Page 31 of Stick It
Clearing my throat, I step away, putting distance between us as I grab the cutlery instead. “Thanks,” I mutter, keeping my head down.
Jax doesn’t say anything, just resumes setting the table as if the moment hadn’t happened. But I can still feel the lingering warmth where he’d stood too close. Shaking it off, I focus on grabbing silverware from the drawer and laying it out on the table.
The thundering of footsteps down the stairs announces Kyle’s presence before he appears in the doorway, hair still damp from his shower. He’s dressed in dark pants and a collared shirt, hair slicked back and looking like he’s about to dine at a fancy restaurant. The rest of us are all casually dressed in sweats or shorts.
Then I realize he’s always dressed the same way when I see him in the cafeteria on campus. Always so polished and put-together like he’s trying to compensate for something.
Gaze sliding to Finn, I recall he typically prefers jeans and formfitting T-shirts that don’t even try to disguise his six-pack abs and bulging biceps that threaten to rip the sleeves at the seams. Although he’s gone casual tonight in low-hanging graysweats and a loose sleeveless top that shows off the intricate web of tribal tattoos decorating his left arm.
I’ve never seen Jax in anything other than sweats. Even that night he came home after being at a bar with the rest of the team. And why should he wear anything else? He looks fine as hell the way he’s dressed.
Ethan straddles the line between Finn and Kyle. Not as polished as Kyle, but you can tell he takes pride in his appearance. He sticks to T-shirts and dark denim jeans or pants, pairing them with sneakers, but there’s never a wrinkle in sight. Although no matter how smart he looks, his hair is never anything but messy. There is just no taming that beast. It’s like his hair deliberately refuses to stay in place just to prove to Ethan that no matter how hard he tries, he can’t control everything.
I always find it oddly amusing to watch him shove it away from his face, only for a strand to immediately flop across his forehead.
Kyle stalks into the kitchen, his expression neutral but eyes flashing with tension.Oh joy, isn’t this going to be a fun night.He hasn’t spoken a word to me since yesterday’s confrontation, and I’m not exactly eager to start a conversation with him.
Ethan, as usual, takes control of the situation. “I invited Griff,” he says casually, holding Kyle’s gaze. There’s the slight flaring of Kyle’s nostrils, but that’s his only tell. “I wanteveryoneto clear the air before tomorrow.”
“Fine,” Kyle grumbles. His lack of protest takes me by surprise, and I narrow my eyes, watching him. He doesn’t seem happy about it, but he isn’t fighting back either. Perhaps Ethan’s punishment yesterday knocked some sense into him.
The doorbell rings a few minutes later, announcing Griffin’s arrival, and we all sit down to eat. The atmosphere is oddly relaxed. Uncomfortable in places, and I can tell the guys are putout by having someone new in their space, but as they fall into easy conversation, rehashing stories about their teenage antics, any lingering tension bleeds out of the air.
“Kyle and I were at this camp when we were, what, fourteen?” Finn is saying, glancing over at Kyle, who nods, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Anyway, we had this coach who was, like, military-level strict. Dude had us up at dawn every day, skating suicides until we puked.”
Kyle leans back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, and a mischievous glint lighting up his eyes. “Coach Bradley. The guy didn’t have an off button. He’d yell at you for breathing too loud.”
“Exactly.” Finn nods sagely, pointing his fork in agreement. “So one day, Kyle gets it into his head that we should pull a little payback prank. You remember that, Kyle?” Finn grins at his co-conspirator.
Kyle snorts. “Pretty sure it was your idea, Finn. I was just along for the ride.”
“Sure, sure, whatever.” Finn waves him off, with a laugh. “Anyway, we sneak out of our cabin at, like, midnight and grab his whistle—the one he used to blow directly in our faces every morning. We rig it up to the showerhead in the coaches’ locker room. Took us forever to figure out how to tie it up so the water pressure would blow it like a foghorn.”
Kyle chuckles, shaking his head. “And by ‘forever’, he means we spent half the night arguing over the physics of a whistle. I still don’t know how we got it to work.”
Finn ignores the interruption, his grin growing. His face is alight with devilry as he reaches the climax of his story. “So, the next morning, Coach goes in for his shower, and we’re all waiting outside, trying not to laugh. Then—BOOM!” He smacks his hands together for emphasis. “The whistle goes off like an air raid siren. The guy comes flying out of the locker room,half soapy, yelling his head off about vandals and discipline and who the hell touched his whistle.”
Kyle leans forward, smirking. “And then he trips over his own duffel bag and lands flat on his ass.”
The table erupts in laughter. Even Ethan chuckles as Finn doubles over, tears in his eyes. “Oh, man, I forgot about that,” he wheezes.
“You forgot?” Kyle raises an eyebrow. “You almost got us both kicked out when you couldn’t stop laughing during morning skate.”
The banter continues, easy and natural between the group of boys. For the first time, I catch a glimpse of Kyle without the perpetual scowl and hostility. Around the guys, he’s different. There’s a sharp humor to him, a dry wit that fits perfectly into the rhythm of their friendship. It’s strange to see him like this, relaxed and at ease, as though he’s shed the weight of his animosity toward me. For a moment, I almost understand why they’re friends with him. Almost.
Pushing his empty plate aside, Ethan leans back, a slight smile playing at his lips as the laughter dies down. His gaze shifts to me, and I tense, already dreading what’s coming. “I’m sure you’ve got a story or two,” he says, voice warm and inviting.
The table falls quiet, all eyes turning to me. My throat tightens, and I force myself to swallow past the lump that’s suddenly formed there.
My mind flickers back to my old team. How I was shunned and ignored. The way my captain used to laugh while I shoved off another teammate’s cheap shot. How I was made to feel like an outsider even when I wore the same jersey as everyone else. Definitely no fun memories there.
Instead, I land on something safer, a story from high school. “Uh…we were in the playoffs in high school, and one of my teammates—she was a defenseman—accidentally scored on our own net. Like, a perfect shot. Top shelf.”
Griffin snickers, and I let out a shaky laugh, the memory easing the knot in my chest. “She was so pissed at herself, but then she came back in the third and got a hat trick. Completely redeemed herself.”
“That’s badass,” Jax says, grinning.
Finn chuckles, his gaze colliding with mine. For a minute, I’m blinded beneath the full weight of his focus. His dazzling smile and dancing eyes. Then, something shifts in his expression, a wall slamming down over his features and blocking me out so suddenly that I feel almost breathless. It stings more than I want to admit. Ethan’s rule about ignoring me doesn’t apply in the house, so why is he so intent on freezing me out?
