Page 115 of Campus Crush
I was relieved he felt that way. Everything had changed so quickly, and I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable with the new arrangements. We made our way back to the kitchen just as Gordy was announcing that dinner was ready.
The dining table in the hockey house was barely bigenough for all of us, but we crowded around it anyway, passing dishes and fighting over the bread. Gordy had outdone himself with chicken cacciatore, roasted vegetables, and garlic bread that was perfectly crispy on the outside and soft in the middle.
“Dude,” Drew said through a mouthful of food, “you need to open a restaurant or something.”
Gordy rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was pleased. “It’s just chicken and tomatoes.”
“It’s amazing,” Abby said sincerely. “Thank you for cooking for all of us.”
Sam raised her beer. “To our new living arrangements. May we all survive without killing each other.”
“Hear, hear!” Liam cheered, clinking his bottle against hers.
“So Mason,” Drew said, turning to Abby’s brother, “You’ve been holding out on us. We saw all your football stuff and Abby said you’ve been playing for years. What position?”
He looked up, a sheepish expression on his face. “I’m a wide receiver.”
“That’s awesome,” Drew said, leaning forward with interest. “What’s your team like?”
Something in Mason seemed to light up at the question. “We’re pretty good. Made it to state semifinals last year. We got close again this year, but lost one game too many to make it to the playoffs.”
“No shit?” Liam said, impressed. “That’s legit.”
“Language,” Abby murmured automatically, but she was smiling as she watched her brother engage with the guys.
“You must be fast,” I commented.
Mason nodded, his posture straightening a bit. “Yeah,I’m not the biggest guy on the team, but I can outrun most of the defensive backs.”
“Speed beats size any day,” Drew said with authority. “That’s why Kane here is so good on the ice. He’s not the biggest forward, but he’s fast as fuck.”
“Language,” Abby said again, but she was laughing now.
“Sorry, Mom,” Drew teased, winking at her.
The conversation flowed easily after that, with Mason gradually becoming more animated as the guys asked him questions about football and whether he thought the LA Wolves—his favorite team—had any chance this year.
At one point, I glanced over at Abby and found her watching her brother with a tender expression. When she caught me looking, she mouthed “thank you,” her eyes bright with emotion. I reached under the table to squeeze her hand, feeling a surge of protectiveness and love for both her and Mason.
By the time Gordy brought out dessert—homemade apple crisp with vanilla ice cream—Mason was in the middle of describing a game-winning touchdown he’d caught last season, using salt and pepper shakers to demonstrate the play.
“…and then I got the game ball from coach for getting the touchdown,” he finished, grinning widely. “It was pretty awesome.”
“I bet,” Liam said, looking genuinely impressed. “You got the play on video?”
Mason nodded eagerly. “Yeah, I can show you guys sometime.”
“Fuck, yeah,” Drew said, high-fiving him. “We need to come to one of your games next season.”
“Language,” Abby said for the third time, but she wasbeaming now, watching her brother come alive under the positive attention.
The hockey guys had become my family over the past few years, and now that family was expanding to include Abby and Mason. Here we were, crowded around a table that was too small, eating food that was insanely good, laughing and talking like we’d all known each other forever. Mason was actually smiling—a real smile that reached his eyes—and Abby looked more relaxed than I’d seen her in weeks.
“What are you thinking about?” Abby asked quietly, leaning into my side as the others argued about which Marvel movie was the best.
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Just that this feels like how family should be.”
She nodded, her eyes moving from her brother—who was now animatedly defendingThor: Ragnarokagainst Drew’s insistence thatWinter Soldierwas superior—to the rest of our mismatched family.
