Page 72 of Racking Up Penalties
Chapter 32
The engine of Liam’s beat-up sedan purrs to life. I adjust in the passenger seat, my fingers idly tracing the edge of my sweater dress as I try to suppress the flutters of excitement within me. I like getting this time with just my three guys and me on this drive.
“Ready for some tunes?” Liam asks, his gray eyes catching mine before he turns to the dashboard.
“Hit us with your best,” I reply, my voice steadier than I feel. My gaze flickers to the backseat, where Tristan is scrolling through his phone, his blue eyes reflecting a calm that makes me envious, and Ethan, whose intense brown stare seems lost in thought.
Liam turns it on and his choice is impeccable.
“Good pick,” Ethan grunts from behind, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Let the road trip begin!” Tristan’s proclamation comes with a playful punch to Ethan’s shoulder.
I’m nervous to meet Liam’s mom. It’s one thing to be dating three guys and another entirely to meet the family.
“Hey, Tess, you good?” Liam asks, his voice smooth and comforting, yet tinged with an excitement that matches the energy of the song he’s chosen.
“Absolutely,” I reply, hoping my smile looks more convincing than it feels. My gaze shifts to the rear view mirror, catching Ethan’s eyes for a moment. There’s a silent conversation there, one of reassurance. He nods slightly and I turn back to face the road.
In the backseat, Tristan and Ethan have fallen into easy banter. Their laughter spills forward, filling the car with a lightness that seeps into my bones. They’re talking about some ridiculous mishap at Tristan’s football practice.
The road unfurls before us, a ribbon of possibilities underneath the hum of the engine. I suggest a game of ‘20 Questions’ to pass the time, eager to learn even more about these guys.
“Sounds fun,” Ethan says from behind me, his voice tinged with excitement.
“Who goes first?” Tristan chimes in, already leaning forward between the front seats, eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Let’s let Tessa start,” Liam decides, throwing me a grin that could light up the darkest of nights. I feel my cheeks warm at being put on the spot but shake off the nerves.
“Okay,” I begin, tapping my lip in thought. “Ethan, what’s your most embarrassing childhood memory?”
A contemplative silence falls over the car, and then Ethan bursts into laughter. He recounts a tale involving a school play, a pair of forgotten lines, and an improvised dance that had the audience in stitches. My stomach aches with laughter as he describes twirling across the stage like a disoriented ballerina.
“Wait, you? Dancing?” Tristan laughs, disbelief etched in every syllable.
“Hey,” Ethan protests, feigning offense, “I’ll have you know I was the star of that show, even if it wasn’t for the reasons I had hoped.”
“More like the clown,” Liam teases from the front, and we all dissolve into laughter again.
“My dad was so pissed,” Ethan confesses quietly.
My heart drops that Ethan had to suffer under his dad for so long.
“Well, you’re not with him anymore so if you want to dance across a stage then the three of us will cheer you on,” Liam says, determined to make Ethan realize he’s not alone anymore.
My heart pounds as Liam and Ethan share a long look through the rear view mirror. When Ethan smiles, it feels like I can breathe again.
Things quickly turn into all of us telling stories from our childhoods.
“Remember the time we tried to bake cookies for the football team?” Tristan’s voice pulls me from my reverie, and I turn my head to see his nostalgic smile reflected in the window.
“How could I forget?” I laugh, the memory sharp and vivid. “We nearly set your kitchen on fire.”
“Nearly?” Tristan raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Pretty sure we did when you tried to make them ‘extra crispy.’”
“Hey! You were the one who convinced me that broiling was the same thing as baking!” I retort, the warmth of the memory seeping through the embarrassment of our high school naivety.
“Details, details,” he chuckles, shaking his head. His deep blue eyes meet mine, crinkling at the edges with genuine affection.
