I move out of the way of the steam. “Good, long. Today is always my long day.”
“Then why don’t you skip nights on long days?”
“’Cause I like the money,” I say with a grin, and she gives me that serious concerned-mom look.
“Don’t overwork yourself, honey.”
“I won’t,” I promise. Though, that’s a lie. I’m exhausted; I’m just lucky I don’t look it. Despite my mom’s age, no one could say she looks tired. She’s elegant, with dark brown hair down her shoulders and caramel eyes that shine in the sick-ass jumpsuit she’s wearing that we got at Prada last summer. She’s always wearing heels and is as gorgeous as ever. My mom is such a hottie.
“Oh, Emery told me you woke her this morning. Please be quieter. You know she needs her sleep.”
I give her a blank look. “Mom, that crazy child of yours was watching crime docs and saying she could kill me with spells. She’s insane. Get her help.”
She snorts, not the least bit worried about my crazy sister. “It’s a phase. She’ll grow it out of it, just as you did with that Bieber kid.”
I gasp. “Mom, I still love the Biebs.”
“For the love of God,” she murmurs, but then something catches her eyes. Her face fills with blissful happiness, and when I follow her gaze, I see my dad is coming toward us. He’s wearing golf shorts and a collared shirt since he spends most of his time at the course now. He has on a dark cap, hiding the graying in his hair, but his beard has the same graying. I swear his eyes are brighter now that he’s gotten more gray hair. He wraps his arms around my mom, kissing her loudly on the cheek. As she laughs, leaning into him, I notice Shea and Elli Adler are right there with him.
I assume Shea was at the course with my dad since he’s wearing the same type of thing, just with bright blue eyes behind some thick black glasses. I’ve always found Shea super hot, but I would never admit that. Posey and Shelli would kill me. Elli Adler is a walking angel. She’s got on a maroon power suit, her hair up in a high bun, and high, high heels. Best part, her new grandson is strapped to her chest.
“Aw, Zac!”
Elli grins as I come over and kiss on the new baby. Everyone thinks he looks like Posey, but all I see is Boon. Even with him so little, he looks like a little lumberjack ready to smash trees in half. “So cute!”
Elli kisses my cheek, and we share a smile. “Hey, Stella. How are you?”
“Great!”
“How’s school?”
I exhale and nod. “Great.”
I hate that question. It makes me feel as if I can’t quit college to pursue cupcakes. Someone would ask how school is, and when I would tell them I’m making cupcakes instead, they’d be disappointed. Especially my parents. I go behind the bar to get everyone waters as they sit and get down to business.
Aiden and Shelli’s gender reveal.
“So, Shelli doesn’t want a balloon. She wants Aiden and her to shoot a puck—”
“Of course not,” my dad says, interrupting Elli. “Because when has Shelli ever wanted anything simple?”
They all laugh at that. “As I was saying, they want the color to explode when they hit the puck.”
“I love it,” my mom gushes, clapping her hands. “We’ll cater, of course.”
Elli grimaces. “Actually, they want a taco truck.”
Between them, Shea clutches his wallet. “I thought we were done after the wedding? Why are we paying for this?”
My dad laughs as Elli smacks Shea. “Because it’s a gift. Plus, we didn’t do this for Posey. She just got knocked up and didn’t tell anyone.”
“And she’s normal and doesn’t like a bunch of hoopla,” I supply, and everyone nods but Elli.
Shelli and Elli are the best of friends. “Maybe, but we aren’t giving that comment life.”
I grin as I turn to serve a new guest, doing my job, even though I can hear them talking and planning. They’ve all been friends so long, through bad times and good, but most of all, you can see the love between them. Not only as couples but as friends. It’s beautiful to witness, especially when their love brought along all us kids.
It’s crazy how not too long ago, they were planning birthday parties. Now they’re planning gender reveals.
Funny how that happens.
But also, would it be totally inappropriate to make out with Wes at that event?
I feel since we did at the wedding, we have to keep the tradition going…
Don’t we?
No…? Yeah…? No.
Chapter Four
Wes
I’m not a fan of losing.
I don’t think anyone is, but I’m sure there are people who handle it better than I do. Unlike my teammates, I get really petty. I talk entirely too much shit to the other team, and I get chirpy. I’ll run into people because it makes me feel better. I’ll slash, I’ll cross-check, I’ll do whatever I want, just to feel like I still have ownership over this game. It results in fights and penalty minutes. I’m a jackass—I know this—which isn’t really good for the team, but I am a sore loser. I own it. Hell, I’m pretty sure my therapist is tired of trying to fix it out of me, but it’s just how I do things.