The Endgame Is You (Rixon Raiders #4) - L A Cotton Page 0,45
had was rare.
Special.
It was a fucking blessing.
And I thanked the universe every day for giving me two of the best friends a guy could ask for.
“Mya, it’s so lovely to see you.” Mom pulled my girl into her arms and my heart swelled watching the two of them.
They’d formed a special bond after the shooting, and it was a giant relief that the two most important women in my life got on.
“Son.” Dad extended his hand and I accepted it. “It’s good to see you both.”
It had only been a few days since he drove out to see me, but it was the weekend before the team’s first game, so we wanted to do dinner before life became too hectic to see them.
“Something smells delicious.” Mom beamed.
“I slaved for hours over this, you’d better enjoy it,” I teased, shooting Mya a knowing wink.
“Let me guess, sweetheart,” Mom said to Mya. “You did all the heavy lifting.” She chuckled.
“Ash likes to think he prepared everything, but sitting on the stool, giving me instructions on how to chop the onion—”
“Hey, I helped.”
“Give up now, Son,” Dad suggested, managing a rare smile.
“Fine, fine. Steal all my thunder.”
“Oh, hush.” Mom came over and ruffled my hair, her eyes clouded with melancholy.
She’d found it hard after everything to let me go, but she understood, perhaps better than anyone, my desire to follow Mya to Temple.
“Why don’t you get your parents a drink?” Mya said, “and I’ll finish up in here.”
“Sure thing.” I moved around Mom and went to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Holler for me if you need any help.”
“I think I have it handled,” Mya mumbled, going back to stirring the contents of the pan.
“Come on, why don’t we wait in the living room?” I got them a drink each and we made our way through the apartment. I took a seat in a chair, leaving the couch for Mom and Dad.
“How are classes?” Mom asked.
“Good.”
“And the team?”
“We’re looking strong. It should be a good season.”
“That’s great, Andy. Isn’t that great?” She frowned, as my father toyed with something on the sideboard.
“Andrew?”
“What is this?” He turned slowly and my stomach sank.
Shit.
He was holding the fostering information leaflet Mya had brought home for me to look at.
“Asher, what is this?” he repeated.
“Relax, Dad,” I replied. “It’s just a leaflet.”
“About fostering.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing, Andy. Probably something to do with Mya’s course. Come sit down,” Mom patted the couch.
He dropped the leaflet on the side and joined us. “Tell me you’re not seriously considering fostering, Son?”
“And if we were?” I sat straighter, feeling a lick of irritation up my spine.
“Be reasonable, Asher. You’re just kids. You have your whole lives ahead of you to think about kids. I thought you wanted to focus on the business, on growing—”
“I do,” I snapped, hating that no matter how hard he tried to be better, to do better, underneath it all, Andrew Bennet was still the same rigid, narrow-minded man he’d always been.
“Did you know that lots of young professionals foster?”
“Sweetheart, this is... well, it’s a lot.” Mom looked flustered. “I thought Mya wanted to graduate and do her social work training?”
“She does, but her heart is with working with kids. This is the best of both worlds.”
“Now, hang on a minute, Son. It sounds like you’ve already made the decision. You’re in junior year. There’s still two years left of—”
“Hmm, is everything okay?” Mya appeared in the doorway.
“Actually,” I said, standing. “I was just telling my parents about the fostering thing.”
“You were?” Her eyes darted to them and back to me, confusion glittering in her gaze.
“Yeah, my dad noticed the leaflet and had some questions.” I gave him a tight smile.
“I see. Well, it’s really only a pipe dream at the moment,” she said.
“Asher made it sound like it’s already decided,” Dad clipped out and I heard my mom shush him.
“He did, did he?” Mya narrowed her eyes, slowly approaching me. “What are you doing?” she mouthed.
Roping my arm around her waist, I pulled her close. “I’ve been thinking… and I think we should do it. As soon as you turn twenty-one, we should see about getting our license and—”
“Whoa, slow down.” Strangled laughter spilled from her lips. “We still have to graduate.”
“I know. But I’ve been thinking about Xander and Hugo and all the work you do at New Hope. If we can give some kid a safe place and security and a chance at a better future, we should do it.”