Tell Me It’s Right (Sweetspire #1)

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

GRACIE

“You know, I don’t ever remember being that obnoxious, even in middle school. Oh, hi, Gracie.” Keava stumbles through the back door and starts piling her belongings on the kitchen table. She’s somehow carrying twice as many things as she had when she left this morning. “Do you remember seventh grade?” she asks, heading for the fridge. “Demons. All of my kids are demons , I’m telling you.”

I watch wide-eyed as she pulls a bottle of wine from the fridge, screws off the top, and takes a huge gulp straight from the bottle. Her head falls back with a sigh, then she sets the bottle on the counter in front of her, seemingly taking in the room for the first time.

“Where’s Leo?”

I jab my thumb toward the basement. “He and Liam are finishing with the moving stuff.”

She snorts. “I’m surprised Liam showed up.”

I don’t bother telling her it was actually Leo who nearly bailed on me and slide onto one of the bar stools, my muscles exhausted from going up and down the stairs. And I can definitely feel a bruise forming from that damn table.

She pulls a glass from the cabinet and glances at me as she pours the wine. “You want one?”

My eyes shoot to the bottle she just wrapped her entire mouth around.

“There’s another bottle,” she adds.

“You going to drink that whole thing yourself?”

She shrugs and shoots me a wink. “Probably.”

I wave a hand. “I’m good.”

“I was thinking we could order in for dinner. Chinese or pizza—you have a preference?”

“Either is fine.” I chew on my lip, debating my next words. “Does the name Hailey ring a bell?”

Her eyebrows practically disappear into her hairline as her eyes dart from me to the basement stairs. “He talked about her?”

“No,” I admit, shifting my weight. I don’t know why I brought this up. “She was just calling a lot.”

“Oh. Figures.” She flicks her wrist at the questioning expression on my face. “Not really my place to say anything. And to be honest, I can’t keep up with whatever is going on between the two of them these days.”

Okay, so together. Or used to be together. Or something in between.

Not that it matters. Not that I care.

“Oh, hey, babe. Didn’t know you were home.” Leo bounds around the corner and plants a kiss on the top of Keava’s head before ducking into the fridge for a beer.

“You guys all finished?” she asks.

Leo wipes the sweat from his forehead and nods. My eyes drift to the hall, but no one comes in after him. Did he already leave?

Not that it matters.

Not that I care.

Keava starts complaining about the kids in her class again as Leo digs a second beer out of the fridge and pushes it across the counter. At first I think he’s giving it to me—weird, since he knows how much I hate beer—but then there’s a voice beside my ear.

“Thanks.” Liam takes the bar stool on my right.

“Liam,” says Keava. “Chinese or pizza?”

“Chinese.”

He’s staying ?

“I’ll order it.” Leo slides his cell from his pocket and disappears into the hall.

Keava sips her wine, her attention swinging back to me. “How’s the job search going?”

I grimace, my face hot as I feel Liam look at me. Maybe I should’ve taken Keava up on that drink offer. “Nothing yet,” I say, trying to keep my voice light. “But I sent out a bunch of new applications today.”

“Well, fingers crossed.” Keava smiles.

I have a feeling this question is going to be a daily occurrence.

I’ve been here twenty-four hours and it’s already twice as humiliating as I’d feared. It’s not like I need the reminder with my student loans looming over my head.

“You know,” Keava continues, “I could ask around for you. See if anyone knows of any openings.”

The burning in my face spreads down to my neck. “Oh really, that’s okay?—”

“The school has a daycare for the teachers, did you know that? I think they’re looking for someone.”

Daycare? Not that I have anything against it, but it’s not at all related to anything I’m good at.

“And you could always keep taking your little pictures on the side,” she adds.

Now the heat in my face turns into something else. My little pictures. My jaw clenches, but I don’t bother correcting her. Yeah, I tacked on photography as a minor for fun, but all the jobs I’ve been applying for have been for graphic design or social media management.

But even if I was pursuing photography, that’s a perfectly legitimate career too. I guess her attitude makes more sense now. She thinks I’m some artist with my head in the clouds and no intention of getting a job.

I pull in a slow, deep breath through my nose before responding. Maybe she didn’t mean it that way. I don’t want to piss her off, but I don’t want to keep having this conversation more.

Liam beats me to the punch.

“Actually, Gracie and I were talking about bringing her on at the shop. That is, if she agrees to it.” He turns and meets my eyes, expression entirely innocent.

“Oh?” says Keava.

I stare at him. The shop? I have no idea what that means. And judging by the way he’s leaving the floor open for me to fill in the blanks, he has no idea what I do either.

I don’t know why, and I don’t care, but he’s throwing me a life raft.

“Riiiiight,” I say. “The website does look like it needs some work.”

He nods seriously, though his lips are pinched together like he’s holding back a laugh. “It does.”

“Oh,” Keava repeats as Leo rounds the corner, phone held proudly in the air.

“Chinese will be here in thirty. Mom and Dad texted and are gonna swing by too.”

The grin overtakes Liam’s face, his eyes glued to mine. “Plenty of time to hammer out all of those new job details.”

“Pass the lo mein over here in case Gracie wants some more!”

“Mom, I don’t need any more?—”

“Well, you might get hungry again!”

The kitchen table is hardly big enough for six, but Leo brought in a few of the chairs from the deck so we could all squeeze around it. Dad pushes the plate across the jam-packed table, and Mom fusses with it until it’s directly at my side even though I’ve already polished off my plate and am too full for comfort.

Mom is practically vibrating in the seat next to me. She’s already said some variation of We’re so glad you’re home! three times, and I think it’s physically paining her to hold back from saying it again.

“Well, if we’re all finished…” Dad rises from his chair, removes his Giants hat, and reaches over to place it on Liam’s head.

“You can’t be serious,” I say. “After we just ate all that food?”

Dad shrugs and points at Liam. “‘Rematch anytime, anywhere’—I believe those were your words.”

“I’d hate for you to throw your back out or something,” says Liam. “You know, now that you’re in your old age.”

I shake my head as the two of them exchange unhinged grins and head for the rug in the living room. Leo jumps up to scoot the couch back to give them some extra space. The age-old Collins tradition of passing that ratty old hat to challenge someone to a leg wrestling match. I should’ve seen this coming the moment he walked in the door with it on.

I turn to Mom. “You’re not going to try to stop them?”

She shrugs and hops up to get a better view. “I kind of want to see him get his ass kicked, don’t you?”

“Let’s go, Dad!” cheers Leo as the rest of us crowd around to watch.

Liam gives him a disbelieving look as he and Dad lie down, their hips beside each other but facing opposite ways. They each lift the leg closest to the other and tap it to the ground alongside the three, two, one countdown. At one , they hook their legs at the knee, and I hold my breath, waiting to see who will move first.

Dad lets out a guttural yell, his complexation turning red beneath his salt-and-pepper stubble, and slowly, he pulls Liam closer until he flips all the way over, the hat falling from his head in the process.

Keava lets out a whoop behind me.

Dad looks seconds away from pounding his fists against his chest as he grins and spreads his arms wide. “Who’s next?”

Liam sighs as he gets up and leans against the couch beside me.

“You’re going down, old man,” says Leo.

“The age cracks are the best you all can do?” says Dad. “Really?”

I glance at Liam sideways as the next countdown begins. “You let him win,” I murmur.

His lips twitch, but he keeps his attention on the stalemate currently happening in the middle of the floor. “Was it that obvious?”

Finally, Dad’s the one to flip.

“Sorry to break your winning streak of…what was it? One?” says Leo.

“Come on, honey.” Mom helps him up and pats him comfortingly on the back.

“Gracie!” Leo tosses me the Giants hat, then points at the ground next to him.

Liam takes the hat, props it on my head, and gives it a nice pat. “Give him hell.”

I sigh, adjust the hat so it’s not covering my eyes, and join him on the floor.

“And now, the reigning champ returns,” Dad announces into his cupped hands.

I smirk as Leo and I raise our legs. At the end of the countdown, we hook, and it takes about a second until I have him flipped. You’d think he’d learn after all these years. He’s always too slow. By the time I feel his resistance kick in, I already have the momentum in my favor.

“That must be a new record,” Liam mutters.

“How? How? ” Leo flops onto his back and lets his arms and legs splay out around him. “Your legs are half the size of mine.”

I shrug and hold the hat up. “Mom? Keava?”

They both raise their palms and shake their heads.

“I know a losing battle when I see one,” says Mom.

“You’re a beast,” agrees Dad.

“Liam!” Leo hops up and joins him by the couch. “Please beat my sister. I don’t think her inflated ego will fit in this house anymore if she leaves here the reigning champ again .”

I don’t bother reminding him the last time Liam was able to beat me was probably seven years ago. Liam meets my eyes for a moment before settling in on the floor beside me.

“Kick his ass, Gracie!” yells Dad.

“Don’t you dare let me win,” I say.

Liam grins. “I would never.”

Three, two, one …

We hook legs, and I pool every ounce of strength. Liam doesn’t move nearly as easily as Leo did, but even with the way I can feel his muscles flexing, he doesn’t move me either. I manage to pull his leg an inch, but then just as quickly, he pulls me back. We stay locked like that—an inch one way, then the other. I grit my teeth, my hands curling into the rug beneath us, and my pinky brushes his.

A weird flash of heat rushes through me. I don’t know why such small contact in comparison to the way our legs are wrapped around each other makes me falter, but it does.

But it makes him falter too.

I recover first and have him flipped over in the next second.

The room erupts in applause.

“She strikes again!” calls Dad.

Liam sighs, sits up, and braces his arms on his knees. “One of these days, Little Leo.”

I smile and snatch the hat back. “Not on your life.”