The jab stings more than it should. Sure, I can be a selfish bastard at times, but I hadn’t done anything wrong back then, damn it. Miranda and I had been on the same page…until suddenly we weren’t.
But I guess it doesn’t matter who was in the wrong, does it? Because it’s pretty fucking clear that Frank O’Shea is never going to forgive me for what went down between me and his daughter.
6
Dean
First thing I do after I stalk out of the arena is call my older brother. It’s Sunday, so I try his cell first, though there’s a good chance he’s at the office. Nick works long hours at the firm, including most weekends. I think he’s trying to impress our dad with his dedication to the law, and honestly, I think it’s working.
The cheerful voice that slides into my ear, however, doesn’t belong to Nick.
“Dicky! Yay! I haven’t spoken to you in ages!”
The nickname never made me cringe when we were kids, but now that we’re adults, it’s fucking mortifying. As far as I’m concerned, once my little sister learned how to pronounce Dean, our folks should’ve ordered her to kick Dicky to the curb. Then again, ordering Summer to do anything pretty much ensures she’ll do the opposite. My sister is a stubborn brat.
“Why are you answering Nick’s cell?” I ask suspiciously.
“Because I saw your name and wanted to talk to you first. You never call me anymore.”
I can envision the pout she’s no doubt sporting, and it brings a smile to my lips. “You never call me either,” I point out.
Summer goes quiet for a second. Then she heaves a colossal sigh. “You’re right. I don’t. I’ve been a terrible sister.”
“Naah, you’re probably just as busy as I am.” I head down the cobblestone path toward the back of the training center, making my way to the parking lot.
“I have been pretty busy,” she relents.
I hear a loud snort over the extension. “What was that?” I ask.
“Nothing. Just Nicky being an ass. He’s been driving me nuts all weekend. Has he always been this uptight, or did it happen once he became a lawyer?”
She says “lawyer” as if it’s a dirty word. Though to Summer, it probably is. My sister had declared at the age of twelve that law is “hella boring”, and eight years later her stance remains the same. She only agreed to attend an Ivy League college to placate our parents, but last we spoke, she told me she wants to go into interior design after she graduates.
“Compared to you, everyone is uptight,” I tell my sister. “Which isn’t to say I approve of all the batshit crazy things you do.” Summer is two years younger than me, but she gives me a run for my money when it comes to grabbing life by the horns and seizing the day and all that crap. I’m surprised our parents haven’t disowned her yet.
A thought suddenly occurs to me. “Why are you in Manhattan? Shouldn’t you be at school?”
“I felt like visiting my big brother.”
Her tone is way too innocent for my liking. “Bullshit.”
“It’s true,” Summer protests. “I wanted to see Nicky. And I want to see you too, so don’t be surprised if I show up on your doorstep sometime soon.” She pauses. “Actually, I’m thinking of transferring to Briar.”
An alarm goes off inside me. “Why? I thought you were happy at Brown.”
“I am. But…uh…yeah.” Summer sighs again. “I’m on probation.”
I halt mid-step. “What did you do?” I demand.
“What makes you think I did something?” There’s a sniff over the line.
“Save your Little Miss Innocent act for the parentals.” I snicker. “Not that it works on them anymore, either. Now tell me what happened.”
“Let’s just say there was an incident at the sorority house. Togas were involved.”
I choke down a laugh. “Can you be more specific?”
“Nope.”
I groan in exasperation. “Summer—”
“I’ll tell you all about it when I see you,” she chirps. “Nicky wants to talk to you now.”
“Summer—”
She’s already gone. My brother’s deep voice comes on the line half a second later. “Hey,” he says.
“What’d she do?” I ask him.
Nick gives a hearty laugh. “Oh no, I’m not spoiling it for you. All I’m going to say is, classic Summer.”
Fucking hell. I’m not sure I even want to know anymore. “Do Mom and Dad know?”
“Yup. They’re not thrilled about it, but it’s not like she got kicked out. It’s just two months of probation and twenty hours of community service.”
The last bit distracts me from Summer’s woes. “Speaking of community service…” I quickly fill him in about O’Shea’s new gig at Briar.
“Shit,” Nick says when I’m done. “Did he mention Miranda?”
“No, but it’s obvious he still blames me for everything that happened.” Bitterness clogs my throat. “A part of me is tempted to track her down and talk some sense into her, maybe ask her to speak to her dad.”
“She didn’t bother doing that back then,” Nick points out. “Why do you think she’d do it now?”
Good point. “I know, but…” I reach my car and jam my finger on the key fob to unlock the door. I’m still on edge from O’Shea’s unexpected reappearance in my life, and I just want to get the hell away from the arena. “Whatever,” I say darkly. “I guess it’s stupid of me to think Miranda would want to help me. I’m the monster who broke her heart, remember?”
“You want my advice? Just keep your head down. Show up for practice, do what O’Shea says, and don’t start any shit. Spring will be here before you know it, and then you’ll graduate and never have to see that bastard again.”
“You’re right,” I concede. “It’s not worth stressing over. I’ll be out of here soon enough, right?”
“Yup. But let me know if he gives you any trouble, okay? I’ll try to come up with a good reason to sic a lawsuit on him.”
I chuckle. “You don’t practice civil law.”
“For you, baby brother, I’ll make an exception.”
I’m in a far better mood after we hang up. My friends like to mock me about being a rich kid from Connecticut. I’m sure they think my parents are snobs and my siblings are spoiled, but truth be told, my family is awesome.
Both my parents are high-powered attorneys, but they’re the most down-to-earth people you’ll ever meet. Don’t get me wrong, my siblings and I definitely had a ton of perks growing up. We had a nanny and housekeeper. We went to private schools and got a cushy weekly allowance. But we also had to do chores and finish all our homework before we ever saw a dime. If our grades slipped, we’d be grounded in a heartbeat. And if we tried pulling that gimme-whatever-I-want-because-we’ve-got-oodles-of-money crap, we were punished for it. The one and only time I demanded money from my dad, he turned around and donated my entire college fund to a charity for underprivileged kids. Then he made me clerk at his firm for the whole summer to earn it all back.
“What’d Coach want?” Garrett asks when I stride into the living room fifteen minutes later.
“To introduce me to the new defensive coordinator.” I flop down in the armchair and glance at the flat screen. G and Logan are battling each other in a game of Ice Pro, and judging by the score, Logan is getting his ass handed to him.
“We have a new defensive coordinator?” Logan instantly pauses the game. “And why did you need a private introduction?”
I choose my words carefully. “His name’s Frank O’Shea. He was my high school coach, so Jensen figured we’d want to catch up before O’Shea is officially introduced to the team.”
Logan furrows his brow. “Okay. But why is he just coming in now? Season’s already started. Seems weird to bring in a DC after we’ve already played our first game.”
“And lost,” Garrett mutters.
“Still just one game,” Logan insists. “It’s not like we’re in such bad shape that we need a new coach to turn shit around. This feels like a panic move on Coach’s part.” Frowning, he turns to me again. “What’s he like? Good guy?”
He’s the devil. “He’s decent,” I lie, then change the subject. “Where’s Tuck?”
“Not sure. Don’t think he came home last night.” Logan unpauses the game and refocuses his attention on the screen.
I wrinkle my forehead. Tucker hadn’t spent Friday night at home either. I wonder if he’s seeing someone new, because he doesn’t usually stay out two nights in a row.
Since my roommates are distracted by the video game, I go upstairs and force myself to catch up on the course readings I’d fallen behind on. I spend the rest of the day alternating between reading and napping, only going downstairs to steal a few slices of the pizza Garrett and Logan order in the evening. I don’t know why I’m feeling so antisocial. Maybe I’m still edgy about O’Shea showing up at Briar. Or maybe it’s because every time I closed my eyes for a nap today, I pictured Allie’s sexy mouth wrapped around my dick. Her smooth, golden curves pressed up against me. Her tits filling my palms.