Saved By Love (Bellevue Bullies 7)

eleven

Evan

“So, you mean to tell me, with all these girls who have been hitting on you, you’ve walked away and ignored them?” Owen asks.

I chuckle a bit as I head off the interstate toward my mom’s house. Shelli has still not had the baby, and she feels very emotional that she hasn’t seen everyone in a while. So, we’re having a family dinner with the Brooks family. They’re always a blast, and I’m sure the emotions will be high since this is the first Brooks grandbaby and the baby of the firstborn of our family. I wish I could have gotten out of it, but Mom didn’t really give me any options.

Owen won’t be there, so I’ll have to turn my attention to Zac, which will be cool since I love that kid. I miss my brother, but I’m kind of okay he won’t be there. At least I can contain his comments to the phone. Whereas if we were in person, he’d be hounding me.

“Yes,” I say with a sigh. “They don’t even know me. I’m just all new and sparkly.”

“So? What the hell else do you want? A school full of hot girls all want you, and you deny them? I feel like you are going against the guy code. Or something. I don’t know. You’re killing me.”

I snort. “What the hell? I don’t want some meaningless hookup and to just go through a bunch of females. I watched you do it. I’m good.”

“Hey, I had fun.”

“Yes, and then you decided to settle down. We may look alike, but we are far from the same.”

He laughs. “I know. I just want you to have fun.”

“I am having fun,” I say, which isn’t a lie. I enjoy the Bullies’ house, and practice has been cool. Gymnastics is crazy hard, and it’s fun to watch them. Though, all this taping is chafing my hands. So much tape. I shake my head, though Owen is on my Bluetooth and can’t see me. “I’m doing good. I promise.”

“Fine. But, and I only say this with love, have some meaningless sex. You have all these girls at your fingertips. Have some fun.”

“Are you missing your single life?”

Owen chuckles. “Not at all! I just want you to have some fun, dude.”

“Owen, I’m good. Plus, I don’t want that reputation. The coach likes me, and the team respects me. If word gets out that I’m fucking around with everyone, I’ll look bad.”

“God, you’re so much like Mom it’s crazy. Your reputation is fine, Evan.”

“I know, but it means a lot to me. I’m already dealing with walking away from the NHL. I don’t want to be known as a fuck-’em-and-leave-’em guy who has mental issues. Ya know? I want more than that.”

He pauses. “You do like girls, right? If not, I found out the other day Williamson is gay. He’s a good-looking dude.”

Jesus, my brother is a lot. “I like girls.” To my surprise, and out of nowhere, Callie Pearce comes to mind. I haven’t let myself think about her all day since I left her this morning, but it’s hard. Not only is she a great runner, but she’s so graceful and has strong legs that are unbelievable. She’s stunning, with thick, crazy-curly brownish-blond hair and deep green eyes. She’s little, only coming up to the middle of my chest, but I like what I see. I’ve seen some beautiful women lately, but there is something about Callie.

I feel like I know her. I feel comfortable around her.

“Also, how did you just find this out? Williamson has always been gay,” I say, ignoring my thoughts of Callie.

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“Because you’re too busy trying to smash all the girls.”

He laughs. “Probably. You should try it.”

“Again, I’m not like you,” I remind him. “So, let it go.”

He doesn’t say anything, though I know he wants to. I know that he knows that I know that he knows about my sexual orientation, but I refuse to talk about it. Every time we talk about this kind of stuff, though, I’m reminded, and I feel like less of a man, which isn’t fair. I don’t need to smash a bunch of women to feel like a man. I’m good with my choices. “Fine. But come on. I know the girls are hot.”

He’s relentless. “Yes, and I am very much attracted to one of them,” I admit, just to keep him off my ass.

“Oh, really?” he sings in his annoying way. “Tell me more.”

“I hate you,” I say, and despite my annoyance, I laugh along with him. “It’s nothing. She’s a beautiful girl, and she knew the handshake that Merryweather taught us.”

“I mean, she’s a winner already.”

“Yeah, but she is the only one who has not hit on me.”

“I love her. Ask her out.”

“I’m good,” I say, shaking my head. If she had flirted, or even acted as if she was interested, I would have considered it. Between watching her eat shit at the ACOB and running with her, I’ve developed a little crush. It doesn’t mean anything, I don’t even know her, but I find her adorable. Add in the fact that she doesn’t give up, not even after falling a billion times on some kind of flippy thing, and I’m intrigued. Not enough to do anything about it, though. I’ve got too much going on. “I need to focus on me.”

“You’ve been focusing on yourself for over a year. You’re doing better than you give yourself credit for.”

My brother, my number-one hype man. “Thanks, Owen.”

“Always.”

When I pull up to my parents’, we say our goodbyes as his words weigh heavy on my heart. He’s right. I have really committed to healing myself and making changes, but it’s hard to even consider putting myself out there. I fear rejection, and that’s why I suffered in silence for so long when it came to the sport I love.

But the more I think about it, Callie’s statement really rings true. Maybe I never loved hockey; I just thought I did because everyone else does. I’m not sure. But soon, I’m unable to think because once I walk into the house, it’s a fucking circus.

Why are we still taking photos like we did when we were kids? All of us line up, holding one another as my mom clicks photo after photo of us. She even FaceTimed Owen to include him in the photo. I looked like the dumbass holding the phone with my twin brother smiling like an idiot as we all touch Shelli’s stomach. It’s insane and totally ridiculous; alas, we do it. My mom and Fallon, Shelli’s mother-in-law, are both really in their feelings. Super sentimental.

Our families have known each other forever, it seems. Dad and Lucas, Aiden’s dad, played together, so there isn’t a memory that doesn’t include the Brooks family. Endless birthday parties, Christmases, and other holidays. The extended family we chose. All the Assassins players are more family than friends, or even teammates. Since all us kids grew up together, everyone assumed we’d marry one another or be together or whatever. So far, only Shelli, Owen, and Asher, Aiden’s brother, have done that. If I were smart, I would do the same. Someone I know, someone I trust, and someone who knows me. I mean, it’s a no-brainer. Problem is, I have no options. As of this moment, only one option is currently in my house.

Emery Brooks. And let me tell you, unless she is saving me from a serial killer, I don’t want anything to do with her, other than family stuff. I’m not going to lie; I’m scared of her. Everyone is. She’s wicked smart, like genius-level smart, and she has watched enough true crime that she is now one of those internet sleuths. How someone at the age of seventeen can successfully do that and keep her identity locked down is beyond me, but she has been recognized for her work by different homicide units across the US. They’ve even tried to hire her, but she says she wants to go to school first.

Oh, and turn eighteen.

The hell?

What is up with the youngest children in our families being so smart? I know I’m smart because I took all Owen’s intelligence, but how did our parents have any intelligence left after all us kids? Shouldn’t the youngest be dumb or something? Quinn and Emery are making all of us look bad.