The Replay (Boys of Richland #3)

14. Cecilia

cecilia

. . .

Less than a week goes by before being home 24/7 starts to get to me. Suffocates me, really. Maybe that’s a little dramatic. Probably not, but after everything with Austin, I don’t know. I guess I thought finishing the semester online was the right move. It would give me some space to breathe. To forget about all the awful things that happened to me. But instead of peace, it feels like I’ve traded one set of problems for another. I thought stepping away from campus, away from the chaos, would help.

But I think I made a mistake. A colossal one.

The noise in my head isn’t gone, it’s louder in the silence of this house.

Mom is a stay-at-home wife, and while she has charity functions and the mayor’s office stuff to keep her busy, lately it feels like I’ve suddenly become her full-time project. She’s always hovering, checking in, bringing me food like I’m going to waste away if she doesn’t. I get it—she’s worried. But I’m not a child. I know she means well, but she doesn’t exactly pick the right moments. Like in the middle of my online lectures, when she insists on staying for a chat.

I’ve given her my class schedule, but it doesn’t matter. I’m a body in the house. A warm body means company. Since most of my coursework is self-directed, she’s taken that as an open invitation to drag me along on errands or expect me to keep her company all day.

Wednesday, she drags me to gentle yoga at the women’s club. Thursday, it’s brunch with the ladies from Dad’s office. By Friday? I’m seconds from screaming into a pillow.

So I do. Quietly. Right before I leave to meet Adriana for coffee before Mom has a chance to add anything to my schedule.

Parking my Jeep, I head into The Howling Cup and find her already waiting for me at one of the corner tables.

“Hey,” I call out. “Did you already order?”

She lifts her mug in the air, and I stick my tongue out at her before dropping my bag on the empty seat across from her. “Rude. Give me two minutes to grab my own and I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” she says. Her tone is light, but her fingers are tapping lightly against her cup—like she’s keeping track of the seconds I’m gone.

I shrug it off and head to the counter to order my coffee.

I order their special—a white chocolate, huckleberry mocha made with white coffee. It’s surprisingly good and it definitely hits the spot. Making my way back to our table, I take my seat and eye Adriana curiously.

“Who are you looking at?” I ask.

Adriana’s eyes don’t move from the table across the room, and I follow her line of sight, curious. She’s staring at a group of guys, all seated together with an easy, laid-back vibe, their laughter carrying across the café. There’s a pile of hockey sticks resting against the wall next to them, the oversized gear bags thrown haphazardly around their feet making it pretty clear these guys are on the university hockey team.

But it’s one guy in particular who seems to have captured Adriana’s attention. He’s tall, with messy black hair that falls over his forehead, and even from where I’m sitting, I can see the sharp angle of his jaw. He’s got this flirty smile on his face, and the way he keeps glancing over at Adriana ... it’s like he’s just waiting for her to notice him back.

“Adriana,” I tease, nudging her foot under the table. “You’re practically drooling. Who’s the guy?”

She blinks, tearing her gaze away from him to look at me. There’s a brief flicker of annoyance—like I’ve pulled her from something she didn’t want to leave—but it’s gone as quickly as it came. Her smile is instant, but something in her eyes shifts, like she’s forcing herself to focus on me when just seconds ago, she was a million miles away. “I am not drooling,” she protests, though her voice wavers. I arch a brow, calling bullshit.

“I see the way he’s looking at you. Come on, spill.”

Adriana glances over at him again, biting her lip before finally sighing. Her hands fidget with her mug, spinning it in slow circles as if she’s trying to work out exactly what to say. Or maybe how much to say. “His name’s Kenji. He asked me out the other day.”

My eyes widen, excitement bubbling up inside me. “What? Why the hell didn’t you lead with that? When are you guys going out?”

She takes a slow sip of her coffee, dragging it out way longer than necessary. “I don’t know. I told him I’d think about it.”

“Think about it? Girl, he’s hot! You should definitely say yes.”

Adriana shrugs, but I can tell by the way her fingers tap nervously on the table that she’s not completely against the idea. She shrugs again, and her shoulders tense, like she’s waiting for me to push. She’s looking down now, her eyes a little wide, almost like she’s scared to make a decision. “I don’t know. He seems nice, but … you know how it is. He’s a hockey player. And you know the reputation they have.”

There’s a flash of something in her eyes—doubt, maybe? Fear?—but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.

She’s talking, but it feels rehearsed—like she’s listing reasons to convince herself, not me.

I roll my eyes. “Not all athletes are players, Adriana. Look at Gabriel—he’s different.”

She gives me a pointed look. “Yeah, but Gabriel wasn’t always like that. You are the only girl he’s ever been like this with. What if Kenji’s just hoping for an easy lay? I … I’m not great at judging people’s intentions.” Her voice drops lower, quieter now, as if she’s revealing more than she meant to. Her fingers tighten around her mug.

“Or,” I counter, leaning forward, “what if he’s a good guy who actually likes you? Sometimes you just have to put yourself out there. Besides, he’s cute.”

Adriana glances back at him, and I don’t miss the small smile playing on her lips. “He is cute,” she admits, her cheeks flushing. “But I don’t know?— ”

I shake my head. “It’s just one date, right? You’re not committing to anything serious.”

She hesitates, her gaze drifting back to Kenji, who’s now laughing with his friends but sneaking glances in her direction when he thinks she’s not looking. It’s obvious—he’s waiting for her to say something. To make a move or approach his table maybe.

“You know what?” I say, giving her a nudge. “What if we do a double date? You guys with Gabriel and I?”

Adriana freezes, her fingers tightening around her cup. There’s a flicker of something behind her eyes—hesitation, or maybe even doubt—like she’s unsure whether to trust me with this decision. Then she releases a breath, her shoulders loosening like she’s letting herself settle into the idea. “Okay. Fine. I’ll go out with him, but you’re coming too.”

Victory. “Deal,” I say, grinning. “Now, text him and set it up before you chicken out.”

She laughs, pulling out her phone. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“Of course, I am. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t let a good thing slip away.”

Adriana pulls out her phone, her fingers moving fast over the screen like she’s trying to get it over with before she changes her mind. She hesitates for a second, her lips pressing together tightly before she places the phone face down on the table, almost like it’s a challenge. “Okay, it’s done. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic.” I give her a wink, and she rolls her eyes, but her smile is softer now, a little less forced.

We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping our drinks, and I can’t help but feel a little proud of myself. Kenji’s clearly interested, and Adriana deserves to have some fun. Plus, it’s nice to focus on someone else’s love life for a change.

Her phone buzzes on the table, and she glances at it before looking up at me, eyes wide. “He’s good with the double date idea. He wants to know if Tuesday next week sounds good?”

I lean back in my chair, a smug smile on my face. “It’s a date!”

Adriana shakes her head. “You’re the worst.”

“Or the best,” I counter, grinning. “This will be fun. Trust me.”

“MmmHmm. Might want to let your boyfriend know what you signed him up for.”

Adriana’s words land softly, but they carry an edge, like she’s testing them out—trying to figure out how I’ll react. Boyfriend. It’s not like I haven’t thought about it—Gabriel being my boyfriend—but hearing someone else say it out loud makes it feel more real. Like we’ve crossed some invisible line from casual to something more. And damn if that doesn’t give me all the warm fuzzies.

I bite my lip, trying to suppress the goofy grin spreading across my face, but Adriana catches it. “Oh my God, you’re totally swooning.”

“No, I’m not,” I say, even though we both know I am.

She arches a brow. “Liar.”

I swallow the immediate defensiveness that rises, brushing it off with a laugh. Okay, fine. I totally am. But I mean, can you blame me? Gabriel Herrera is just so … great. And hearing him referred to as my boyfriend ? It feels good. Better than good. Like maybe this whole "taking things slow" thing is exactly what we need.

I let out a little sigh. “Okay, fine. Maybe I am swooning a little. It’s just … I don’t know. It feels nice. Normal, even.”

Adriana smirks. “Normal isn’t a word I’d use to describe you two, but I get it. He’s good for you, Cecilia. Even I have to admit that.”

I smile into my cup, taking a sip of my coffee. “Yeah, he is.” And even though we’ve been through a lot—more than most people our age should have to deal with—I like where we’re headed. It’s not perfect, but it feels solid. Real.

Adriana’s phone buzzes again, pulling her attention back to the screen. “Alright. Tuesday is a go. You are not allowed to bail on me,” she says, holding up her phone. “Now all you need to do is tell Gabriel and remember, no bailing!”

I roll my eyes, but the smile on my face betrays me. “He’ll be fine with it.”

“You say that like you know he won’t complain about being forced on a double date without his consent. I assure you, he will. Gabriel doesn’t mingle outside of his crew. He won’t like it.”

I laugh. “He’s not going to complain. He’ll probably just grumble a little and then go along with it because that’s what he does.”

She gives me a look. “For you. Gabriel only ever bends for you.”

I shrug, but inside I’m doing mental backflips. “Maybe.”

Adriana leans back in her chair, a satisfied smirk on her face. “It will be nice to go out, I suppose. Kenji seems like a decent guy. I don’t get the typical asshole jock vibe from him that seems to follow most PacNorth athletes around.”

“Hey!” I admonish.

“The guys obviously excluded.”

“That’s better,” I tell her.

And if he’s not,” she shrugs, “one date won’t kill me.”

“Way to be positive.”

Adriana grins, nudging my foot under the table. “Yup. I’m just a regular old ball of sunshine.”