by Toni Aleo
“Thanks, Dad.”
He pops another strawberry into his mouth. “You go see Aiden yet?”
“Not yet.”
“You going to try to get his condo?”
I grin. “How’d you know?”
He winks. “You haven’t unpacked.”
I laugh along with him as my mom glares at me. “You could stay here for free.”
“And get killed in the cross fire between those two? Nope, I’m good. I think we should all move out and let them burn the house down.”
They both laugh along with me as the girls reenter the kitchen. Emery grabs her lunch as Stella gets her book bag. “I only have morning classes, so I’ll be at Brooks House by two.”
Mom nods. “Okay, have a wonderful day.” She then grabs Emery, kissing her hard on the head. “I love you. Be nice.”
Emery shrugs. “We’ll see how the day goes and how people act.”
Dad shakes his head as the girls say bye and leave. I look at my mom. “Aren’t you worried they’ll fight in the car and crash?”
Mom grins at me. “Stella drives like an old lady. Emery still sits in the back since she’s terrified Stella will kill them, and if she’s in the back, she thinks she’s less likely to die. Believe me, they’re fine.”
“I think they do it for entertainment,” Dad laughs, and I gawk at him.
“Stella has a scar from where Emery bit her.”
He shrugs. “A love bite?”
Maybe my parents are as crazy as the girls.
I need out of this damn house.
My first memory of Bellevue is from going to a party with Ally when I turned eighteen.
I had a tour scheduled that next Monday, but after one party, I knew I didn’t want to go here. I needed something more. I needed to be in a place where no one knew me. At Bellevue, everyone knew me. Because of Aiden. He graduated from high school early and started college right away so he could train with the Bullies’ hockey team. He didn’t even make it a full season before he was promised and drafted to the Rangers. No one has ever done that coming out of Bellevue, so it was a huge deal.
I’m actually surprised they don’t have a statue dedicated to him.
Because of him, everyone knew my name, and I hated it.
Dude, aren’t you Brooks’s brother?
Oh my God, I love your brother. You’re hot. Wanna fuck?
I love your glasses. How much did your brother sign for?
A lesser man would have a complex, but I know I am different from my brother, and I’m awesome in my own way. It’s not a competition. Aiden is the hockey player, and I’m the guy who likes the game but only for the jumbotron. I’m not called a dork for nothing, but I’m good with it. I know who I am. Here I couldn’t shine. I needed my own identity.
I needed to be Asher Brooks, weirdo. Not Asher Brooks, Aiden Brooks’s brother.
I did that, got my heart broken, and now I’m right back at the University of Bellevue. Not for me, but for my bestie. She loves it here, and I can see the appeal. I actually love the setup of this school. It’s like a mini town with everything you need, from a Dollar General to a Panera. There is a sports compound, a bunch of state-of-the-art buildings for classes, and the dorms are like little condos. It is nice, but it wasn’t for me. Not sure California was either. I got my education and I learned so much, but in the love department… That’s a whole other story.
Ah, you live and you learn. But sometimes, I’m unsure where I belong.
It’s a question I struggle with, but I’ll figure it out. I’m young, and I try to remind myself of that. I have time, but I always strive to be solid. I want to know where I am is where I am supposed to be. I want to know I can build a life, and most of all, I want to be happy. I don’t know where this need for stability comes from. My parents gave us that and more, and maybe that’s why? Maybe I’m so used to having it provided by my parents, that now that I don’t, it’s fucking with me. Or maybe I’m trying to rush it. I don’t know. I just need to know I am okay. I need a job, I need regular sex in the form of a great relationship with a straight female, and I need comfort. I may not have it all figured out—I have only been home for a few days, and I need to relax. But I know one thing. I need to leave my parents’ house. I need space. I really need to call Aiden.
I enter the gym, and the Bullies’ volleyball team is warming up as I head to the bleachers. I find Ally, and she’s directing and warming up her team. She takes up the whole court with her confidence and leadership. She doesn’t need that C on her jersey to let everyone know her role. She exudes it. Her hair is up in a tight ponytail, and she’s wearing her teal and black volleyball shirt with the number two on the back and her name, TITOV. She has on those skimpy little black shorts that a weaker man couldn’t resist.
I am that weaker man.
I don’t care that she’s my best friend. That ass don’t quit, and I truly enjoy watching those shorts try to contain it. It’s almost a game for me. How many times will Ally pick her wedgie? I counted eight times one game; it was a blast. As I pass by her, I try to wave, but she’s in the zone, so I head up the bleachers. I’m almost to the top when I hear my name.
I follow the voice to find Harper and Jakob Titov, Ally’s parents. A wide grin comes over my face as I walk toward them. Harper stands, her face bright as I go into her arms. She hasn’t changed a bit. Ally is the spitting image of her but a little thicker. Harper has cut her hair. It’s shorter now and she looks like a soccer mom rather than a volleyball mom, but she’s a showstopper for sure. No wonder Jakob doesn’t let her out of his sight.
“Oh, Asher, it’s so good to see you.”
I hug her once more. “It’s great to see you too. How are you doing?”
“Great, and you?”
I shrug. “Living the dream.”
She grins as I shake Jakob’s hand. “You’ve gotten taller.”
I smile and shake my head ruefully. “My dad says he’s glad I’ve filled out.”
Jakob nods. “Seems to me, you ate old Asher.”
I laugh. As with everyone else in the Assassins organization, I’ve known Jakob my whole life. He is an assistant coach for the team now. He and my dad played together for many years. Jakob retired before my dad, but he can’t stay far from the sport or the team. No one really can. “Yeah, Ally said the same thing.”
He chuckles as I sit between them. “I like your shirt,” Harper says, and I rub my chest.
“It’s a wee bit tight.”
She laughs since she got this shirt for me when Ally first started playing. Their shirts both read “Number One Fan,” while mine says “Number 2 Fan.” It’s funny, and I only wear it because it makes Ally happy. When I feel her gaze on me, I glance down to see her watching us. I stand up then, shaking my shirt at her. Well, the best I can—it’s really tight, actually—and she grins widely at me. When she turns, I sit back down, and Harper is watching me.
“Got a job yet?”
“I go for my interview Friday with Elli. Jeez, Mama Harp, I just got here.”
She grins at me. “You’re a planner. I figured you’d have a job, a place, and a car before you even got here.”
She isn’t wrong. “Yeah, I kind of left in a hurry. Had to get away from the ex.”
She grimaces, and I hate that look. Everyone gives me that look. I hate the sympathy it brings, along with the shame. Yeah, I was engaged to a closet lesbian. Yes, I’m an idiot. Yes, I left all my property with her. But hey, I’m here and trying to make my life better.
Even if the thought of not having my life planned gives me crazy anxiety.
I look around the gym. It’s one of those high-tech ones. Really flashy with the nice bleachers that have chair seats with cushions. Better than the Assassins’ arena, but the Bullies’ jumbotron has nothing on the Assassins’. I bring in my brows, disgusted by what I see. It’s obvious someone has been dragging ass on changing out some bulbs. There are two lines through one of the screens, and that’s uncal
led-for. They have damn cushions on their seats; they can afford some damn lightbulbs. I move my eyes around the gym, trying to find someone, but my gaze only falls back on Harper.
Who, again, is watching me. With an innocent look, she asks, “So, dating anyone?”
I scratch my neck. “No, ma’am. Still getting over the ex.”
She frowns. “But it’s been five months. Get over her. She didn’t deserve you.”
I laugh. “I guess.”
“Too much penis, I say,” Jakob teases, and I scoff.
I’m never living this down.
“Maybe an inch too much,” I tease back, and he chuckles loudly.
“There are plenty of women out there who want all the inches,” he jokes, and I nod.
“Gotta find them first.”
Harper holds out her hand. “There are a lot of them out on that floor. I know a really gorgeous girl who wears number two.”
I widen my eyes, but before I can say anything, Jakob speaks up. “Woman, what are you doing? They’re best friends. Don’t meddle with that.” He then leans into me. “She’s stressed cause Chalupa is back in the picture.”
I don’t know why it makes me laugh so hard that Jakob won’t call Ally’s ex Taco, but it does. I prefer Nacho, but Chalupa is funny too. But then I realize what he just said—and now, I’m pissed. “I thought she was calling that off?”
“She says she is, but we all know how that goes.”
I shake my head. “Such shit. She deserves better.”
“Exactly. So maybe you should jump in there?” Harper suggests, and I laugh.
“Harp, come on, it’s not like that,” Jakob says once more. “She’ll find someone good. Asher won’t let her live down dating shit.”
“This is true,” I agree as the game starts.
“I just think you two are great together. Why not take it to the next level?”
I’ve never had a mom openly say she wants me to have sex with her daughter, but I’m pretty sure that’s what Harper is insinuating. Jakob gives her a dirty look. “Can you not pimp out our daughter?”
She shrugs. “Just saying. Sometimes friends are meant to be more.”
I can’t even process what she’s saying before Jakob’s voice turns very stern. “Harper, stop, baby. She’s gonna be fine. Stop putting Asher on the spot. We want him around.”
She looks at me, and I smile. “I’ll always be around.”
She exhales heavily. “I just wish it was in the way I wanted.”
I blink, and then the whistle is blown.
Easy to say, the rest of the game is totally awkward.
Chapter Six
Ally
“Two! Two! I said fucking two!”
When I call my position, I feel I should get the fucking ball. I know that sometimes the ball doesn’t do what my back row wants it to, but I know damn well Nicolette could get it to me. Instead, she passes it to Angie, who does a shit-ass job of setting it, because hello, she’s not a setter, leaving me to make a play out of complete shit.
I succeed, but still, come the hell on!
I tip the ball short, and when the opposition tries to hit it up, she gets caught in the net. Point for the Bullies. It puts us up by four, a good lead, but four fuckups or four aces, and they will catch up.
“We need to keep the lead! Nic, babe, come on!” I yell as we circle up, patting one another’s backs. “I need the pass so I can set. It’s Volleyball 101. Pass it to your setter.”
She’s sucking in breath. We did just have an intense volley, but that’s why we condition like crazy. For the endurance we need to stay in the game. “I know. I’m sorry.”
I pat her thigh, giving her a stern but loving look. “You got this. Let’s do this, girls. Let’s get this set.”
Coach Taylor is yelling something, but I don’t hear him. The gym is packed with students and families. I hear my dad clear as a bell, though, and Asher. They have this weird cheer they do where they spell out my name, and my mom yells the first letter of our last name when they finish. It’s really embarrassing, but it is awesome to hear after so long. I don’t know how it started, the whole Ally T and Ash B thing. Maybe it was back in camp when there was another Ally and Asher. So, we made sure everyone knew who we were. Plus, we were the cooler Ally and Asher. Duh. A grin pulls at my lips. It’s a nice reminder that we had the best time at camp.
It’s the first game Asher has been able to make since he moved back. I was nervous when I saw him come in. He was checking the place out, taking it all in like he always does. His jeans were loose on his legs, as was his jacket on his shoulders. Now, though, he has the jacket off, and the shirt my mom made him back when he was in high school doesn’t fit a lick. I don’t even know why he is wearing it. I’m sure it’s for me, and it makes me all giggly inside. Special. He makes me feel special.
And I am going to win this game for him.
We lose the ball after our libero passes it way too hard to our second setter since Angie and I are blocked, and Jenny’s pass goes right into the net instead of up so her hitter can make it over. They’ve figured out our signature play, so we have to move it to the left. It’s cool; I can set Lisha just fine. I pat my chest and Katie looks confused, but I give her a stern look, willing her to know what I mean. Thankfully, when the ball comes to her, she passes it to me. Angie goes to move as if she is going to hit it, but I pass it backward to Lisha, who demolishes the ball. Point.
As we hug up, I pat Katie’s back. “Yes, fucking yes. Back row, pass it to me, and let’s end them.”
And we do. By a landslide.
Asher and Dad are so loud as we clap hands with the other team. It excites me to no end that they fell back into their normal cheering groove. I was actually worried Asher would feel a bit awkward since he hasn’t seen my parents or hung with them in a long time, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. He’s family. He’ll always be family. No matter what I feel.
My team falls on the floor, locking arms as we snuggle close, our heads touching. “Great game, girls. Great hits, Angie and Lisha, badass volleys. I am proud of us. We are going to the top. I can feel it.” The girls agree with hoots and hollers before we let one another go to start patting the court. It sounds like one hell of a thunderstorm, and I love it. This is my favorite part of a win, the togetherness and bringing the storm of our power.
“We are!” I scream and they repeat. “Strong.” Again, they repeat after me, all of them grinning. “Fierce.” I wait as they yell it. “Talented!” Angie meets my gaze, and with her, we yell, “We are the Bellevue Bullies!”
When the whole gym yells it with us, I realize maybe that’s my favorite part. Our whole student body coming together for its sports team. I’m going to miss this. I can play club volleyball until my hips go out, but it won’t be anything like this, the specialness of being on a team and being a part of something great. This team is going places, and I will make that happen. I have to. I have to leave behind a legacy. I want to come back and be welcomed with open arms. Just how my dad is. How the Assassins begged him to work for him and be a part of their success. I want that.
As we walk toward Coach, I wrap my arm around Katie, holding her close. “I know I’m hard on you—”
“It’s because you want more from me. I’ll get there. I promise.”
I grin at her. She wasn’t our starter before the season began, but our senior left school to play for Team USA. I could have gone too, but I’d already pushed back school enough. My dad was pissed the first time I took a year off. He didn’t finish school; he depended on his talent, and he wants more for me. I really wanted to follow my talent, but I learned real quick that talent can be taken away with injury. I broke the shit out of my ankle, which ended my time with the club team and brought me home. I don’t want to chance it anymore. I need to finish.
I want to finish.
When I reach the bench for my water, Angie and Katie are looking up the bleachers. “That’s him.” I hear Angie say
.
I glance up to where she is pointing, and of course, it’s at Asher as he helps my mom gather her stuff. Jealousy eats at my soul as I bite the inside of my cheek. “Isn’t he beautiful?” Angie says.
Katie nods eagerly. “So fucking hot. You going to talk to him?”
“Hell yes, just waiting for him to come down.”
Horny bitches.
I move to head off Asher and my parents, hoping to get in the way of Angie since I’m a petty bitch apparently, but Coach stops me. “Allison, I can’t rave on your leadership any more. I’m so glad with my choice to make you captain.”
I want to scream. “Thanks, Coach.”
“I’m going to need your help with getting Katie where we need her. She’s our weak link.”
I nod in agreement and almost cut him off when Asher stops at the bottom of the bleachers with my parents. I even hear Angie say, “Here I go,” before she moves.
Damn it!
Coach keeps talking, but my gaze is stuck on where Angie and Asher are talking. Of course, she’s stunning and perfect with her grins and holding her hands like an innocent little sex bunny! Did she pull up her shorts so her ass hangs out? Asher obviously is attracted because he’s smirking at her. His eyes are dark, and his body language says he wants to do her. Angie is clearly two seconds from climbing him like a tree and humping his head.
Fucking fuck.
“What do you think?”
I meet his gaze, and I hope my face doesn’t reveal that I didn’t listen to a word Coach said. “I think we need to make her pass and not quit until she hits her target twenty times. That’s what they did with me with my sets. I think she needs to hit the weight room and the endurance room more than everyone else. A little longer each day. Pair her up with Nic ’cause Lord knows she needs to go too. She was sucking air the whole game, and that’s uncalled-for.”
