Page 45 of Break the Ice
“Such a simp...” Jayden scoffs.
“Am I, though?”
I don’t know what they exchange behind my back, but Jayden’s quiet enough that I chance a glance his way.
From the way he’s pouting, Bruce’s jibe got to him.
“So… anyway, Thanksgiving plans?” Dylan asks again. It’s quiet for a beat before he asks Jayden, “You going to see your family in Vegas or are they coming here?
“Kailey’s coming to check out UCLA,” Jayden replies. “So the whole gang is in town. Knowing my mom and dad, they’ll invade my place for the day and cook for everyone while Momma and The Sire try to convince Kailey to stay at home.”
“How’s she recovering from the ACL surgery?” Auguste asks, genuine concern tinging his voice.
“It’s not something she likes to talk about. I tried to back in Florida when she went to see the specialist, but she fucking lost it on me.”
“She’ll talk to you when she’s ready.” The words roll off my tongue with a shrug. Bruce and Dylan fall silent, when I glance over my shoulder, they’re gawking between each other.
“Yeah, I know she will. I just hate that she’s struggling,” Jayden sighs.
“What about you, Preacher?” Dylan chimes. “You and your girl got any plans?”
Every time they call Finley my girl, a frisson of excitement bubbles in my chest. I like it. Hell, I more than like it, but at the same time, something inside me, deep in my gut twists tight.
I want Finley to be my girl, and at the same time, I’m terrified of what being mine would do to her.
Shutting off the water, I grab my towel and wrap it around me before I reply, “We don’t celebrate Thanksgiving.”
“How come?” Auguste asks.
“It’s not something we grew up celebrating in our church.”
“So what do you do?”
“Have a day off, I guess,” I say with a shrug as I walk out of the showers.
I make quick work of drying myself before Jayden, Dylan, and Auguste join me. Jayden’s still favoring his left shoulder, which gives me pause while I get my shirt on. Digging into my bag, I find a hair tie and twist the top lengths of my hair into a knot before I fish a pack of Motrin from a side pocket.
“Take two,” I tell Jayden, grabbing his water and handing it to him along with the painkillers.
“Thanks,” he replies, throwing the pills to the back of his throat and chasing them with a long gulp of his drink.
“Want a ride home?” I offer, when he nods, I tack on, “We need to be quick. Fin’s on her own and we don’t have anything at the apartment for dinner. So she’s got to be hungry, right?”
“Probably,” he says, voice muffled as he grabs his shirt from the hook in his cubby and puts it on. Too fast because his whole body ceases up with a loud hiss.
“Maybe not so fast,” I tell him, throwing both our kitbags over each of my shoulders. “Are you hungry?”
“Maybe...”
“Dude can always eat,” Bruce snickers on his way out of the door.
“You should eat something after taking the Motrin… last time you were sick when you took them on an empty stomach.”
“I had a bar after the game.”
“Right.”
Jayden bites his lip, deliberation pulling at his brows while he combs his fingers through his damp hair and then folds his suit jacket over his forearm.?“Let’s go.”
