Page 4 of Cade

I look at my phone and know at least Pops will be awake, but Mom and Dad will most likely be too. I get my butt up and out of bed, hitting the bathroom first before I go looking for the much-needed coffee. Would I prefer a blended mocha with two extra shots and added caramel from Sooner or Later over a cup of drip coffee from home? I mean, I am extra like that, so is it any surprise that I like my coffee extra like that too?

As much as I would love to have one of those right now, I have no desire to hear from Pops or Dad about how much they are or that regular coffee is just as good or better than what I get, so I will take the homemade stuff and not say anything. At least Mom makes her creamer and makes a chocolate-flavored one that makes me not hate coffee from home.

I know I’m spoiled with my coffee. My dads might complain about it, but if I mention it, they both would jump up to take me. Unfortunately, driving will never be in the cards for me.

I walk into the kitchen, and the aroma hits me first as I walk over to the coffee station Mom put together a couple of years ago. Ironically, it was about the time that Daisy came into our world, and she started spending a lot of time over here. I get my first cup all doctored up before I hear voices coming from the sunroom. It’s my mom’s favorite room in the house. She loves to feel she’s outside but hates being cold. This was Dad and Pop’s solution. Most mornings you can find at least Mom in hereenjoying her coffee in quiet. Even Daisy knows to be quiet till after that first cup is finished. Asher, I swear, he’s the only one that forgets sometimes, and he wonders why Mom still smacks him the most.

I feel my phone vibrating with an incoming message, so I move to the dining table and have a seat as I take my first sip. I know we all go on about how much we love coffee, but if you lived in the Pacific Northwest, you’d understand. It’s serious business up here.

I take my phone out and unlock it. As soon as I see who sent me a message, I can’t keep the smile off my face.

Cade: I was right—working out the morning after a late night wasn’t bad at all. Either that, or the company last night made it completely worth it and has me hoping to repeat it sometime.

Me: I can’t imagine working out this early. I’m just having my first cup of coffee. I really enjoyed last night too.

“Something or someone has got you smilin’ big this morning.” I look up from my phone and see Dad standing in the doorway, both his and Mom’s coffee mugs in his hands. I’m not ready to dive into how much I enjoyed getting to know Cade lastnight, nor how long we texted after I got home, so I shrug my shoulders. “Just had a good time yesterday, that’s all.”

Pops, who’s not usually the observant one, speaks up from the other side of the room. He must still have been in their bedroom, getting ready for the day. “I think it’s more than that. I heard you giggling in your room last night, and at family day, you and that rugby player barely noticed anyone else around.”

Dad has moved over to the coffeepot and is pouring some for himself and Mom. I can see in the morning light that he’s thinking. He’s got the look he always gets when he’s figuring out what he’s gonna say. I don’t answer Pops. I know I should, but I also know it’s smartest and most self-preserving to wait to hear what Dad has to say. I know they may argue a lot, but when it comes to being dads to me and my brothers, Dad and Pops have always managed to be a united front together and with Mom too.

“Haven’t seen you that enthralled with someone since maybe that first time you met Mario,” Pops chimes in. “And we know what ended up happening with that fucker.” My eyes roll before my mind catches up with them.

“Pops. You liked Mario fine. He did nothing wrong. We broke up. We weren’t meant to be together. That’s it.”

I hear both of them grumbling. Dad heads back toward the sunroom, leaving with a parting quip. “I know you say you’refine and that he wasn’t a bad guy, but your feelings were hurt. You’re our little girl. That shit ain’t ever gonna sit right with us.”

Pops sits down across from me at the table. He sighs and looks at me. “Are you really over everything between you and Mario?”

I nod and try to explain to him the best way I can. “Yeah, I really am. I think when he told me he was moving back to Arizona to take care of his dad, and I didn’t have a desire to go with him, I realized I wasn’t as invested in our relationship as I thought. I know he didn’t ask me right away to go with him, but even when he did, saying no felt right, and he seemed kind of relieved too. I think that kind of solidified that our relationship had run its course. I enjoyed my time with him, but I know he’s not my person.”

Between what I say and whatever Pops reads on my face, I must have him convinced, because he nods his head as he takes a sip of coffee. He gives me a grin and asks, “So this rugby player guy, huh?” My eye roll is again an unconscious reaction as he continues. “Does this mean I’m gonna have to learn everything about that sport?” Like that would hurt him at all.

“We haven’t even been on a date yet, Pops. Let’s see how that goes before you start watching rugby games.”

He looks at me and nods but lets me know he’s already looked up some things. “You might need to know they’re usually calledmatches instead of games.” Yeah, I’m gonna need more coffee before he tells me anything more.

CHAPTER TWO

It’s days like today that I think you’re either a masochist or you deserve sainthood for dealing with my brother on a daily basis. Today I’m leaning toward the first one.

~Text from Hanna to Logan~

Cade

This past week has been pretty fucking amazing. I haven’t seen Hanna again but have spent hours texting and FaceTiming. She’s not only gorgeous, but she’s funny and so fucking smart. Yeah, I know, we haven’t even been on an actual date, and I’m close to gone for this girl.

Practice has been pretty decent, and I haven’t had to deal with Carol in the locker room trying to get with one of us and not grasping the concept of no. The only pain in the ass this week has been Zack Harrison. The fucker is like seventy percent ego and thirty percent talent, and I’m being generous with that. What he is for sure is one hundred percent an asshole. He thinks he’s the Pat Mahomes of rugby, more like the Johnny Manziel of our sport. He isn’t serious about his workouts, and he thinks his natural talent is enough to get him fame. He always goes on about making the national team so he can be seen by therealrugby leagues in the United Kingdom, Australia, and New Zealand. Like he has a chance in hell ofeverjoining the AllBlacks. With his work ethic, he doesn’t even stand a chance at the national team.

Ignoring him and not engaging in conversation seems to work most of the time. Carter and Zane have gone the other way and matched Zack’s self-righteous word vomit with creative insults.

Just yesterday morning after practice—one where Zack arrived almost fifteen minutes late—he was going on about how during the next couple of matches we have that there will most likely be a scout from the national team there watching. Just to see him, of course. He must have met some jersey chaser at the hotel we’re staying at because even as he droned on about how the scout was going to see how much his talent went to waste by playing for our team, he was quickly getting dressed. As he grabbed his stuff to leave, Carter, who doesn’t hide his dislike of him, uttered one sentence that had most of us trying to hide our laughter. Carter looked over to Zack and, with a straight face, told him, “I think I can speak for all of us when I tell you that nothing brightens up the locker room quite like your absence. Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.” Zack glared at him but hightailed it out of the room.

I know we don’t have the greatest replacements, but I’m honestly surprised that Coach Lingg hasn’t benched him, or at least sanctioned him, for being late so often. But I’ve wastedenough energy on that today. Time to get up and get today going. Focus is key on match day.

My phone buzzes with an incoming message. I haven’t looked at it yet today. I unlock it and see there are messages from four different people. The first two are from my mom and dad. Both say the same thing they always say. They are both slightly superstitious, so since I got my first phone in high school, they text the same message whether it was game day for football or during baseball season. Now they do it on every match day.

Mom: Give it your all! If you try your best, then you’ve left everything out there. Remember to have fun, and that we love you!