Page 12 of Racking Up Penalties
Of course, my mom calls and Miles presses accept on screen before I can stop him.
“Hi, Mrs. Johnson. Will you be sending more dinners soon?” Miles asks sweetly.
I smack his shoulder hard but smile when my mom laughs.
“Absolutely, tell Liam any requests you have. Miles, will you be joining us for Thanksgiving?” She asks.
“Mom! It’s not even November yet, don’t be asking about Thanksgiving,” I say.
Now Miles smacks my arm. “Sorry Mrs. J, my mom has reserved me this year. Trust me, it’s a sacrifice, her cooking is not as good as yours.”
“Miles, you are too sweet. Just like my boy.”
And now I’m blushing. Something Miles doesn’t fail to notice. He’s snickering. He will probably tell his best friend, Reed, all about it and they’ll make fun of me together at the next practice.
I love my mom more than anyone in the world. She has always been there for me and I owe her everything.
That doesn’t mean she doesn’t still embarrass me in front of my friends.
Lord help me when I bring a girl home to meet her.
Chapter 7
The late afternoon sun filters through the semi-drawn curtains, casting a warm glow over the cozy living room where I’m sprawled on the couch. Emma’s curled up in an armchair nearby, her fingers gently strumming her guitar, filling the space with soft, melodious hums that blend seamlessly with the comfortable silence between us. Her brother, Tristan, lounges on the opposite end of the sofa, one arm casually thrown over the backrest, his foot tapping to the rhythm of Emma’s tune.
“Ever thought about styling a band, Tessa?” Emma asks, breaking our comfortable hush with genuine curiosity.
“Could be fun,” I respond, my mind already racing with ideas of leather jackets and asymmetric hemlines. “Why? Got any rock stars hidden up your sleeve?”
“Of course you would want it to be rock stars. Maybe you should practice putting eyeliner on this one,” she teases with a nod toward Tristan, who chuckles, his deep blue gaze meeting mine.
“Please, I could barely pull off a punk look if my life depended on it,” he jests, his voice carrying a playful edge.
“Ah, but you’ve got the brooding artist vibe down,” I tease back, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through my chest. “A little eyeliner, some ripped jeans, and voilà!”
“Is that your professional opinion, or just an excuse to get me in eyeliner?” Tristan quips, a lopsided smile gracing his lips. There’s a mischievous glint in his eye, one that says he enjoys this dance of words as much as I do.
“Maybe both,” I retort, feeling daring for a moment before reality sinks in. I quickly add, “But don’t worry, I won’t.” My laugh is a bit too high-pitched, a clear giveaway of the nerves buzzing beneath my skin.
“Good to know,” he replies, his tone light, but there’s a depth to his response that suggests something more. His gaze lingers on me a second longer than necessary, sending another wave of excitement tingling down my spine.
Emma’s soft giggle pulls me back from the edge of the moment.
“Can you two stop flirting for like, five minutes?” Emma teases, though her voice is void of any real chastisement. If anything, she sounds amused, supportive even.
“Who’s flirting?” I deflect, feigning ignorance while subtly tucking a strand of my red hair behind my ear, suddenly self-conscious. “I’m just being friendly.”
“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” Tristan chimes in, his smile widening as he watches me squirm. It’s all in good fun.
“Anyway,” I pivot, eager to shift the focus, “back to business. Emma, if you ever want to go full-on glam rock, you know who to call.”
“Deal,” she responds, her laughter mingling with the notes of her guitar, creating a harmony that feels like home.
The door bursts open with a whirlwind of energy, and JD’s booming laughter precedes him as he strides into the room, his shoulders broad enough to eclipse the fading sunlight and his dark arms on display in a T-shirt that does not match the weather. “What’s up, party people?” he greets us, bringing with him the scent of the crisp autumn air.
“JD!” Emma leaps up from her cozy nest of cushions, her arms outstretched for a hug that JD gladly provides, lifting her off the ground in an easy motion that speaks volumes about his strength.
When her arms run over the exposed skin I understand why he wore it.
