Natalie’s lower lip trembles as her eyes begin to fill with tears. Wiping her face with her sleeve, she looks away. “He’s gone to bed. His flight leaves tomorrow night, so you better come by if you want to see him.” Quietly, I watch Nat turn and head up the stairs.
Glancing back, I tell Brady, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset her.”
I’ve known Brady Ryan since I thought boys had cooties. He’s a good-looking man with warm brown hair and the body of a football king. Thank God I was never interested in him because he and Nat are a modern-day version of Barbie and Ken.
They’re perfect together.
The way he looks at her gives me hope that good men still exist and love is real.
Brady’s eyes follow Nat upstairs. “She’s having a hard time with Cooper leaving. She’ll be okay. It’s good to see you, Brina. Chloe and the guys are in the backyard if you’re looking for them.”
Brady takes the steps two at a time after Nat.
I make my way outside to a backyard lit up with fairy lights. The bonfire is roaring with people sitting in a circle around it.
Of course, the first person I see is the reason I’ve never been interested in Brady Ryan.
One of his best friends.
One of his roommates.
All six-foot-two of rock-solid muscle.
Aiden Murphy.
He’s one hell of a sight with reddish-brown hair, mossy-green eyes, and muscles stretching the cotton of his black Kroydon University t-shirt. God, I’ve always loved his muscles. When we were in middle school, and most boys were twigs, Murphy was already developing a defined physique. Now, all these years later, he’s built like a Greek god with a face that belongs on a Nike ad. I hate the way my body reacts to the simple sight of him.
My defense mechanism has always been, and still is, sarcasm, which tends to come off bitchy. With the way my body reacts to Murphy, I always feel like I’m on the defensive around him. I don’t want him to know how I feel, so I end up acting like a bitch.
I hate it but have never been able to control it either.
Murphy has always had a starring role in my most vivid fantasies, and I’ve never told a soul—not even my best friend—because Aiden Murphy is a man whore. He wouldn’t know serious if it bit him in the ass, and I’m about as serious as you can get. Since I was a little girl, it’s been drilled into me that I have to be beyond reproach. There are always people looking to take down a politician, and they have no problem using families to get to them.
While I think it could be fun if Murphy bit me in the ass, I don’t doubt that he’d destroy my heart in the process.
He’s sitting by the fire, sandwiched on either side by Chloe and Bash.
Chloe and I have been best friends since we were little kids. She’s a year behind me in school. We met at soccer practice when we were five and six. A boy had knocked me down. And while I sat on my butt and cried, Chloe kicked him in his shin guard and told him it wasn’t nice to push girls. She didn’t stick with soccer for long, but she did stick with me, even when my parents pulled me out of the school we all went to and sent me to an all-girls Catholic school.
She’s my wild friend, always willing to try new things. The only rules she plays by are her own. She does her own thing, and she makes it look easy.
I wish I could be more like her.
Bash is sitting on the other side of Murphy. Tall, dark, and handsome may as well have been coined to describe Sebastian Beneventi. He’s tall, easily six-foot-five or -six, with dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes. His strong jaw and high cheekbones scream male model. Bash is leaner than Murphy but still looks like he could bench-press me. He’s the quiet one of this group, but he and I have always gotten along. We’re both overachievers on fast tracks through college. I’m pre-law, and Bash is pre-med.
Gotta love a guy with brains and brawn.
Chloe is the first to see me and jumps up for a hug like it’s been years since we’ve seen each other instead of two weeks. Her short purple hair swings as she moves. “Sabrina!” she squeals. “I’m so glad you came. I missed you.”
Pulling me down to sit next to her on the bench, Chloe starts filling me in on everything I’ve missed tonight. She’s talking a mile a minute, and I’m only halfway listening.
Murphy looks like he’s drinking whiskey straight from a bottle, and Bash stands up with an empty beer in his hand. He tips his beer bottle to me. “Looking good tonight, Sabrina. Where’d you come from?”
I cross my ankles, suddenly aware of the length of my dress when I’m sitting down. “Thanks. I was at one of the senator’s functions. It was mind-numbingly awful.”
“Pretty sure I’d rather be waterboarded.” Bash kicks Murphy’s leg. “How about you give me that bottle of Jack, man? I think you’ve had enough.”
Murphy grunts at Bash and takes another swig from the bottle, not bothering to look up. “Whatever, Murph. I don’t want to hear it when your head is fucking exploding tomorrow.” Tipping his imaginary cap at me and Chloe, Bash takes off.
Leaning in, Chloe stage whispers so Murphy and I can both hear her, “Do you see the pretty redhead over there?”
Looking across the yard, I see a group playing beer pong. There’s only one redhead in the bunch who could have caught my friend’s attention.
Chloe grabs my face and turns it back to her. “Don’t look right at her! I think I wanna go talk to her.”
Murphy is staring hard in our direction now as if we’ve personally wronged him in some way. “Go fuck her brains out, Chloe. It’s not like you can knock her up.”
Chloe flips Murphy off. Then turns back to me.
“Ignore him. I say go for it. The worst that can happen is she turns you down.”
“Wish me luck.” She practically hops up from the bench we’re sharing and bounces over to the other side of the yard.
Murphy watches Chloe with what looks like disgust on his face.
Glaring at him, I can’t hold my tongue. “You seem exceptionally grumpy tonight, Murph. Why don’t you have some poor, unsuspecting victim in your bed already?”
“What the fuck is your problem, Sabrina?” He sits up straighter and points his bottle at me. “I’ve never had a victim in my bed. They come willingly and leave satisfied.”
A vicious smile takes over his handsome face. “Why don’t you try to stop being high-and-mighty for once? You’re not in Catholic school anymore. We’re all sinners here. You should try it. It’s fun.”
One side of his mouth kicks up, transforming his face from mean to cocky before he continues, “Maybe if you do, you’ll finally be able to remove the good-girl stick from that fine little ass once and for all, Princess.”
“You know, Murph, at some point in your life, you’re going to have to grow up and be serious about something. Maybe when you do, you’ll stop being such a giant dick.” I stand to leave when his next words stop me in my tracks.
He places the bottle on the ground before patting his thigh. “You know, Princess, I’ve never had any complaints about my giant dick. Maybe if you stop being the perfect little girl, you can hop on and see for yourself.”
Refusing to look back, I storm off.
I just can’t keep my inner bitch quiet around this guy.
Shame . . . I wish I could take him for a ride.
3
Murphy
As I pull my car to a stop in my mother’s circular driveway, I can’t believe the conversation I’m about to have with her. How did this happen? Well, I guess I know how it happened.
What the fuck?
I don’t know what I’m going to say or how my mom is going to react.
“Hey, Mom. Congrats. You’re going to be a grandma.”
“Umm . . . Mom. I fucked up.”
“Mommy, can you fix my life?”
I am not ashamed to admit I’m a bit of a momma’s boy, and I can and will kick anyone’s ass who has a problem with it. Dumb fucks don’t have a clue how good being a mom
ma’s boy is. I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m going to do and need my mom to tell me everything is going to be okay, even if it’s not. Letting myself in the side door, I kick my shoes off in the mudroom and head into the kitchen.
What I see next can never be erased from my eyes. My mom is half-naked and bent over the kitchen table. And it gets worse. Coach Sinclair’s bare ass is between her legs.
Oh. Fuck. No.
“Oh! My God! My eyes!”
I turn away, not wanting to see what’s happening right in front of me. My mom, my perfectly sweet, sweater-and-pearls-wearing momma, has her skirt shoved up to her waist, and her top is lying on the floor by her feet. She’s making a noise I could have gone my entire life without hearing, and Coach Sinclair—Nat and Coop’s dad—has his pants around his knees and his hands on her hips as he pumps away.
Fucking gross.
My mother shrieks, “Oh my God, Aiden! Close your eyes.”
Refusing to turn my head and risk a chance of seeing them, I yell back, “Bleach my eyes is more like it. What the hell, Mom? Is there something wrong with your bedroom?”
I hear movements behind me.
Hurried breaths.
The rustle of pants being pulled up.
A belt being buckled.
The legs of the table scraping against the floor.
“Now listen, Murphy—” Coach Sinclair starts to speak, but I cut him off.
“How about you listen to me, Coach? I just walked into my house to see you doing my mom. Can you give me a minute to have the fucking freak-out I deserve?” Storming out the door I just entered, I let it slam behind me and walk around the neighborhood while trying to get myself under control.
Once I make it to the end of the block, I really wish I’d grabbed my shoes.
When I finally pull my shit together enough to enter my mother’s house for the second time today, I make sure that it’s through the front door. And I knock . . . loudly. When my mother opens the door, I can tell she’s been crying.
I seem to have that effect on women lately.
My mother’s sparkling green eyes that were passed down to my sister and me are rimmed red, and that’s my fault. She’s changed into tan pants and a dark pink sleeveless blouse. Still has those damn pearls on though.
I’m enveloped in her delicate arms as she starts to apologize.
Pulling back, I look down at her curly, strawberry blonde hair. I definitely didn’t get my height from her. She barely comes up to my shoulder. I force the next words out of my mouth. “Mom. Don’t. I should have knocked or at least told you I was coming by earlier. It was just a shock to see that. And with Coach.” My brows scrunch, and my lips pinch tight.
I’ll never be able to purge that fucking image from my brain.
She squeezes me tighter and sits us both down on the sofa in the formal living room. The light blue couch is hard as stone, and the furniture is dainty and fragile looking. You know, it’s the living room no one is allowed to sit in. The living room you only take pictures in. That damn room.
Wiping imaginary lint off her pants, my mom settles herself. “About that, Aiden. Joe had to get to his house to make sure he was there before the guests arrived. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you or your sister about my relationship with him earlier. Still, it was nice having something to myself. Every time we’d discuss the idea of talking to you kids, we’d put it off for one reason or another. First, he wanted Declan to get to town, then we didn’t want to take away from your graduation. Of course, you were also never all in the same place this summer.”
Stopping my mom, I ask, “Does Carys know now?”
“No. Your sister doesn’t know yet. We were planning on talking to the five of you kids together today.”
“How long have you and Coach been . . . ya know?”
“Aiden,” my mother drags out my name. “Can you not be crass, please?”
“Come on, Mom. I walked in on you bent over a table,” I respond, gagging as the words leave my mouth.
She primly clasps her hands in her lap. “I know, and that was unfortunate.”
Mom cringes.
I cringe.
I think the damn couch cringes from the image that just floated through the air.
She surprises me when she places her palm on my cheek and turns my big head to look at her. “Joe and I started to talk after we all went out to celebrate your state championship last year. We started seeing each other once his season was over a few months later. By the time you kids graduated, it had become pretty serious. I care about him very much. I need to know how you feel about that.”
“Coach is a great guy, Mom. I just want to see you happy, but I’ll never think any man is good enough for you. And I’m never going to be okay with what I walked in on today. Can you keep that shit behind closed doors?”
Dropping her hands, I get the look. The look that my mother has perfected over the past nineteen years. The don’t sass me right now look. “Aiden, you walked into my house. Your sister is sleeping over at a friend’s and going straight to the party from there. I thought we’d be alone. I’m only forty-one years old. I crave . . .”
I cover my ears. “Oh my God! Stop.”
Rolling her eyes at me, she sighs deeply. “Aiden, what I was going to say was I crave companionship. Someone to share my life with. I don’t want to be alone forever. You’ve already left the nest, and Carys only has two years left in high school. Joe gets it. He understands the importance of my kids and my job. But he also makes me feel like I’m important as a woman and a partner.”
“Wow, Mom. It sounds serious.” I can’t hide the surprise in my voice. I had no clue any of this was going on.
“Well, honey, it is serious.” She smiles in a way I haven’t seen before. It’s not the proud mom smile I’m used to, or even the look she gets when Carys, she, and I are having fun. It’s different. It’s a serious kind of smile. “We kept looking for the right time to tell everyone, and it just never came. Now we’ve run out of time. It’s now or never if we want to talk to the five of you about this together.”
“Are you happy, Mom?”
Nodding her head, her eyes fill with tears. “I’m so happy, baby. You and Carys have made me utterly happy throughout my life. Getting to share it with Joe has been the icing on the cake.”
Leaning in, I wrap my mother up in a hug and enjoy the safety she’s always given me. “I love you, Mom.” Guess I won’t be ruining her day today by telling her about the possibility of becoming a grandma.
“I love you too, honey.” She squeezes me tight. “I’m glad we’ve got that settled. Can you not mention this to your friends until after we’ve talked to all of you?”
Winking at her, I smile and shake my head. “I’m not making any promises.”
4
Murphy
An hour later, Carys, Declan, Cooper, Natalie, and I are sitting at the massive farmhouse table in Coach Sinclair’s kitchen waiting for my mother to sit down. The smell of warm chocolate chip cookies is making my stomach revolt after too much whiskey last night.
I’m still not used to seeing all three Sinclair siblings together. Declan is the oldest Sinclair. He was drafted in the first round last spring to be the starting quarterback for the Philadelphia Kings. Most guys would give their left nut to be him, but Dec wishes he was anywhere but here. Philly sports fans are a tough group, and they’re not happy that Coach drafted his own kid. He’s won his first few games, but the sportscasters haven’t let up yet.
Declan’s bigger than Coop and darker than Nat. He takes after their mom, who’s a retired model. Dec may be the only guy we could torture for being prettier than Bash . . . but we don’t. We save that shit just for Bash.
The normally unshakable Coach looks a little skittish right now, and I’m enjoying every fucking second of his discomfort. He pulls at the collar of his black Under Armour polo shirt.
A poke to my side comes from Natalie, who’s sitting next to me. “Why do you lo
ok like the cat that ate the canary?”
Apparently, that gets Coach’s attention. He clears his throat. “Thanks for coming a few minutes early, kids.” He yells for my mom, “Katie, are you coming?”
Carys elbows me from my other side. “Aiden, did he just call Mom ‘Katie’?” My little sister has no idea what kinda conversation this is going to be.
Mom fell in love with the name Carys after seeing a picture of Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas’s beautiful daughter. But my sister is prettier. Dark hair, nearly jet-black, hangs to her shoulders. Skinny long legs have her standing at about five-foot-seven. Her facial features are delicate and pretty. I spent a ton of time in high school making sure everyone knew Carys was off-limits or they’d have to deal with me.
Thank God she hangs around with her theater friends and not the damn football team.
Just as I’m about to shake my head, my mother walks into the room with a smile on her face and a tray of cookies in her hands. She looks way better than Coach right now. “Kids, we have something we need to discuss with you.”
Cooper laughs as he reaches for a cookie. “Since we’ve all already had the divorce talks, I’m guessing it’s not that.”
“Oh my God. You’re dating, aren’t you?” Natalie’s smile takes over her entire face.
Now it’s my turn to elbow her. “How the fuck did you figure that out?”
Nat levels me with a mix between a glare and elation as her contagious laughter echoes throughout the room. “How did you not, Murph? Do you ever pay attention to anything?”
I answer, “I’m paying attention now.” I take a pull from my water bottle then grumble, “Especially after what I walked in on today.”
Having just taken a sip from his beer, Coach spits it out all over the cookie tray. Looking around the table, I see everyone but my mother has wide eyes. She has a blush covering her entire face and refuses to make eye contact with anyone.
Declan murmurs, “I don’t want to know.”
More Than A Game (The Kings of Kroydon Hills Book 2) Page 2
