The Sweet Talker (Boston Hawks Hockey #1) - Gina Azzi Page 0,55

makes me grin. “With a net,” I admit as my family’s laughter swells.

Aiden wraps an arm around my shoulders and hugs me close again. “That’s why you’re the best, Indy. Your heart’s too damn big.”

“She’s always been that way,” Aunt Mary agrees, taking a sip of wine.

Dad brushes a kiss over the top of my head. Pockets of conversation break out as small plates are filled with the assortment of appetizers Mom spread out on the kitchen island. Wine corks are popped, beers are opened, and laughter flows as easily as the alcohol. Through it all, Noah is quiet. Reserved. Very unlike himself.

But his eyes rarely leave me and every time I catch his gaze, they’re dark and desperate, brimming with a sadness I don’t comprehend.

“Ugh, it was the worst first date ever,” I groan, raising a hand to my face.

“Wait, wait. We never heard this one.” Austin points at me but his eyes are on Aiden. “You gotta tell it, man.”

Thanksgiving dinner was a success. Our bellies are stuffed, our cheeks are rosy, and Mom is clearing the table for dessert with Aunt Mary’s help. Dad and Uncle Joe are chatting in the kitchen but the “kids” have taken over the den. For the past fifteen minutes, Aiden has been sharing embarrassing tales of my childhood with my cousins and Noah, and I’ve been blushing and laughing along with them.

But this story… I cut Aiden a look. “Don’t.”

He grins back, tugging on my hair. “But you looked so beautiful that night.”

“Oh my God.” I snort, pushing his shoulder. Aiden wraps his hand around my wrist and tugs me down until I’m perched in his lap.

He leans around me and gazes at Austin, Claire, and Noah. Austin and Claire look ready to burst into laughter, knowing an embarrassing story is coming. But Noah looks livid. His jaw could shatter steel and a muscle ticks in his forehead. His grip on his beer bottle is so tight, his knuckles are white. Still, he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask me if we can talk so he can tell me what the hell is going on.

By this point, I’m annoyed by his less than stellar attitude. He’s the first guy since Jace who has spent a holiday with my family. My best friend is in town visiting. Instead of being charismatic, Noah is surly. And I’m disappointed in him. As such, I look away and focus my attention on Aiden as he says the words I dread. “The afternoon of Indy’s date, she insisted my brother and I include her in our baseball game.”

Austin groans, knowing where this is going.

“I tried to talk her out of it. We were playing with a bunch of guys on the Varsity team and they were all pretty good. But Indy tagged along to the park, begging my brother, John, to let her play. When we got to the park, we’re short a player and so John reluctantly agrees, telling her she’s going to play in left field. We’re in the sixth inning, the score is tied, and a beast of a guy—”

“Clarke,” I say, remembering the senior with perfect clarity.

“Clarke”—Aiden nods—“steps up to the plate and hits a wicked line drive, right past the third baseman. Indy, not actually in left field but hovering around the edge of the infield picking dandelions—”

Austin snickers as Claire grins. Noah glances at me, his eyes softer than they’ve been all night.

“Indy looks up, wondering what all the commotion is, and the ball hits her right in the face.”

“Shit,” Austin says, looking at me. “Were you okay?”

I shake my head as Aiden continues. “She went down. Like, out cold. Everyone is running over to her. Someone is calling her mom. Guys are swearing, looking panicked. I slide next to her and slip my hand under her head. I’m calling her name, cradling her head in my hand, screaming at John to call Dad. And Indy’s eyes flutter open and she looks right at me. Her mouth is moving but I can’t hear her words so I lean closer. ‘Indy,’ I say, ‘are you okay? Can you move?’ And she looks right at me and says, ‘Aiden Hardsin, if my face is bruised for my date tonight, I’m never speaking to you again!’”

We all crack up.

“How bad was the bruise?” Claire asks me.

“She had two black eyes and an intense bump on her forehead,” Aiden answers.

Austin snickers. “What’d your date say?”

I wrinkle my nose, standing from Aiden’s knee. “He asked to