Blocked (46 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Lane

BOOK: Blocked
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“Dane’s glad Lucia will be moving out soon,” I supplied as I watched my sister to make sure she didn’t open her mouth.
Time for redirection
. “So, Dad, how’s the painting coming along?”

“Exquisitely. I’d love to show you my latest piece, if that’s okay.” He extracted his phone from his pocket, scrolled through photos, and handed it to me before obtaining my permission. Shades of red blasted off the screen, and I couldn’t take my eyes off the photographed canvas.

“What do you think?”

I glanced up to find my dad sporting an easy smile, but his fidgeting hands belied his nervousness about my appraisal.
Huh
. I’d never thought he cared about my opinion. I looked back down. The painting had movement and vitality, visible even in a photo, and the undulating crimson waves made me think of geysers of lava. “It looks…pissed off.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” He shrugged. “I just painted what I felt. My agent thinks it’s my best work in years.”

“It’s a powerful work,” I admitted. “Quite evocative.”

“Let
me
see.” Jessica reached for the phone.

Dad’s eyes held mine for a moment, and it felt like he was paying attention to me for the first time in years. He seemed weary, sort of sad. He cupped my shoulder. “How’s school going?”

I didn’t know how to respond at first. “Fine.”

“Sophomore year.” He smiled. “That was a big party year for me in college. In fact, why’re you empty handed? It’s a celebration—let’s get you a drink.”

Before I could protest, he’d disappeared to the main ballroom, undoubtedly headed for the cash bar. I shoved my hands in the pockets of my dress pants.

“I have to say I don’t
get
this painting,” Jessica said as she looked up from Dad’s phone. Her cheeks pinked.

I chuckled as I took the phone. “I think that’s a good thing. It means you haven’t been to hell and back, like some of us.” Just then Dad’s phone vibrated, and I held my breath.
Should I read the text?
I looked around the room, but the agents chatted or guarded the doors, not really paying attention to me. I couldn’t help myself:

Self-absorbed prick. I can’t BELIEVE you’re with her.

I gasped—that
had
to be Dad’s mistress.

“What’s wrong?” Jessica grabbed for the phone, but I yanked it out of her reach.

“Nothing.” My stomach twisted with revulsion. It was
her
. Fucking floozy ho-bag. But she was furious with my dad? Did that mean my parents’ marriage still had a chance?

I froze when my mother entered the room, trailed by Steve. She made a beeline for us. After she hugged my sister, she turned to me and cocked her head. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Maybe a ghost of affairs past.
I gulped as I slipped his phone into my pocket. “Nah, I’m cool.” I forced a smile. “I’m just stoked for your big win!”

She blinked at me for a moment, her psychologist brain seeming to work overtime, but then she shook her head. “Steve says Florida’s going to Ramirez.” She gestured over her shoulder, and I saw Steve about twenty feet away, scowling at a piece of paper in his hands. “So it’s not over yet.”

“But you expected the Latino vote would swing to them, right?”

“Florida was still up in the air, though. It’ll be tight. But thank you both for being here.” She reached out for me, and I held on to her for an extra-long hug. She’d been through so much.

“Of course we’re here,” I said.

“Here we are.” Dad arrived and stretched a beer bottle my direction, but Mom spun around.

“What’re you
doing?”
she hissed.

Dad’s bewildered gaze darted back and forth between Mom and me, and he slowly retracted the offered brew. It looked delicious. “Getting our son a drink. What’s the big deal, Lois?”

“For one thing, it’s a media disaster. He’s underage! And he can’t have alcohol anyway. If you were involved at
all
in his life, you’d know why.”

“Like
you’ve
been mother of the year,” Dad spat.

Her eyes blazed. “How
dare
you.”

“Mom?” Jessica’s voice quivered, and when I peeled my eyes away from the clusterfuck that was my parents’ marriage, I saw tears in her eyes. I stepped around Mom and draped my arm across Jessica’s shoulders.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, with a squeeze. On the other side of me, Mom seemed to shake from anger, so I cradled her elbow in my free arm.

Dad looked at the three of us standing together, in obvious distress, and he took a step back. “I’m sorry.” He swallowed. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been such an idiot.” He gazed at Mom. “I hope what I told you tonight means something. For you. For us. But now I realize I can’t make this all better in an hour. You’re too hurt for that.”

I glanced to my right and saw her mouth tremble. She nodded.

“Of course you’re hurt. I’ve made a proper mess of things.” Dad shook his head.

“What’re you guys talking about?” asked Jessica.

When Dad met my eyes, I told him, “She deserves to know.” I looked at my mom. “Jess is stronger than you think.”

Steve swooped in next to my mom. “Mr. DuPont, how ’bout you head back to the party? We’re pretty busy back here.”

Dad hung his head for a moment before he nodded. “Jessie, let’s talk.” He looked to my mom, and she must have given her approval because his fingers curled as he beckoned my sister. I nudged her toward him.

“Wait—here’s your phone.” I handed it to Dad and watched him lead Jessica to a corner of the room.

Mom let out a rush of air, and Steve clasped her forearm. “You okay, Lo?”

She gave him a wobbly smile and nodded. “Thanks for getting rid of him.” She patted his hand. “Find out the latest Colorado numbers, okay?”

As I watched their exchange, something felt strange. They seemed curiously intimate. I studied Steve as if seeing him for the first time, with his compact build and shrewd brown eyes. He smiled at my mom before he left, and then she turned to me.

Her voice wavered. “Why’d you have Patrick’s phone?”

I wasn’t sure if my heartbeat kicked up from seeing her so shaken or at the thought of her possibly finding out about the text. “He showed me his latest painting.”

“Ah.” She blinked. “
Homage to Fuck Off
.”

I suppressed a laugh.

“Evidently he’s working through his anger toward my father.”

Maybe
I
should pick up painting too, then.
“Mom, what did Dad tell you tonight?”

Her eyes flickered. “He wants me back.” She huffed out a breath. “He said he made a huge mistake. He wants to go to couples counseling, work it out.”

“Wow. That’s some kind of timing he has, huh?”

“Honestly, it’s been a good distraction. There was always more I could do during the campaign, but tonight…well, now I’ve done all I can. It’s out of my control, and I’m incredibly nervous.”

“But it feels good to put it all out there, whatever the outcome.”

She smiled at me. “Exactly, Mr. Volleyball Player. You know what that’s like.” Her smile faded. “I’m glad he told me. It feels validating to know he still wants me, even if I’m not sure we can work this out.”

“Because of your feelings for Steve?”

She flinched, then gaped at me for a long minute. “Steve and I are friends, and that’s all…even though he wants more.”

“And you?” I looked into her eyes. “What do you want?”

“I want things to be simpler.” Her grin seemed cheeky. “I want to be President of the United States.”

This time I did laugh. “Yeah, ’cause those things go together
real
well.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe you saw through Steve’s feelings.” She straightened my shirt collar and gazed up at me. “You’re becoming quite the psychologist, hmm?”

I shrugged.

“Of course, this is familiar territory to you—forbidden romance and all.”

I looked at my watch. Lucia’s match had started fifteen minutes ago.

“Go to Lucia, Dane.” When I inhaled sharply, she patted my chest. “This election will last late into the night, and you being here won’t affect the outcome. We’ll be okay.” I looked over to Jessica and Dad in the corner, but Mom cupped my face and turned my attention back to her. “Jessie will take the news better than you, because now there’s hope for reconciliation. You didn’t have that. And unlike your situation, I’ll be here for her. I’ll make sure John keeps her away from the cash bar.”

When my mom’s eyes twinkled, I chuckled. “But, Mom—”

“I’ll be fine, honey. I’ve got two men who love me, and soon I’ll be president.
Go
, Dane. Go to her.”

I kissed her cheek. “Will you tell Jess I’ll be there for her meet next weekend?” When Mom nodded, I hustled over to Brad. “Hey, I want—”

“China’s already got the SUV fired up, Maverick,” he said with a grin. “Let’s roll.”

After China broke all kinds of traffic laws, we lurched to the curb near the gym. I could hear the cheerleaders from outside:
Cou, cou, cou, cou-gars!
Inside the gym, it was a wall of sound. A glance at the scoreboard told me Highbanks was up seven to two over Indiana University in the second game. China veered toward Allison, who stood on the gym’s upper level, and Brad led me to the bleachers behind the Highbanks bench. Frank must have been somewhere here too.

Focused on the game, Lucia didn’t see me come in, but the one TV camera on the floor did. I ignored it as it swiveled to point at me and watched my girl play our favorite game. Lucia and Maddie went up for the block, but the Indiana hitter managed to hit through them. Kaitlyn’s missed dig made it side-out to IU, and I turned to a motherly type sitting next to me. “Who won the first game?”

“Cougars!” She grinned.

Phew
. Hopefully Nina was playing better this match. But then the Indiana server rattled off four zingers that stymied the Highbanks defense and tied the game, and Coach Holter called a time out. When Lucia jogged over to the huddle, she happened to scan the stands, and she jumped when she saw me. Her mouth formed the cutest O as her eyes grew big. My heart thrummed and her huge smile undoubtedly matched mine.

“You okay?” she mouthed.

I nodded and tapped the big metal button on my lapel that read GO MONROE.

Her eyes sparkled as she shook her head.

I worried Coach would have a hissy fit that her focus wasn’t on the team, but he funneled his rage on the defense, jabbing his finger at Kaitlyn and Lynette. The referee blew his whistle, and the teams took the court again. Another serve screamed across the net, but this time Kaitlyn executed a clean pass to Nina, who set a good ball. Lucia flew like an angel—
damn
, her vertical leap was impressive—and slammed the ball at a vicious angle. The IU libero didn’t have a chance in hell to dig that heat-seeking missile.
Point, Highbanks
.

Lucia high-fived Nina, then snuck a quick wink in my direction. That wink did all kinds of dirty things to my body. A tingle in my toes jolted up my legs and made me hard in an instant. The racing thud of my heartbeat, the burn in my hands, desiring her hair in my clutches, craving the touch of her sweet, smooth skin…I swallowed. I hadn’t noticed how warm it was in the gym, and I loosened my tie.

When Lucia’s next block stuffed the opponent, she fist-pumped as she hopped up and down, then wrapped Maddie in a hug. A bead of sweat trickled down my back, and I peeled off my suit jacket. I draped it over my lap to hide my growing problem. After a few more kills by Lucia, the nape of my neck felt wet. I folded up my shirtsleeves to my elbows.

“You gonna strip it all off?” Brad leered as he leaned in.

“Wish I could. It’s
hot
in here.” And she was undoing me with her astounding play.

There was often a time late in the season when underclassmen stepped up their game, confidently filling the holes left by graduating seniors. A changing of the guard, so to speak. It had happened for me when our starting setter’s old knee injury acted up in our home game against Bridgetown last spring. When Phil had put me in, at first I’d thought I would hurl, but I’d been ready. I’d run the offense like a Tesla Roadster—smooth, precise, and confident—just like Lucia’s play at the moment. There was no need for Nina to set Maddie because Lucia crushed every ball sent her way. It was a thing of beauty.

After the match, which Highbanks won three games to zero, I headed to the hallway outside the locker room with my agents behind me. Hanging by the wall was a muscular guy, almost my height, and when I got closer I recognized him immediately. But he was the one who first spoke. “Dane Monroe, right?”

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