Embarrassment or maybe shock flits across Mila’s face as she stares at me with wide blue eyes.
“Hey, Grey!” Evelyn wraps her arms around my shoulders in a hug as Mila turns away, studying the chessboard between her and Griffin. “Want to stay for dinner? It’s nothing fancy, just grilled cheese and tomato soup.”
“Yeah,” Hudson says, backing up, encouraging me farther into the apartment.
“Hi! Hi, Grey,” Griffin says, standing. He crosses the room with his arms spread, awaiting a hug.
Mila’s gaze drifts after him, watching our interaction with a hint of curiosity before she slips out of her seat to joins us, stopping at Evelyn’s side as Griffin pulls me into a firm hug.
“Want to see a new chess move?” Griffin asks, taking a step back.
“Why don’t we pause the game?” Hudson suggests. “You guys can finish after dinner.”
Griff looks bereft for half a minute before Evelyn asks him to help her make the sandwiches.
“You got home fast,” I say, turning to Mila.
She doesn’t react except for a slight shrug. “I was playing chess with Griff.”
Hudson messes up Mila’s hair by rubbing his palm over her scalp. She winces and ducks before shoving him toward the kitchen and looking at me. “What are you doing here?” She absently smooths the strands that Hudson displaced.
I step back to prevent myself from reaching forward to run my fingers through her hair and offer an assurance that would make her roll her eyes. “I called Hudson, and he mentioned he was over here with you guys, so I asked if I could stop by. I have a favor to ask you.” I give her a pointed look, intended to point out I’d asked her first.
“You’d get further making a bet with her,” Hudson taunts.
Mila cuts her eyes to him with a silent warning that Hudson laughs off. Slowly, she turns back to me, hesitation heavy on her brow. “What kind of a favor?”
“The booster club is hosting a party this Saturday for the team, and Linus Kemp and Emma will be there. I would appreciate it if you’d come as my date.”
Mila’s eyes flare just slightly before she schools her features. “No one is going to believe I’m your date.”
I scoff. “They might if you can pretend to lower your standards for two hours.”
Steely eyes snap to mine. “It has nothing to do with my standards. You look at me like I’m diseased when we’re near each other. Have you considered what this will entail? The whole team is going to be there. Nolan. Palmer. Freaking Lenny.” She waves a hand. “There’s no way this would work.”
“Diseased? You insisted on sleeping on the couch so you wouldn’t have to be close to me.”
“Because I knew you didn’t want me there.”
“I’m the one who offered for you to sleep beside me.”
She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. Doubt is etched across her face.
“The team won’t say shit. Trust me. If anyone understands the power of our boosters, it’s Palmer and Nolan. And Lenny will fall into line because as much as he likes to raise hell, he knows the team comes first.”
“They’re going to have a full dessert bar,” Hudson adds.
Mila bites low on the inside of her lip, making them almost look pursed. The expression drags my thoughts back to the hotel this weekend when she had done the same subtle action. And like a key turning in a lock, I realize I’ve seen her do this before, hiding her vulnerability behind those squared shoulders and sharp eyes.
“You love cake.” My comment is too quiet for the others to hear, intended to be a joke before promising her I’ll be on my best behavior to make this easier for her.
She sputters. “I can’t wait to hear Emma’s insults.” She bites the inside of her cheek, surprising me almost as much as it confuses me. Mila is pure confidence and swagger.
“If she tries to insult you, I’ll deal with it.”
Mila’s eyes flash with another steely look. “I don’t need you to defend me.”
I give her a sardonic look. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Her gaze sharpens, preparing to parry my words and land her own blow.
“It would be kind of fun for you to come Saturday,” Evelyn says. “We can eat all the desserts together, and if Emma says one word to you, I’ll accidentally set my plate on her seat before she sits down.”
Mila chuckles, not admonishing her for offering to stick up for her.
“Make sure they’re all chocolate,” Hudson adds.
Evelyn grins at him, a look that verifies he’s said the right words.
“Should we start the sandwiches, or does the soup need to be warmer?” Griffin asks, turning from where he’s finished buttering a tray filled with slices of bread.
“Let’s wait until it’s a little warmer,” Hudson says.
Mila turns to me. “How long are we going to carry on this charade?”
“This is the last time. After this, the boosters will only be interested in meeting with us to offer sponsorships.”
She releases a breath, and her shoulders slowly round. “You’re lucky two-thirds of my social life is already attending the party.”
I realize that’s the closest thing to an agreement I’ll receive. “I’ll be here at seven.”
She nods her acknowledgment before moving into the kitchen, where she leans against the counter, her back to me as she faces Griffin.
“Grey, what can I get you to drink?” Evelyn asks, opening the fridge and listing off a dozen beverages.
“I’m good with water,” I tell her. “How can I help?”
“You can help Hudson set the table if you want.”
Hudson opens the cupboard beside the sink, withdrawing a stack of plates as Evelyn offers me the glass of cold water.
Mila’s voice is animated but too soft to hear over the clang of the plates Hudson sets out and the fan over the stove where the steam curls off the soup.
Griffin belts out a laugh that has Mila grinning. Her eyes are a warmer, darker hue. I’ve learned that Mila, like her eyes, is comprised of multiple shades. She shines the brightest when she’s around Evelyn, Griffin, and Hudson, specifically during times when she doesn’t realize anyone’s paying attention.
“What are you two laughing about?” Evelyn asks.
“I was telling Griff about the icy patch I nearly broke my butt on after your sage advice,” Mila tells her.
Evelyn laughs, turning to look at Hudson. The two share a look that has jealousy slinking into my chest with so much intensity it’s a sharp breath. The way they often look at one another like they’re each other’s reason for breathing—existing—nearly eclipses my reasons for putting the entirety of my focus on school and football.
“No! No! No!” Evelyn protests, shaking her head before giggling, shaking me from my thoughts. “I warned you. I said it was slick.”
“You said I should have worn different shoes,” Mila objects.
Evelyn bends as a second wave of laughter hits her. “Because it was slippery!”
“Saying I should have worn different shoes doesn’t translate to: Watch out. It’s slippery.”
Tears have Evelyn wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands as she continues laughing.
Hudson shakes his head and turns to me. “Did you tell Krueger about Emma Kemp?” he asks, referring to our temporary head coach.
I shake my head. “I figured the fewer people involved, the better. I don’t want Krueger or anyone else to think I influenced Kemp. I didn’t know Emma and had never met her before that damned date.”
“She’s been around a few times. You probably didn’t notice.”
“I’m wondering if that was the only reason he offered me the sponsorship.”
Hudson grimaces. Despite his ease with politics, he still loathes them. “Bringing Mila is a solid choice.”
It was his suggestion. While flying home from Orlando, Krueger shared he’s encouraging the boosters to offer more paid sponsorships and to see us as more than just athletes. He insisted we needed to show the boosters other sides of ourselves, balanced, real people with families, relationships, and dreams.
I had already planned to ask Mila, hoping she’d ride out this lie a little farther with me when Hudson suggested I invite her. His reasons had been her understanding of the game, familiarity with politics and wealth, and how she wouldn’t be distracted by the team or the event because she’d been on red carpets in Hollywood as her father’s date.
My reasons weren’t half as illustrious.
“I asked around, and Emma sounds like the vengeful type. Don’t let Mila get caught in the crosshairs.”
“She’s jealous of Mila.”
Hudson raises his brows. “I can guarantee you that’s not what Mila thinks.”
“Did she say something?” I glance to where they’re assembling and cooking the sandwiches and then at Hudson as he shakes his head.
“No, and she won’t.”
The memory of her expression when that stranger yelled lewd and hateful comments have my fists clenching with regret.
“And Silva. Avoid Silva. I saw him yesterday when I met Krueger, and he is bitter as hell.”
Bitter doesn’t come close to describing the man Krueger has been working to find a way to ban from all booster events due to the reckless and rude comments he’s become trademarked for.
“I avoid him like a damn cornerback. Have you heard anything about Peters?” I ask.
Hudson grips the back of a dining room chair and shakes his head. “Krueger says he wouldn’t be shocked if he shows up to the event, but so far, he hasn’t shared anything about his intentions or whether he’ll be well enough to return to the head coach position come spring.”
I sigh. “I hope he takes an early retirement.” The shift of the team without Peters being on the field or in the locker room has been a complete one-eighty. If anyone doubted Peters’ lack of skill and leadership before, they have to notice a difference now that he’s gone. It’s as though we replaced the weak link.
“This Saturday, we have to be a unified front and talk about how well Krueger is doing. How the team is happy and thriving, but we need to tread carefully. If it looks like a coup, the boosters could turn on us, and we have one more year.”
I nod. I’d already considered the risk. My background didn’t teach me how to maneuver the system, though, only that I should keep my head down and my nose clean.
Griffin carries a plate piled high with sandwiches to the table while Mila and Evelyn follow him with bowls of soup.
I sit across from Hudson, and Mila sits beside me without so much as a glance.
“Okay, dinner question,” Griffin says, reaching for a small red box from the buffet table behind him.
“Why don’t we wait since we have company,” Mila says. “We can do it tomorrow before breakfast since you’re sleeping over.”
“It’s for three or more people,” Griffin says.
“Dinner question?” I ask.
“Griff got them in his stocking for Christmas,” Hudson says, taking one of the sandwiches before serving Griffin and passing me the dish. “They’re like icebreaker questions to get to know each other. Things like biggest fear, what animal would you be, what meal would you eat every day, that kind of thing.”
Griffin opens the box and withdraws a small white square. “What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done? And why did you do it?”
“I’ll go first,” Evelyn says. “Moving to Oleander Springs. Hands down.”
“Over quitting volleyball?” Mila asks.
“I mean, quitting was hard, but it wasn’t as scary as leaving almost everything I knew behind.”
“And why did you do it?” Griff asks.
Evelyn’s cheeks flush as she glances at Hudson, then Mila, and Griff before returning to Hudson with another private look. “Because home isn’t a place. It’s a person—people. And you guys are my people.”
Mila scoffs, and Evelyn’s cheeks flash red as she glares at her.
“You want to go next, Griff?” Hudson asks.
“Moving to that place.” He nods several times as he shifts forward and then back with a slow rocking motion. The place was an assisted living facility that Griffin had moved into during our freshman year that nearly led to Hudson quitting football because having his brother living so far away and being unhappy made him miserable. “I had to move there. Dad thought it would help me.”
“That was hard, huh?” Hudson asks, setting his hand on Griffin’s. “But you were so brave to try making it work and telling us that you weren’t happy.”
Griffin nods, still rocking.
“Who’s next?” Hudson asks. “Grey?”
“Playing football for Camden.”
Evelyn balks, even Hudson looks surprised.
“I was a backup option. My high school team was pretty terrible. No one knew about us. I was recruited because my mom won tickets to a Camden game and gave them to my buddy and me. His seat was chosen for the halftime drawing, and he let me go down in his place. They had the field set up with one of those gauntlet scenes they do. I guess the athletic director was impressed because he gave my name to the coaches. They came out and scouted me a couple of times but didn’t recruit me until a kid out of Minnesota turned down the scholarship last minute. I didn’t know if I’d live up to the potential.”
“And now you’re being scouted by the NFL,” Hudson says. “I suddenly hate our athletic director a little less.”
“Hate isn’t a nice word,” Griffin tells him.
Hudson nods. “Dislike.”
Griffin turns to Mila. “Your turn.”
She blinks and looks away from me. “Um, do you remember how hard it was to pick an apartment this summer?”
Griffin’s shoulders slump. “Do you want to reread the rules?”
She grins. “I remember.” Mila releases a sigh. “Adoption court was the scariest thing I’ve ever done.” She clears her throat. “Like you, Griff, I did it because I had to.”
“What’s adoption court?” Griffin asks.
“It was when Jon and Alex adopted me, and I legally became their daughter.”
Griffin stares at her. “You had to go to court?”
She nods.
“Why was it scary?” Griffin asks.
Mila bites that low spot on her bottom lip. “Because I didn’t want to leave.”
“Leave?” Griffin looks perplexed. “Where would you have gone?”
Mila licks her lips. “Back to Oklahoma.”
“But…” Griffin looks from Mila to Hudson. “I didn’t know you were from Oklahoma.”
“You were only six when I moved in.” Mila leans back in her chair, her voice soft and patient as it is every time she interacts with Griffin.
He blinks at her, trying to process the onslaught of information. “Who would you have lived with in Oklahoma? Your old family?”
“I’m pretty sure that question isn’t on the card,” Hudson says.
Griffin shakes his head. “But I don’t understand.”
“It’s complicated,” Mila says.
“Griff,” Hudson says. “That’s enough.”
“But…” Griff begins.
“Just one question, bud,” Hudson says. “She answered. It’s my turn.”
Griffin turns a pleading gaze to Mila and begins rocking again in his seat.
Mila rubs her lips together and then gently tilts her head to the side and swallows, her eyes bright with unshed tears that cause an ache in my chest to form and expand faster than I can blink. “I wanted to live with Jon and Alex,” she says. “It was just … intense.”
Hudson looks at Mila, wearing his captain’s face as he surveys the situation and how to respond just like he does on the field.
“What are we going to do tonight after dinner?” Hudson asks.
Mila points at Griffin. “Griff hasn’t finished beating me at chess. I’m waiting to see the new move, and maybe we can watch The Santa Clause.” It’s Griffin’s favorite movie. Hudson jokes he can recite it.
“And make hot chocolate?” Griffin asks.
“A hot chocolate bar,” Mila tells him. “I picked up four kinds of marshmallows and three flavors of hot chocolate.” She looks at Evelyn. “I think Hadley’s corrupted me.”
Evelyn grins, but I notice a residual sadness in her eyes.
“Griff, did you hear how many flavors of cheesecake Hadley made before New Year’s? I think there were six varieties.”
“Eight,” Hudson says.
The conversation turns to cheesecake and the holidays before jogging to their shared childhood. Stories about their attempts to beat world records, peppered with memories that keep the conversation light and constant. I’m sure it’s to prevent questions from returning to Mila’s childhood where my own thoughts are stuck as I once again imagine Mila as a child facing uncertainty and inconsistency rather than the confident and independent woman she is, surrounded by wealth and comfort.
