Page 65 of Racking Up Penalties
“Man, he’s stressing about cash,” I remember saying, my words hanging between us, heavy with concern. “We’ve got that extra room just sitting there.”
Miles had nodded, his usual nonchalance replaced by a rare seriousness. “Yeah, we should help him out. No brainer.” His agreement had been immediate, unquestioning. That’s just how Miles operates; if one of us is in trouble, we all are.
“Earth to Liam,” Tessa teases now, pulling me back to the present. Her laughter is the kind that lights up a room, infectious and genuine. I can’t help but smile in return.
“Sorry, just thinking,” I murmur, hoping my face doesn’t betray the weight of those thoughts. I glance over at Ethan, who’s trying to focus on his textbook again, the furrow between his brows speaking volumes.
I hop up and catch Miles by the elbow as he turns to leave, our brief eye contact a silent conversation. “Hey, can we talk for a sec?”
“Sure thing, Liam.” His voice is casual, but there’s an undercurrent of understanding that tells me he remembers our discussion from last night.
We retreat to a corner of the room. I lean against the wall, arms crossed, while Miles stands opposite me, backpack still hanging off one shoulder.
“About what you said last night…” My throat feels unexpectedly tight. This isn’t just about offering a room; it’s about offering a home. And maybe, in some way, making up for all the times I couldn’t be there for him when we were kids.
“Did you think it over?” Miles asks, running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, I did. And I… I think he needs—”
“Let’s do it.” He cuts me off with a nod, decisive. “Ethan’s on the team and I trust your judgment.”
I nod back, grateful for Miles’ easy acceptance.
“Hey, Ethan,” I call out, motioning him over. As he approaches, I read the hesitation in his steps, see the stress lingering in the lines around his eyes.
“Everything cool?” he asks, trying to keep his tone light.
Miles and I exchange a glance before I say, “We’ve got an extra room at our place. We want you to move in—you know, to save on rent and stuff.”
Ethan blinks, once, twice. A myriad of emotions flit across his face: confusion, disbelief, hope. “You serious?” His voice is barely above a whisper.
“Dead serious.” I try to imbue confidence into my words.
“Guys…” His throat bobs as he swallows hard, the tough facade crumbling just a bit. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything,” Miles chimes in, clapping Ethan on the back. “Just pack your bags, man.”
“Thank you,” Ethan manages, voice thick with something that sounds suspiciously like relief. He looks from me to Miles, and there’s a sheen of gratitude in those intense brown eyes. “Really, thank you.”
“Hey, what are teammates for, right?” I say, feeling my chest swell with a sense of purpose. This is good.
“Right,” Ethan agrees, a small smile breaking through.
And just like that, the weight on Ethan’s shoulders seems a little lighter. I watch as he returns to his seat, to his study notes, but now there’s a different energy about him—an ease that wasn’t there before.
“Nice move,” Tessa whispers to me, her smile knowing and proud as I sit at the table.
“Thanks.” I let out a breath.
We go back to studying, everyone feeling lighter. There is a lot of flirting with Tessa and encouragement when she tells us she’s looking for an investor for her clothing company.
“Next week is a holiday,” Tristan starts, suddenly serious. “What’s everyone doing for Thanksgiving?”
“Nothing.” Tessa shrugs.
“Same,” Ethan murmurs, though his expression tightens just enough to notice.
“Mom would love to have you guys over,” I offer, the words rolling out before I can second-guess them. “She’s all about that ‘more the merrier’ life, especially on Thanksgiving.”
