. I’m not even sure he’s realized what he’s doing. “Umm, my mom. I guess. She’s always talked like it’s a done deal.” He abandons the poor string to scratch the back of his neck. “I never really thought there were any other options, I guess.”
Mace pops his head out of the kitchen right as the familiar smell of baked potatoes hits my nose. “Dinner’s ready!”
A smile lifts the corner of my lips as I take in his signature SSU apron. “You know you don’t have to cook for us all the time, Mace.”
He places his hand over his heart like he’s in pain. “You wound me, Sullivan. Cooking is my love language.”
I stand from my seat and hold my hands up in surrender. “I got it. I got it. Cook away. I was just letting you know you deserve to be cooked for every now and then, too.”
As soon as I’m within arm’s reach, he wraps me in a crushing hug. He rests his chin on the top of my head as he squeezes me. “You’re a peach, Sullivan.”
I take a moment to return his hug. His very firm chest muffles my voice. “Well, uh, you’re an apple, Mace.”
