“If E has anything to say about it, you know they will.” A conspiratorial smirk graces JT’s face as he takes the open chair near CK.
“Fucking A.” E reaches out a fist to bump. “I may not have been able to get that asshat’s scholarship pulled four years ago, but you bet my sweet ass I’ll be making a phone call to Coach Daniels to remind him of his own beliefs on violence toward women.”
“Bruh.” B snorts, running a hand over his face.
“What?” E eyes his best friend.
“The phrase is ‘you bet your sweet ass’, not my.”
“One”—E makes a fist and extends his forefinger—“that’s’’—he swings his finger around to point at me—“my sister. I’m not going to comment on her ass. And two”—he extends his middle finger, wiggling them both inches in front of B’s nose—“you’re just jelly my ass is better than yours.”
“Lies!” B shouts, shooting up from the couch and cupping his butt in both hands.
“Do we need to do a side-by-side comparison and put it up for a vote on our IG stories again?” E asks, finding a way to brag about his win as Best Crabs Ass from years ago.
“Bring it, Dennings. I’ve been doing my squats. Your ass is grass this time.” B cocks a hip to spank himself in front of E’s face.
“Are they always like this?” Mase asks, his light eyes sparkling with his first true hint of amusement since I was admitted. It takes me a moment to look away from the captivating sight to where B is now twerking.
“Pretty much. It’s actually a miracle E was able to lock himself in as one of Jordan’s first non-hockey-playing athletes with the company he keeps.”
Jordan barks out a laugh. “Puh-lease. At least they argue with real-life people. Do you have any idea how often I have to listen to my brother argue about having a better ass than a fictional character during book club?”
“Oh my god.” Bette chokes on a laugh. “You have to be talking about Jase. I live for Lyle’s stories about your squad’s book club.”
I have to agree. I love when I’m around for Lyle’s—the most fabulous barista in existence—hair appointments. I could so go for a coffee from his coffee shop, Espresso Patronum, right now too.
I honestly think, outside of Jordan’s business partner Skye, there’s no one more suited to handle our family’s dynamics than Jordan. She comes from her own mashed-up crew with the similar belief that you don’t have to be related by blood to be considered family.
“Best ass title aside…” I’m jealous of how easily Jordan schools her features. “We shouldn’t have to worry about Penn. U of J, though…” Her words trail off as she refers to the iPad again. “Have you heard anything from your coach at all?” she asks Mase.
The bed dips as he shifts to pull his phone from his pocket. “It’s dead.” The screen remains dark when he presses the side button. “I remember it being low earlier from all the notifications.” He tosses it down next to me. “What makes you think Coach Knight would be reaching out?”
Jordan pulls up the UofJ411 page, and post after post scrolls by with the drag of her finger, each one a snapshot of something I missed while unconscious.
“I know when I swam for BTU, our athletic director would have alerts set up to stay informed on anything related to Titan athletes. I imagine it’s the same for the Hawks, especially with you having a consistently trending hashtag.”
A flash of guilt streaks across Mason’s features, and this time I’m the one giving his hand a squeeze. This isn’t on him. It is 100% me. I used my determination to avoid all things social media as an excuse to not take him back when we broke up. I spent weeks wallowing in my heartbreak, too afraid to give us a shot, all on the chance that Mase would think I wasn’t good enough for him.
While I still hate the intrusive questioning of #CasanovaWatch and #CasanovasGirl, I hope having Mase create a hashtag out of our ship name Kaysonova will help prove I won’t let social media run me off. I also want him to know how proud I am to call him mine.
I just hope he can still say the same about me and won’t—as Liam insinuated—think I am my mother’s daughter when I spill the last of my secrets.
#Chapter12
Most people will allude to going to plan B when A doesn’t work as