I cut in, not wanting them to argue anymore. “And miss out on being on a line together again? Fuck that. Come on, Jaxy, let’s get that shot, and then we can talk strategy about how we’re going to pad our stats this season.”
Jax’s shoulders relax, and his easy-going smile takes over his face. “Damn, Carse. I missed you. It’s good to be back.”
We head to the bar, where Mack orders a drink with a few of her volleyball teammates.
“There she is! McKenna Marie, get over here, my little M&M,” Jax says as he opens his arms for Mack.
She turns, running into his arms before he lifts her up and spins her around. “Jax! I missed you so much. How was Harvard, you fricken scholar?”
“Glad to see someone doesn’t think I’m some Ivy League snob now.” Jax sets Mack back down.
“Never! God, I’ve missed you. I haven’t seen you since—” Mack trails off, not wanting to say it out loud. The last time she saw Jackson was at Katie’s funeral. A day that pains us all too much to speak of.
“It’s been too long, for sure. But I hear my M&M has been killing it on the court.” Jax comfortably changes the subject.
“I don’t know if I’d say killing it. But this season is off to a great start,” Mack replies. She’s being modest. She is killing it. Even after having Cadence, she played on the team last season. She didn’t get a starting spot for most of last year, but this season, the coach hasn’t taken her off the court for a single minute.
“Well, if I can get my shit together and make the final roster, I plan to come watch you kick some ass on the court,” Jax promises. “And I need to meet the girl that has taken up residence in Carsey’s heart.”
My pulse skyrockets. How in the hell does he know about Dakota? I haven’t told a single soul.
“I’ll hold you to that. Feel free to come by anytime—I’d love for you to meet Cades. Though I must warn you, she’s a little heartbreaker,” Mack gushes as she pulls out her phone to show Jax some pictures on her phone.
Shit. Of course he was just talking about Cadence. Looks like I really need that shot after all.
By one shot, Jax meant ten. I am officially tipsy as I stumble out of my parents’ SUV and walk up the front steps to my house. Mack is barely buzzed—something killed her mood after she started to have a good time dancing with my former college roommate, Ian. Though she’s keeping tightlipped about what it is that’s bugging her. I hate when she does that. It’s got to be the twin thing, or maybe the older brother in me, but I can’t stand to see her down like this.
After struggling to get my keys in the lock a few times, Mack grabs them out of my hand and lets us into the house. She quickly darts up the steps—to check on Cadence, I’m guessing.
I take off my shoes as quietly as possible so I don’t wake anyone. I make it a few steps into the house before the sight in front of me has me stopping in my tracks.
Dakota has made a bed of blankets on the floor of my living room. She’s nestled in front of the fireplace, reading a book I can’t quite make out from here.
I knew she was a paperback-by-the-fire kind of girl.
“A fire in late August, Austen?” I tease.
Dakota nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears me. She must have been so enveloped in her book that she didn’t hear us come in.
“Oh my gosh! You startled me. I’m so sorry about the fire. I got a chill and, well, it’s just such a beautiful fireplace that I started a fire. But you’re right. It’s wasteful to start a fire this time of year. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Dakota shoots to her feet and turns off the fireplace.
I frown, my eyebrows pulling together in confusion. “Dakota, there’s no need to apologize. I don’t care if you start a fire every night you’re here. I was just heckling you.”
Her shoulders ease slightly at my words, but her face is still filled with worry, and she’s hidden the book she was reading behind her back.
Needing to lighten the mood, I ask, “What were you reading tonight?Pride and Prejudice?”
“Um, no.Jane Eyre.”
I love asking her what she’s reading. Her cheeks always blush, and she looks at me in wonderment as if my being inquisitive about what she’s interested in is a bewildering thing to her. I have mixed feelings about it—I both crave that look in her eyes and resent it because it likely means she’s not used to someone being fascinated by her. And everything Dakota does fascinates me.
“Ah, a Brontë-by-the-fire kind of night. I can see why you didn’t hear us come in.”
“I had the baby monitor right beside me in case Cadence woke up,” she reassures me, pointing to the coffee table where the monitor is.
I just nod my head in acknowledgment.
“It’s late. I should probably head to bed,” she suggests.
