Made For Us, page 3
He looks back at me, but because he’s wearing sunglasses, I can’t see where he’s actually looking. “Christopher,” he mimics me, “can you come help me move a couple of boxes?”
“One,” I say, holding up my finger at him, “you were drinking, so the fact you think you remember anything I said is comical.” He shakes his head. “Two, I said can you come and help me move into my house.”
“Why the hell wasn’t this done when you moved to town a month ago?” he asks, taking off his sunglasses and then, seeing how bright it is in the room with all the curtains opened from the wall-to-wall back windows leading to the backyard, puts them back on. He walks over to the steps on the right side and sits down on the middle one, putting his elbows on his knees and hanging his head in front of him.
“How the hell was I supposed to know Dallas would be in the playoffs for eighty-five years?” I throw up my hands and walk over to the fridge, opening it to grab myself a bottle of sparkling water. “Don’t bother renting movers,” I mimic every single man in my family, “the whole family is going to be there. We can help you move.” I unscrew the white cap off the green bottle hearing the hiss of gas. “The whole gang of us can come and help you.” I take a sip of the cool bubbly water, mumbling, “Bullshit.” Right after
“Hello, hello, hello,” Gabriella comes through the door shouting. Her hair is piled on her head, and she’s wearing black yoga leggings with a matching sports bra and her own sunglasses on the top of her head. Following is my cousin, Matty. His actual name is Matthew, but because our family has no originality, they just keep naming us after family members, so we have called him Matty to not confuse anyone. Who is also carrying a box that says towels. I try not to laugh at him since I’m sure there was a heavier box outside, but he took this one instead. He too is wearing the same thing that Christopher is wearing, just the same color shoes.
“Can you tone it down just a touch?” Christopher whines, holding his hand up and moving it up and down. “There is an echo in the house.”
“There is no echo in the house.” Gabriella shakes her head, looking him up and down and pointing at his shoes. He finally looks down and must see that they’re two different colors, but he takes off his sunglasses anyway to make sure.
“Where is everyone?” Matty says from beside Gabriella, looking around.
“My guess is they are sleeping.” I look at my Apple Watch and see that it’s just a little after eight thirty in the morning.
“Didn’t you tell everyone to get here bright and early?” Matty walks over to his partner in crime and sits beside him.
“What time did you guys go to bed last night?” Not only did my brother and cousin make the playoffs but they also won the Stanley Cup. The past ten days have been one celebration after another. It’s been a whirlwind since they won the Cup. Then the party at home. Then the parade and street party. Then the team party, it’s just been one party after another. Finally, yesterday was the last event they were doing, and in five days, we are finally going on vacation.
“I haven’t,” he says. “I left Dylan’s at four and decided it would be better to just stay up.”
“We went over to my house,” Matty adds, “and decided to make breakfast.” I just stare at him with my eyes big. “Let’s just say my mother was not a fan of the pans hitting the floor. So she kicked us out.”
“We tried to sneak into Uncle Matthew’s house, but the alarm went off. Also, did you know that he sleeps naked?” Christopher informs, cringing.
Matty just laughs beside him, shaking his head. “He was not a happy person.”
“Okay, how about I order some food for you two?” I suggest, walking to my phone. “You just bring the boxes in, and I’ll organize them.” I open the Uber Eats app. “What do you want?”
“Pancakes,” Christopher rattles off, “scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, fries.”
“I’ll take two of that,” Matty says, pointing at Christopher.
“Does anyone want a mimosa?” Gabriella says, and the guys just groan, “Don’t drink with the big boys if you are straight out of daycare.”
Christopher gets up and looks at her. “That makes no sense.” He holds out his hand to help Matty up, who just swats his hand away.
“I can do it myself,” Matty declares, getting up and then falling back down on the wooden step, hitting his elbow. “Motherfucker.” He rubs his elbow and gets up. “Can we just get this over with?” He takes out his phone. “Where the hell is Stefano?”
“I’m right here,” my other cousin, Stefano, says, dressed in blue shorts and a white shirt, holding a box in his hand. “There are a million boxes outside.”
“Listen”—I look at the three of them—“if it’s too much work for you guys, I can always call the girls.” I look at Gabriella. “Last time, it took us forty-five minutes to unload Zoey’s things.”
Stefano looks over at Christopher. “We can do it.” Christopher nods at him. “Dude, why are you wearing two different shoes?”
“It’s a fashion statement,” Christopher grumbles, making Matty laugh.
“Yeah, it’s an ‘I got dressed in the dark look and didn’t notice,’” Matty explains. “Let’s go and beat the record.” They all walk out of the house.
“It took us seven hours to do Zoey’s house,” Gabriella reminds me, folding her arms over her chest and looking over at me. “Well played.”
I nod my head. “I must get it from Uncle Matthew,” I say, turning back to the phone and ordering five of everything the guys said they wanted.
It takes them three hours to get all the boxes inside the house, but that’s because they stopped to eat for an hour. The three of them leave, heading straight to each of their respective houses to sleep.
Gabriella and I work side by side, unpacking the whole kitchen, which takes us the longest time. By the time I walk up the stairs to go and tackle my bedroom, I’m honestly exhausted. As soon as I step into my bedroom, I take off my flip-flops and walk over to the white side table, putting down the glass of water I brought up. The bed is still unmade from this morning, so I just throw the cover back on it. I walk over to the tall brown boxes and open one to see all the clothes hanging. Walking over to the white door to the side of the bed, I open the door and turn on the light. It takes me a full hour before everything is hung up, and I’m walking to my en suite to start a bath. My head hits the pillow about twenty minutes later, and I only wake up when I hear the soft alarm ring.
I slept thirteen hours, and when I wake up, I feel like shit. My whole body aches, and I wonder if it’s because I’ve been burning the candle at both ends. Between moving here and then the partying, I’m exhausted. I get out of bed, and the minute I do, my body shivers. I put the back of my hand against my forehead, and I feel like I’m on fire. Getting up, I walk over to the bathroom and take my temperature, and only when I try to swallow do I feel like razors are going down. “Shit,” I curse, opening my mouth and looking in the mirror. I walk over to my phone and call Chase, who answers after one ring.
“Hello,” he greets, and I can hear that he’s in the car.
“Hey,” I reply. “I have a fever of one hundred and one, and I think I see white spots at the back of my throat.”
“We leave in three days,” he says out loud.
“What do you want me to say, Chase?” I ask him. “Should I tell strep throat to come back while I’m on vacation.”
“Are you home, smart-ass?”
“I am,” I confirm. “I can come to you.”
“No,” he says, “I’m on my way over to the rink. I’ll stop at your house first.”
“I thought hockey was done after you won the Cup,” I state, and he just laughs.
“I have to clean out my office and make sure that everything is ready for next season. I’ll be there in ten.”
I hang up the phone and walk back to the bathroom, taking my temperature again and seeing it hasn’t changed. I groan and make my way downstairs. I’m about to make a coffee when there is a knock on the door. I walk over and open it, seeing it’s Chase.
“You look like shit,” he greets me, and I just nod.
“Thanks.” I roll my eyes. “I wonder why because I feel like a million bucks,” I tell him, and he walks in with his little black bag.
He looks around. “Did you already unpack everything?” he asks, and I just look at him.
“I start work when I get back,” I inform him. “So I didn’t want to come home from vacation and have to unpack everything.”
“Sit down,” he urges, pointing at the stool in the kitchen tucked under the island table.
I sit down as he opens his bag and takes out blue medical gloves. “That’s a bit too much,” I say, and he laughs and feels under my chin toward my ears.
“Your lymph nodes are a bit swollen.” He opens his bag and takes out a tongue depressor. “Say ahh,” he says, “and stick out your tongue.”
“I know what to do.” I glare at him, sticking out my tongue. He presses down on it with the stick, making me gag. “You did that on purpose.”
“Did I?” He just looks at me. “You definitely have strep throat.” He looks at me, and I point at the sink. He turns and walks over to the sink, opening the bottom door and throwing out the stick and the gloves. He washes his hands right away. “I’m going to give you Zithromax since it’s a five-day dose. You’ll start to feel better after day three.”
“Wow, you would think I didn’t go to nursing school,” I remind him, and he just smiles at me.
“But are you a doctor?” He walks back to the black bag and grabs his white script pad.
“I don’t know if you heard,” I share with him as he fishes around his bag for a pen, “Nurses are higher up there than doctors.” He just looks over at me as I shrug. “Don’t hate the player. Hate the game.”
He throws his head back and laughs out loud. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“What is all this noise?” Gabriella whines from on top of the stairs. “I’m trying to sleep.”
“Your sister has strep throat,” Chase tells her, and she just gasps.
“Am I going to get it?” She puts her hand to her throat, somehow trying to shield herself. “We leave for vacation in a couple of days,” she groans.
“You don’t think I know that,” I hiss at her. “You think I want to go on vacation sick?”
“Maybe I’ll go and stay with Mom and Dad.”
“Yes, do that,” I tell her as Chase rips the paper off the pad. “I’ll drive you.”
“This was fun,” Chase says. “Also, don’t forget that this can mess with your birth control.” Gabriella laughs, and I just glare at him as he holds up his hand. “I have to tell you.”
“Honey,” I yell up the stairs, “got to pick up condoms on the way back home today.”
He just looks at me with big eyes, going from me and then up to the bedroom, “I’m joking, dickhead.” I push away from the counter and walk over to the stairs. “Now, I’m going to go and get this filled, and I’m going to sleep until I have to pack.”
“Are you going to pack your fake boyfriend to go with you?” Gabriella rolls her lips.
“He’s busy,” I deadpan, walking up the steps and flipping her the bird. “He’ll be hanging with your boyfriend all weekend.” It’s her turn to glare at me. Something she hasn’t mentioned since she’s been back is the guy she was sort of kind of, kind of, not sure she was dating, “Don’t mess with the big boys if you are.”
“Shut up,” is all she says. The only thing I can think of is that if I did have a boyfriend, it wouldn’t be the guy I’ve always wanted because he doesn’t even know I exist.
CHAPTER FOUR
TRISTAN
I pull into my parking spot and get out of the SUV, my head still throbbing from ten days ago. I take the keys in my hand and press the button to lock the doors at the same time Xavier comes in and parks his car.
Looking over at the SUV, I decide to wait for him. When he gets out of the car, he looks just like I feel. “How’re you feeling?” I ask him, and he just shakes his head, making me laugh.
“I don’t think I’ve ever drank so much in my whole life.”
I chuckle. “Well, it’s not every day you are a hero and lead your team to win the Stanley Cup.” I roll my lips, knowing this is all he’s heard for the past ten days. Every single time he corrects everyone and says it was a group effort. “Do you have a cape on under that shirt?” I ask him as I pull open the metal door leading into the arena.
There are people everywhere, and I don’t know why I’m surprised since today is clean out your locker day. Usually, it is done as soon as you finish the season, but after winning the Cup, there have been so many fucking parties there was no time to do anything. Thank God my family is down and watched Penelope at night because I don’t know how she would have kept up with all these parties. “I’m going to go home tonight.” I look over at him as we walk down the blue carpeted hallway. “And I’m going to sleep for fifteen hours.”
He laughs at me as we walk into the changing room, and I see we are the last two to arrive. “Boys,” I greet, nodding as I take in that most of the guys are just sitting down with either water in their hands or Gatorades. The night we won the Cup, I think we left the arena at seven in the morning. The families stayed and took pictures on the ice with us, but then when we went to the locker room, it was chaos, to say the very least. I think it finally sank in that we won, and everyone got their third or fourth wind. The champagne was flying all over the place, and the amount of beer that was drunk was insane. One of the guys actually did an interview while drinking a can of beer, and the interview made no sense whatsoever.
“I’m not drinking for the next six months,” Dylan announces, downing the rest of his water in the bottle. He closes the bottle and tosses it in the big bin in the middle of the room and misses it, making us all laugh. “I literally have no strength in my whole body.”
“Did you hear what your brother did?” Cooper looks over at Dylan as I sit down in my place right next to Xavier. I get up after sitting for two minutes, grabbing a bottle of water and then looking over at Xavier, who just nods at me so I get him his own bottle.
“My brother?” Dylan points at himself.
“He tried to sneak into my father’s house two nights ago.” He laughs, and Dylan just shakes his head. “My father came running out of the bedroom while the alarm was blaring.”
“Why the hell did he try to break into the house?” Dylan just shakes his head. “Idiot.”
“No idea,” Cooper says, “but he and Matty were busted and then spent the whole day helping Abigail unpack.” The minute I hear her name, the tightness forms in my stomach as I try not to listen to what they say. It always feels like I’m stalking her. Taking out my phone, I open it up to see we got an email from Nico with all the pictures we took the night we won.
Sliding through them, I see the winning goal captured frame by frame. “Did you see this?” I look over at Xavier, showing him the picture, who just shakes his head. I slide through and find a picture of Penelope and me. “Look at her smile,” I say, showing Xavier the picture. “She had the best time.” I swipe again, seeing a picture someone took of me, Penelope, and Abigail. I press the save button and then slide through until I see the parade pictures.
“It’s a blur,” I state. “The past ten days have been a blur, and I really wish I remembered most of it.”
The guys all laugh as they get up and start packing their lockers. I get up, putting my phone away, before walking over and grabbing a garbage bag to throw shit out. “What are you doing after this?” Xavier asks as he leans over and throws some of his stuff in my garbage.
“No idea,” I say truthfully. “I’m going back home in a couple of weeks to stay at my lake house and start training. You?”
“Family vacation,” he replies, opening his backpack and tossing in some of his hockey tape. “Why don’t you and Penelope come?”
I look over at him. “I don’t know.” I chuckle. “It’s a family vacation.”
“And you’ve been a part of that family longer than I have. You are practically there every Sunday for lunch.” He points out a little fact that I usually forget since it’s become a ritual with Penelope and myself.
“Yeah,” I agree. The minute I found out about Penelope, the whole Grant-Stone family was behind me. There was never a moment they judged me or made me feel like a horrible person for any of it. I mean, it took Julia a while to warm up to me, but that is only because she was the one who was the caseworker for Penelope. “Maybe.” I think about how much fun Penelope would have. She loves her time at the lake, but she would really love to go to the beach. “Are you sure this is okay?” I look back over at Xavier, who just nods his head. “It’s a family vacation. I don’t want to intrude.”
“Please,” Xavier pffts me. “Cooper,” he calls over to Cooper, who is tossing all his shit into his equipment bag. I don’t even think he’s looking at what he’s putting in there. “How many people coming on the family trip?”
“Fuck if I know. I think we were up to eighty,” Cooper answers, shaking his head.
“So would two more matter?” He motions over to me, and he just laughs.
“Fifteen more wouldn’t matter at this point,” Dylan interjects as Michael laughs.
“I’m dreading this plane ride,” Michael groans, looking over at me. “Just make sure you bring earplugs.”
I think about it for a second, and perhaps I should have thought about it a little more, but I can’t help myself. “This sounds like so much fun. What’s the worst that can happen?”
The whole group of guys moans when I say that. “Well, one year, I woke up, and my brother was wakeboarding naked,” Cooper says of Chase, “and then my daughter drew a picture at school about it.”
“One year,” Dylan holds up his hand, “Wilson and Franny got caught doing it against a tree.”
