9: We’ll Play Family.
1499 Words
DANE
⸻ ✦ ⸻
When I pulled close to hold her, her reflexes were sharp enough to maneuver her back. Avoiding my hands as though my touch carried the plague.
It wasn't amusing.
I watched her drag the sleeves of her shirt over her eyes, frantically patting her tears. Her face burned crimson, her expression twisting into a veiled wince that I narrowly caught.
I swallowed hard until I felt annoyance settle in the hollow of my chest.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “Sorry for the inconvenience, I will leave now.”
The urge to close the distance between us was there, suffocating and relentless.
“Why were you at housing?” I asked.
She met my eyes, her gaze unfocused. “Nothing that concerns you.”
“That's a vague response, it’s not helping.”
“It’s not helping what?”
“The fire, Lola,” I rasped. “Try harder and I might consider backing off.”
“If this is about what happened that night…” She trailed off momentarily, probably recalling.
“That was a drunken mistake, please forget it.” she breathed. “I’m Lola, your stepsister, in case you missed it. And you are my stepbrother… will you respect that?”
It was pointless arguing this. Her resolve wouldn't last forever.
“Sure.” I agreed.
“What?” Her brows shot up in surprise.
“We’ll play family like you want, nutcracker,”
Looking past her shoulder, I caught sight of my car rolling over. Jose was behind the wheel, fuming because I’d bailed out on him as soon as I saw that video circulating.
“Vaughn!” He pushed out his head through the wind-down window, his hand throwing into the air. “Detroit? The one-thirty shoot?”
Lola looked over her shoulder, her gaze narrowing as she watched Jose’s frantic display.
He was ever theatrical.
My wristwatch said ten a.m. We weren't exactly behind time.
Lola stepped aside, clearing the way. “Bye”
“You are coming with me.”
Her lashes fluttered at me. “What? Where?”
“Detroit.” I dragged my eyes over the denim pants and pink shirt she had on. She looked perfect. “I can't leave you all alone in this state.”
“My legs work just fine, I can still use my hands and I have classes. Why should I follow you all the way to Detroit?”
“You sound like it takes a day to get to Detroit.”
“I have classes…”
“No, you don't,” I cut in, “You were given an excuse note. I can't let you commute forty minutes back home. Let’s go, Lola.”
I could picture Jose’s feet tapping away with impatience from where he sat tight in the car.
“Detroit’s an hour and a half away compared to the house…”
“Allow me to watch over you.” I insisted. “You are badly hurt.”
She didn't agree right away, her lips parting and closing. There were no glosses on the soft flesh today, just pale pink skin still exactly the way I'd left them the night she’d been in my bed.
“Okay, fine!” She caved, her voice cutting through my haze. “But don't touch me, I can walk just fine. After you.”
I furrowed my brows at her. “I can't watch over you if you are behind me.”
She glared, catching her eyes before they could roll. “Why are you doing this?”
“Just taking care of you,” I smirked. “As an older brother would of course.”
Her eyes flickered as she turned her back on me.
I finally closed the distance to her, halting just a foot behind her. I motioned for Jose to pull closer, catching the way her shoulders squared stiffly.
“Relax,” I whispered.
“Who says I’m not relaxed?” She retorted under her breath.
Jose rolled down the other seat’s glass. “Hey…” he greeted, waving once at Lola.
I caught the unfiltered flash of surprise and something close to recognition when his brows lifted, a quiet flicker passing through his eyes as Lola returned the wave.
“Hi,” she mumbled back.
Jose glanced once at me, his eyes holding a hundred and one sermons and questions he wasn't saying aloud.
He cleared his throat once, adjusting in his seat. “We are late, Vaughn.”
“Breathe, Jose.” I glared at him cautiously.
I’d known Jose for the better part of my life and my career. While Ryan had me, there was Jose— the older brother I never had. I’d taken a liking to hockey shortly after we’d met, during the numerous trips to the rink where he worked with kids at the hockey facility.
My first skate as a pre-teen was all on him. He’d been there right from the beginning, staying involved in every stage of my career. If I’d become anything worth talking about now, he deserved the credit.
I helped Lola into the car, glad she at least let me.
And just before I could hop in after her, she scooted back to the entrance, her expression skeptical as she held my gaze.
I looked at her, holding back the urge to touch the dark strands of hair lining her forehead. “What is it, nutcracker?”
She finally allowed her eyes to roll, clearly annoyed by the name.
Too bad she wouldn't know how immensely satisfying that little eye roll was.
“Can we talk once we hit the road?” I suggested.
She nodded.
I got in then, taking my place next to her as she carefully drifted farther to the window’s end, her point clear and taken without needing to waste words.
Jose hit the road almost immediately and we were soon pulling out of Stratton.
The silence that came wasn't entirely stifling. The low drone of the car’s engine kept cutting through.
“Can we talk now?” Lola finally spoke again.
Cool, I was beginning to think she’d gone all shy again.
I dropped my whole attention on her. “Shoot, sweetheart.”
“Let’s start with the name, don't call me that,” She pleaded.
Her voice was low, firm, even grave. The displeasure in it hit me in ways I didn't expect.
I could feel Jose watching us through the rear-view mirror.
I groaned inwardly.
“What is it?” I said instead, not paying mind to what she’d just said as I leaned back into the leather seat, watching her watch me.
“…About that video” she paused, hesitating.
“Reported to campus security.” I disclosed. “It's been dealt with.”
“That was fast.” Her voice carried a hint of surprise.
“Bullying and harassment are a thing.”
“I know.”
Silence fell in our midst.
Her fists clamped and unclamped on her legs as she kept her unyielding gaze on me. It was beautiful to see how she could maintain eye contact to some extent without faltering, despite her undeniable discomfort.
“I hope no one thinks you were defending me,” she uttered. “I can fight my own battles,”
“I’m merely an alumnus…”
“I mean, you have this whole other buzz around you.”
I felt my lips twitch lightly in a grin that was rarely there. “You wanna kill the buzz?”
Gradually she lit up, her once tight facial expression now dissolving into a soft, baffling smile. “What?”
“We could visit a bee farm.” I gave her a lazy shrug. “If you killed a few bees… I won't tell.”
“Aren’t you insane?” She gasped, the edge of her voice breaking into tiny bits of laughter.
Oh, that was new and it was a charming sound.
“You know what I meant, Dane.” She wheezed, her cheeks heating with pink.
I stilled for a couple of seconds, my chest feeling like it was being caught in a snare.
She finally said my name.
Not Vaughn or Mister Vaughn, whatever that was— Just Dane.
“Stop the joke.” She added.
I shook my head, quietly countering her. “It’s not a joke, Lola. By the way, It’s just the NHL, the cameras and the fans— It's not all that.”
Jose cleared his throat and I shot him a glare for the first time in minutes.
“He begs to differ,” Lola pointed a finger in his direction, clearly amused.
I fixed my eyes back on her. “Typical Jose. But my recommendation still stands.”
“Your what?”
“Recommendation.” I deadpanned. “The Bee farm, buzz kill?”
“No.” She flashed me a bemusing smile. “I’m not committing bee homicide with you”
- Writer
