When he leaves the room, I quickly take control of the conversation, launching into a discussion about Penny’s new promotion. The three of us dog pile her for a congratulatory hug and she giggles as she shrugs us off.
“Guys, I’ve been working at the Frosty Pitcher forever now. Getting the manager position was long overdue,” she says to downplay the accomplishment. She turns back to stirring the rice.
“Yes, it was,” Lexi says, looking away from the vegetables she’s chopping. “They overlooked you far too long.” She lifts a zucchini in salute. “Cheers, girl.”
Jessa buzzes around the room refilling wine glasses. I’ve never met anyone with as much bubbly energy as she has. The girl is like Snow White on a caffeine high. “That promotion was definitely well-deserved.”
I catch the rueful expression that crosses my cousin’s face. “Well, it’s about time I move forward on something in my life…” Her words are cryptic and she mutters them beneath her breath.
“What does that mean?” Lexi questions, taking a sip of the water she chose over wine tonight. She never lets any of us be hard on ourselves. She’s the most protective friend.
Penny’s shoulder juts up, then it falls. “It’s just…I’m almost thirty-three. I’m still a bartender. Still not using my degree. No long-term relationship in sight. It’s all just a little frustrating, y’know?”
My cousin is an absolute stunner, the type of woman everyone notices when she walks into a room. She exudes confidence with her red hair, green eyes and throbbing sex appeal. It’s easy to forget she has her own insecurities. Her rare vulnerable moments can be a little disorienting.
Jessa leans against the counter with her wine glass, nibbling on the carrot sticks her sister just finished chopping. “I understand your pain, hun,” she says sympathetically. “When I moved to town, I thought I’d only be working at the coffee shop for a few months before finding myself a teaching job. But it’s going on two years now! And don’t even get me started about my sex life. I swear—even my vibrator is sick of me.” She pouts. “Hell, I thought I’d be married by now.”
I look up from where I’m prepping the chicken breasts. “Oh, marriage is definitely no automatic guarantee of a satisfying sex life.” I lean in and lower my voice just in case Jude is nearby. “Kirk didn’t even touch me for the last two years of our marriage.” That kind of thing has an effect on a woman's psyche. It shattered my self-esteem.
Am I so repulsive that my husband would rather deprive himself of sex than have it with me? Not that Kirk was depriving himself of anything, as I learned during our divorce proceedings.
My cheeks heat as my friends’ horrified gasps fill the room.
I crack a joke in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. “If you’re looking for marriage to fulfill you, you could end up disappointed. You might as well just get a cat, rent out your spare room and call it a day.”
Lexi shakes her head in disagreement. “Guys, it’ll happen,” she says assuredly. “You’ll all find love. When you least expect it. Trust me on that.” My friend aims a hopeful smile at me.
Penny turns back to the stove and sighs. “I’m not stressing myself over love. I’m just gonna look at this promotion as an opportunity to start saving money for my future, for the things I really want down the line.”
“Things like what?” Jessa asks and we all look on interestedly for Penny’s response.
My cousin flushes. “Just…just…” She shrugs a shoulder. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
We press her for a while but it becomes obvious that whatever she’s planning, she’s not ready to talk about it yet. Eventually, we move on from that topic.
Soon, Lexi’s briefing us on the goings-on at her bridal shop. Then, the conversation veers to the latest gossip Jessa picked up at her part-time job at Jittery Joe’s Coffee Shop. We talk and laugh and drink wine as we work together to whip up a chicken teriyaki loaded with veggies from my garden.
As I’m plating up the meal, Jude comes into the kitchen. He throws a cursory look at the wok pan I’m hunched over but pretends not to take notice. He hobbles to the freezer and grabs a TV dinner.
He makes his way to the microwave and lingers awkwardly as his factory-made dinner heats up. Lexi tilts her head at his back and gives me a suggestive eyebrow jerk.
No way.
I am not inviting this guy to have dinner with us. He and I aren’t friends. We have a landlord-tenant relationship and I refuse to blur those lines by sitting down to a meal together.
But the other girls are in agreement with Lexi. Penny throws me a telepathic reprimand as Jessa wordlessly hands me an extra plate.
No, I say with my eyes.
Yes, Lexi responds with another deft jerk of her brows.
No.
The microwave dings and Jude retrieves his sad-looking spaghetti with the dried-out tomato sauce and the cheese all burnt and clinging to the sides of the little box. Something like sympathy fizzles at the back of my mind. That meal of his really doesn’t look too appetizing. But I’m not giving in.
Lexi hate-glares at me again.
“Have a great evening, ladies.” Jude dishes out another one of those grins of his as he grabs a fork.
“Have a great evening,” my friends call out.
He throws one last longing glance at the stir-fry and heads for the stairs.
Lexi slaps down a kitchen towel on the counter and folds her arms over her chest. “Seriously, Iris?!” she hisses with a glance to where her forlorn brother-in-law disappeared.
Jessa pins me with a look. It’s downright judgy.
Ugh!
Already, my resolve is cracking. I hate being the bad guy.
“Fine.” I march off in Jude’s direction. “Hey?” I call out from the bottom step.
Standing at the top of the landing, he turns that broad body to face me.
“Um, we have a lot of extra food,” I say. “I don’t know if you’d like to join us or…”
Before I even finish stating my offer, he’s already wobbling his way down the stairs. “If it’s not too much of an imposition,” he says.
I turn away from him and roll my eyes at his faux modesty. But hell—there’s a little grin on my face.
8
Jude
Penny’s shoulders rock with her giggles. She leans over the table with her wine glass cupped in her hands. “Oh, my god. That is the creepiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
This particular story always gets an uproarious reaction so it’s one of my favorites to tell when I’m trying to charm a crowd.
Jessa shakes her head again and repeats the twisted plot. “So, for half a semester, she pretended to be a kinesiology major?”
I nod.
“Just so she could get access to the football team’s training facilities?”
I nod again.
“And have access to the underwear of every guy on the college football team?”
I’m laughing too at how ridiculous it sounds. “And then, she opened an auction site to sell the dirty underwear to the highest bidder,” I finish the story.
Lexi watches me, fingers curled around her water glass as she giggles. “And what happened to her when she got caught?”
I pick the broccoli out of the stir-fry with my fork. I shrug. “She got suspended for a few days. One of the rich guys on the team threatened to press charges. Nothing came of it, though.” I bring a forkful of chicken and rice to my mouth.
“Oh my gosh!” Jessa laughs. “I wonder where she is now…”
“Actually, I heard she went on to head up some online pro-athlete underwear crime ring. She was in jail for a little while. I think she’s doing community service for the next few months.” I take another big bite of chicken.
“Wow! Old habits die hard,” Lexi jokes.
The food is delicious. Far tastier than that pre-portioned frozen meal I had planned to eat for dinner. And the girls have loosened up after too many glasses of wine.
&nbs
p; I’m sitting between Jessa and Penny. Iris is right across from me, next to Lexi. She’s quiet. Just like she used to be on the rare occasion that a group of us would hang out in college. That’s just how she gets in a crowd.
A part of me wants her to warm up to me the way her friends have. I’m not even sure why it matters. I guess I just don’t want her looking at me like I’m the enemy all the damn time. But she’s been giving me these cautious looks all night, like she’s trying to figure out my intentions.
Jessa notices the tense, fleeting eye contact Iris and I share. She leans an elbow on the table, her glassy eyes evidencing her wine buzz. “So you two were friends in college?” Jessa motions between Iris and me with her fork.
“Yes,” I respond, just as Iris says, “No.”
I turn to her. She turns to me. We stare each other down.
“You wouldn’t say we were friends?” My tone is light and teasing. The question is pretty much rhetorical since I already know the answer.
Emboldened by her wine, she lifts a brow challengingly. “If by ‘friends’ you mean that you excluded me from all social events, tried to come between my boyfriend and me, and generally made me feel shitty about myself, then yes, we were besties.”
Ouch!
I tilt my head to the side. I feel my megawatt grin fading down to barely a flicker of a smile. “Oh, come on. I wasn’t that bad.”
Above the fresh floral centerpiece in the middle of the table, she gives me a you’re-not-serious-right-now look. A flush sprouts up the length of her neck before spilling onto her cheeks. “Jude—you called me ‘Face-in-Book’ all throughout my freshman year. You refused to even learn my name. It was so juvenile.” After the words leave her lips, her eyes widen, telling me this is something she’d never admit sober.
And I’m glad she’s drunk.
At least she’s talking because it’s about time we get this animosity out in the open, address these fucking issues.
“Face-in-Book?” Lexi asks, her tone protective. “What does that mean?” Cannon’s wife may be new to the family but the fierce look on her face tells me if I say the wrong thing to her best friend, she will not hesitate to hand me my ass.
Iris’s pale blue peepers narrow on my face. “Face-in-Book? Oh, it was his not-so-subtle way of calling me unattractive.”
“Unattractive?!” I spit out.
She nods once, full of conviction. “I’m guessing he meant my face belonged behind a book since he couldn’t stomach looking at it.”
A horrified expression covers my sister-in-law’s face. I can feel Penny and Jessa tensing on either side of me. The playful mood of this dinner has evaporated under Iris’s ultra-red glare.
I focus on her, zeroing in on her angry features to the exclusion of everybody else in the room. “That’s what you thought Face-in-Book meant?”
She grabs the wine bottle and tops up her glass. “What else could it mean?” she challenges.
I want to address the ‘unattractive’ comment head-on because it’s the biggest load of crap I’ve heard all day.
Iris Merlini is not unattractive. Iris Merlini pulses goddess vibes every time she walks into the room. Her voluptuous body could make a grown man shaky on his knees. Her soft-looking lips make my own mouth tingle for a taste. Her timidness only makes her more endearing.
Those are the things I want to say.
But I can’t say that to my friend’s ex-wife. Especially not in front of all her girlfriends. Comments like that would send the ‘awkward meter’ into the stratosphere. So, I completely side-step the issue of my attraction to the woman and go with a safer response.
“Face-in-Book meant that you always preferred to have your head in your books instead of looking up and making connections with the people around you. I did not isolate you, Iris. You isolated yourself.”
Her jaw twitches as a response fights to come out. But she swallows it back, exercising her self-restraint. Like I should have a few seconds ago before I went on ranting.
Y’know what? This has been a lovely evening up until this point and I have a niggling feeling that if I stick around any longer, I’m just gonna fuck it all up. Better to quit while I’m ahead.
I rise up from the table, my eyes still on my glaring roommate. I just can’t resist one last dig. “College was a long-ass time ago. But some people just want to stay trapped in the past. A lot has happened since then. So you might want to stop and consider that you're basing your character assessment of me off of out-dated information.” I should probably end my rant right there, but when it comes to my big mouth, as usual, I’m lacking in self-control. “And for the record, I always found you attractive, Iris. Beautiful. You’ve only gotten more beautiful with time.”
Okay, yup. Too far. I went too far.
My roommate looks like she wants to tear off my balls and dunk them into my teacup. Steep, baby. Steep.
A tight, itchy silence blankets the room as Iris and I glare at each other. I address the other women at the table. “Thank you for dinner, ladies. It was delicious.”
I grab my empty plate, tuck it into the dishwasher and drag my ass up to my bedroom.
9
Jude
Ma sets down a steaming teacup on the table, right next to my plate of warm-from-the-oven apple pie.
“Did I put too much sugar? Is it too sweet?” She fusses as I take my first sip. “Is it too hot?” She presses the back of her hand against my forehead. “Oh look at you, poor thing. You’re sweating.”
Walker throws a glare at me from under the brim of his straw hat. He’s across the deck, tightening a loose screw on the porch gate. “He’s sweating because he’s drinking tea in eighty-six degree weather,” he mutters, expression heavy with irritation.
I’ve always been amazed by Walker’s ability to convey so much vitriol with so few words. It’s an impressive skill that doesn’t get nearly enough recognition.
Ma doesn’t register my oldest brother’s smart-ass comment, though. She’s too busy fluffing up the cushion behind my back. “Walker, go get him the table fan. The extension cord should be able to reach.”
As the youngest of the Kingston boys, it’s basically my biological obligation to give my older brothers shit. So, I can’t resist the urge to razz him. “Yeah, Walker. The extension cord should be able to reach.” I serve myself another slice of pie.
My brother’s response is an eyeroll.
It’s a sunny afternoon. We’re all chilling on the back porch of the Kingston Family Inn. And I’m seriously starting to question why I subject myself to the awkwardness over at Iris’s place when I could just move here and get the royal treatment twenty-four-seven.
My mother loves fawning over me. Really, I’m the one doing her a favor.
She focuses her devoted attention on me. “Do you need anything else, sweetie?”
I rub my thigh that’s elevated on the empty chair beside me. “Maybe some more ice for my knee, please?”
My mother smiles dutifully. “Oh, yes, honey. Of course. Right away.”
“Thanks, Ma. You’re the best.” I stuff another bite of delicious pie into my face as she scurries inside through the screen door.
Callie snickers from where she’s tucked against my father’s side across the table.
“What are you laughing at?” I scrunch up my nose at my four-year-old niece and grin.
“Uncle Jude’s a big baby.” She licks her sticky fingers and digs into her basket of crayons.
“You’re the big baby,” I say, “With that ice cream you have all over your face.” I stick out my tongue and shove a wad of paper towels at her.
She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and giggles adorably.
When Mom rushes back out with an ice pack and some towels, my father looks up from his newspaper and shakes his head. “Diana, it’s a knee injury. He’s not in palliative care.” He takes a drink of his beer.
“A bunch of haters you all are.” Playfully, I shoot narrowed glares aroun
d at my family. “You guys are all just jealous ‘cause I’m Ma’s favorite.”
Callie halts her coloring to hit me with a glare. “I’m Nana’s favorite,” the child deadpans, daring me to challenge her.
Walker pauses with the screwdriver in hand. Over his flannel-covered back, he throws me a don’t-you-dare-argue-with-the-four-year-old look. I chuckle. I’m not that much of an asshole.
And the truth is, Mom and Dad would die for that child. They’re the closest thing to parents she has. Her father, Eli, has been in jail for over a year now. Her mother hasn’t been seen or heard from for just as long. Thank god the little girl has the rest of us Kingstons in her corner.
I’m grateful to have them, too. I don’t know how I would have managed this injury without my family’s support. The minute I got hurt, Cannon was ringing down every phone in the league to get information about my injury. Walker stayed with Callie so my parents could jump in their car and drive all the way up to Iowa to be with me. And after Mom and Dad returned home, not a day went by without them video-calling to make sure I was taking care of myself. I’m lucky to be a part of this tribe.
Ma squeezes herself onto the arm of Dad’s chair. He takes a second to smile up at her and affectionately stroke her lower back. She drapes an arm around his shoulder.
“Have you been getting enough sleep?” she asks me.
“Been sleeping great, Ma.”
“And eating?”
“Eating great,” I tell her. “Lots of veggies,” I throw in snarkily.
She gives me a doubtful look. She knows me too well.
“Iris has a vegetable patch.” I laugh.“The USDA would be so proud of me with how many servings of leafy greens I’ve been eating every day.”
Ma settles in her own seat. She picks up a clean plate and serves herself a slice. “So, Iris Merlini, huh?”
Mister Baller: A Small Town Enemies-to-Lovers Sports Romance (Bad Boys in Love Book 2) Page 6