Page 114 of Campus Crush
“I do not have that many shoes,” I protested, setting my hockey gear down by the door.
Drew snorted. “Says the guy with three different pairs of running shoes.”
“They’re for different surfaces!” I defended myself, though I couldn’t help but smile. The lighthearted bickering felt good after weeks of stress and grief.
Abby wiped her hands on her jeans and came over to press a quick kiss to my lips. “How’s it going at the house?” she asked.
“Gordy’s already planning dinner for tonight. He says we all need a proper meal after moving all day.”
“That sounds amazing,” she said, her eyes lighting up. Gordy was easily the best cook among us, and his meals were legendary. “What time should we head over?”
“He said seven, but knowing him, food won’t be ready until eight.” I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close for a moment. “How are you holding up?”
She leaned into me, her body relaxing against mine. “Good, actually. Really good. This feels like a step in the right direction.”
I nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. After my confrontation with my father, I’d felt the same way—like I was finally taking steps toward the life I wanted instead of the one that had been preordained for me.
Abby wasn’t a victim of her circumstances. She was making the best life she could for herself and her brother, and I felt lucky to be a part of their family.
Drew cleared his throat dramatically. “Not to interruptthis adorable moment, but we still have boxes in the truck that won’t unload themselves.”
I reluctantly let go of Abby. “Alright, I’m coming.”
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of boxes, furniture rearrangement, and good-natured teasing. By six thirty, we had most of my essential stuff moved in, and Sam’s room at the hockey house was set up. Mason’s new room—formerly Sam’s—was ready for him, complete with the hockey posters Liam had insisted on hanging to try to convince him that hockey was the superior sport.
When we arrived at the hockey house for dinner, the smell of Gordy’s cooking hit us the moment we walked through the door. Something with garlic and herbs that made my stomach growl in anticipation.
“We’re here!” I called out, ushering Abby and Mason inside.
Gordy poked his head out from the kitchen, a dishcloth thrown over his shoulder. “Perfect timing. Drew, set the table!”
Drew groaned from his spot on the couch where he had just sat down to play a video game. “Why is it always me?”
“Because you’re the only one who never cooks,” Liam said, coming down the stairs with Sam following behind him.
“I thought we agreed that me cooking meant risking burning the house down and it should be avoided at all costs,” Drew said, pausing the game and getting up anyway.
Mason hovered uncertainly in the entryway, and I noticed how he seemed to shrink into himself a bit, hisshoulders hunching forward as if trying to take up less space. I’d seen the same posture from him at the hospital and the funeral—like he was trying to make himself invisible.
“Hey, Mase,” I said casually, “want to help me grab some sodas from the garage?”
He shrugged, which I’d come to recognize as teenage for yes, and followed me through the kitchen where Gordy was stirring something that smelled incredible.
“What is that?” I asked, pausing to peek into the pot.
Gordy swatted my hand away. “Chicken cacciatore. And if you touch anything, I will end you.”
Mason’s eyes widened slightly at Gordy’s threat, but I just laughed. “He’s all bark, no bite,” I assured Mason as we continued to the garage. “Except on the ice. Then he’s terrifying.”
In the garage, I opened the extra refrigerator where we kept drinks and snacks. “What do you want? We’ve got soda, beer—which you can’t have—and water.”
Mason peered into the fridge. “Coke?”
“Good choice.” I grabbed cans of Coke for all of us. “Here, take these.”
As I handed him a few of the sodas, I decided to take a chance on some conversation. “So, how are you feeling about the move?”
He shrugged again, but then surprised me by adding, “It’s cool. Better than staying at Gram’s house.”
