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Hooked by Love

Page 9

   


With my fork in my hand, I watch as she stares him down. “You know, it’s kinda weird that Jayden and Baylor have been married, what, three months now, and this is the first time you’ve been to dinner?”
He looks up from his dish, and I notice that Jayden and Jude haven’t started eating either. They are waiting for an answer too. We must be the only ones worried about this, or thinking things about it, because everyone else is eating, not curious as to why our coach is here.
“Yeah, Autumn invited me after the parents’ meeting a couple weeks ago.”
Autumn? When the hell did he start calling my mom Autumn?
Her name is Mrs. Sinclair, and she is my mom!
And a couple weeks ago?
What? What the hell?
Glancing at my mom, she is grinning. Like, really grinning.
“I’ve always invited him, but he accepted this time.”
“Figured it was time,” he says then, sending her a grin. “I haven’t really gotten to know Jude and his wife yet, and Baylor’s been asking me to come. Plus, it’s hard to say no to such a beautiful woman.”
Beautiful woman?
What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?
His last comment has Baylor and Claire glancing up as my mouth drops open, and I swear we all look like dogs playing fetch, our heads going from my mom to Coach. They apparently hadn’t noticed we were scrutinizing them.
Finally though, my mom glances over at me and glares. “Eat your food, Jace Ryan.”
Unable to speak, I look down at my plate and consider what I am suspecting.
Is my mom hooking up with my coach?
Chancing a glance back at my mom—I mean, she is beautiful. She’s my mom, and she made four hot kids—I wonder if Coach thinks my mom is hot? Wait, she’s wearing makeup, and fuck, she is still staring at my coach.
Unable to keep my mouth shut, I ask, “Mom, are you wearing makeup?”
Her eyes throw daggers when she tears them away from Coach and on to me. “Yes, Jace, I wear makeup. I am a woman.”
“No, you don’t,” Lucy says.
“Like, ever,” Jayden adds, and his gaze cuts to Coach.
“This is weird.” Jude shakes his head.
“Agreed. I think I lost my appetite,” Lucy comments.
“What’s weird, and why?” Mom asks, glaring at all of us. “We are having dinner. As a family. Don’t be silly.”
“It is weird that you’re here, Dad,” Baylor says.
“I mean, did you want me to come or not?” he snaps back at her, and she glares.
“I want you here. But I’m just saying, I don’t think you are here for me,” she says. When he doesn’t say anything, everyone looks back at my mom.
“I mean, should I just say it?” Lucy asks, holding out her hands. But I don’t think any of us really wants this confirmed, because I’m already shaking my head along with Jude.
“No, just eat,” Jayden says, rubbing his temples as he starts to eat.
“Be adults, guys. Come on.” Claire shakes her head with a grin on her face.
“Shut up, Claire,” we four say at the same time.
“What in the world are you four talking about?” Mom asks, but I look away and start to eat.
The thought of my mom dating is gross.
And the fact that it could be my coach makes it even grosser.
Silence falls over the table as my stomach churns. I don’t know why, but somewhere deep inside of me, I thought maybe my parents would get back together one day. I know it’s probably insane to think. I mean, not only does my mom deserve someone a hell of a lot better than my cheating father, but also, my dad has moved on. I know my mom needs to do the same, but it’s weird.
I don’t want to watch my mom date.
Especially my coach.
Ew.
“Heels or no heels?”
Mekena looks over at me from where she is doing her makeup and she smiles. I bet I look goofy with one sky-high black heel and a Converse on the other foot, but this is really an important question. Either shoe could go with my rolled at the ankle, tight, skinny jeans and flowy black top that hangs off me in the sexiest way. The black bralette I have on underneath covers the parts that need to be covered, but it doesn’t cover a lot. And I know it shows just enough to get guys to notice.
Well, one guy.
Lame Line Larry.
Which, really…I don’t know why I care to get him to notice. But by the way he was checking me out and basically drooling, I doubt I’ll have to try hard. He wants me and that’s cool. I’m down. He is hot…but he is not part of the plan. My plan was to come here, then get an internship, do well in school, get some gigs, make some friends, and have fun. The end goal is to write a hit song and sing it for millions. That’s my plan. I guess I could put him in the fun category, but something about the way those green eyes of his held mine has me thinking he could be more than just fun.
No. That can’t and won’t happen.
Nowhere in that plan does it say get involved with a dude who has a great body and hot eyes.
Nope.
But then, sex is fun, right?
Yes.
So sex, yes.
Involved, no.
I’m a genius.
Easy peasy.
Letting out a breath at my internal struggle, I’m actually thankful for it. Before I came to Nashville, I didn’t care about anything but getting here. I had spent so long just trying to be okay with the fact no one wanted me, that when the opportunity to leave came, it became my only goal. I didn’t try to attract guys anymore; I didn’t consider sex with anyone. But that’s mostly because no one wanted me. Having a brother like Matty Haverbrooke really didn’t give me that option. One, everyone was obsessed with him, and two, no one wanted to even try to holler at me for fear of him killing them.
Little did they know Matty wouldn’t have noticed or cared because I’m not a hockey stick or a frozen biscuit.
Nope, just his twin sister.
Nothing special.
“What are we going for here?” Mekena’s head falls to the side as she takes me in. She looks adorable in a little sundress, her pale skin glowing from the shimmer powder she’s doused herself in. Her long, black hair is up in a puff thing that looks amazing on her but would look dumb on me since my hair is so thin. Hers is luscious and thick, and I’m jealous. I am. She’s also tiny, short and skinny and crazy smart. She’s kind of a threat but super quiet, so no one pays her any mind. I do, though, and I think she’s awesome. Must be because no one pays me any mind either, unless I have blood dripping from my wrists.