Page 28 of Game On
Levi pulls out his phone to check the time. He scrolls for a bit, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a smile. “It’s only a forty-minute drive,” he says. “Perfect amount of time for us to hit the second show in a double feature. Hudson’s choice, of course. We can either sit through a DreamWorks movie or the new Jason Statham.”
I roll my eyes. “The five of us will barely fit in my truck.”
Ella sits straighter, her eyes darting between the rest of us. “You know, I should probably sit this one out,” she starts, fumbling with the hem of her shirt. “This has been nice, but I don’t want to cramp your style—”
“No way,” I interject before she can finish her excuse. I’m not sure why, but making her feel welcome seems importantto me. “If I’m being roped into this, then we’re all going. It’s Jason Statham or bust.”
She hesitates, biting her lip. “But your truck …”
Levi waves off her concern with a dismissive hand. “We’ll make it work. Besides, it’s not a proper movie night without a bit of a squeeze.”
Sammy and Gabi nod in agreement, and Ella’s resistance begins to crumble under the weight of collective peer pressure.
“You sure?” she asks in a quiet voice.
“Yep,” I say. “It’s settled. We’re all going.”
Her gaze meets mine, searching for a sign of insincerity perhaps, but all she finds is an earnest invitation. Slowly, a tentative smile breaks through.
“Alright,” she concedes. “If you’re sure there’s room.”
Levi claps his hands together, a grin spreading across his face. “Hell, yeah,” he says. “We’re going to Stardust.”
CHAPTER NINE
Ella
The drive to Stardust is cozy, to say the least. We stopped back at our place to grab some blankets, but now I’m wedged in the center seat between Hudson and Levi. The others have successfully folded themselves into the jump seats at the back.
It’s not just about size; as a flyer, I’m lighter and more compact. Gabi and Sammy, on the other hand, boast the solid muscle that comes from years of tumbling.
Despite what may or may not be going on between Sammy and Levi, it was a universal vote for me to sit up here. At the creamery earlier, I could’ve sworn I saw a quick cheek kiss exchanged between them, but Sammy was quick to laugh it off when I asked her on our way out.
“Oh, that? Levi’s just being Levi,” she said with a dismissive wave, as if a peck was the most natural thing in the world between friends. I decided then not to dive too deep into the murky waters of other people’s love lives. Deciphering my own is confusing enough.
I’m still sorting through all my emotions. Jamie’s been onmy mind more than I care to admit, and it’s hard not to feel wary. After everything that happened, I’m not exactly eager to let anyone get too close again. I’m not sure I trust myself to.
But at least, for now, I have a front-row seat to the Hudson show. And what a show it is—jaw sharper than my wit on a good day, and is that hint of stubble? It’s doing things to me. Let’s not even start on the whole thigh-pressing situation.
Warmth seeps through the fabric of our jeans, an unintended intimacy that sends a flutter through my stomach. I hastily reach for the radio, needing a distraction from the closeness, from the thoughts swirling inside my head.
As my fingers brush against the dial, the cabin fills with the opening chords of a Miley Cyrus song. The volume is loud enough to make us all jump, and Hudson’s face colors with a flush of embarrassment as he scrambles to turn it down. But it’s too late; laughter bubbles up from all of us, breaking the tension.
Levi leans forward, trying to catch Hudson’s eye from over my shoulder, still chuckling. “Pop music, huh?”
“She’s more than just pop,” he grumbles.
“That’s true,” I chime in. “Did you know she was actually born with a heart condition?”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mm-hmm, tachycardia.” I twist my fingers in my lap. “She said that she worries about her heart every time she performs. My, uh, my mum has the same condition.”
She was also born with it, and it’s been the cause of more than a few hospital stays over the years. But the Davies women are nothing if not resilient.
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret bringing up the topic. My mum’s heart condition is something I’ve always struggled to talk about, and it’s definitely too personal to share with relative strangers. A brief silence envelops the truck, and I brace myself for the pitying looks and awkward “I’m sorry”s.
But Hudson simply nods, his gray eyes thoughtful. “That makes her success all the more impressive,” he says, then adds, “Your mom must be pretty amazing, too.”
