“No one. Certainly not you,” I say just as Gunner throws me under the bus. “He was calling you a flust-ed crazy lady.”
“A what?” she questions, looking slightly deranged as she narrows her gaze on me.
“Thanks for the assist,” I deadpan.
Gunner clearly doesn’t pick up my meaning when he gives me two thumbs up and squeals, “Good luck!” over his shoulder before running up the steps.
Christ, here we go.
Standing up, I dust off my pants and grab my guitar case. “Hey, Scar. I was just asking Gunner if you’d rather Gemma and I do the lesson on the front porch. It’s a nice night and it looks like there’s plenty of room for us to sit out here if you’d prefer I don’t come in.”
“And why would I prefer you not come in?”
“Uh—” I nervously shift my weight from being put on the spot. “Gunner mentioned you guys haven’t settled in yet. Which is understandable considering how busy you all are and Joseph mentioned you only moved in a couple of weeks ago. Besides, I sprang this change of plans on you last minute.”
Before I can continue rambling, Scar holds up her hand to stop me. “I think Gemma would probably prefer to do the lessons inside for now. She’s somewhat shy about her songwriting and piano playing. I’m guessing it will be the same with playing guitar for now. I don’t mind if you come in. I’m sorry if Gunner made it seem like I didn’t want you to come inside. I’m not the cleanest person by nature, so I was just tidying up.”
“Yeah, me neither,” I tell her but she shoots me a look that shuts me up.
“Says the guy with the cleanest locker and weirdest pregame rituals. I bet you’re a neat freak. You probably organize your closet by colors.”
Guilty.
She gasps, covering her mouth. “Oh my god, you totally do, don’t you?” Her laughter rings through the entryway when she gestures me inside, and my heart rate picks up speed at the sound.
“What about my pregame routine is weird? And how exactly do you know about my rituals?” I question.
Scarlett moves closer, lowering her voice for just us to hear. “I’ve decided to make it my business to know exactly what makes the captain of my team tick.”
My heart beats double time as her words register.
“Your team?” I press, after I’ve cleared my throat.
“My family’s team,” she corrects, before turning to the steps and cupping her mouth. “Gems! There’s an old guy in our entryway with a guitar offering you lessons. Get your butt down here before I have to make more awkward conversation.”
She turns back to face me and bites her bottom lip to muffle her giggling.
“You think you’re so funny. What’s with the two of you calling me old? I’m not old.”
“To her, we both are. Don’t you remember a time when you thought your parents were old? Well, that’s pretty much how she thinks of everyone. When I turned twenty-one, I wasso old. When I turned twenty-five, she checked me for gray hair. You’re thirty, so in her eyes, you’ve practically got one foot in the grave.”
What did I get myself into?
“Cute. Is this what I have to look forward to?” I grumble.
“Precisely.” Her voice is laced with humor at my expense.
Gemma comes skittering to a stop at the base of the stairs. “Hey, Bennett. Thanks for offering to do this.”
“No problem. I’m happy to do it. You ready to getstarted?” I ask her.
“Yep, we can go in the living room,” she suggests, leading the way into the open-concept living space down the hall.
We pass under the entryway staircase and I take everything in. Even though they only moved in a few weeks ago, Scarlett’s managed to make this place into a home with little touches like the framed artwork on the walls and a large black and white portrait of the three of them making silly faces together. Next to that are portraits of each of them zoomed in on a feature of their face. Starting at the bottom is Gunner’s smile missing one of his bottom teeth. Above that is a close-up of Scarlett’s scrunched nose, speckled with my favorite feature of hers—freckles that stand out in stark contrast to her creamy skin due to the black-and-white composition. At the top are Gemma’s eyes, the striations of her retinas emphasized and framed by long lashes.
I get caught staring at the photographs, and Scarlett softly shoulder checks me. “This way, Benny Boy.”
Hearing her call me that earns her a smirk accompanied by the quirk of my brow.
