Page 3 of Holiday Hostilities
But what I don’t mention is that I flew into Atlanta earlier today as a passenger, because I had a job interview to attend.
“Is that why you missed our game tonight? A delay?” Triple J asks.
“I was really bummed, because I would have loved to have seen Jake play.”
This is entirely avoidant of Jimmy’s question, but not a lie, whatsoever. I’ve never seen Jake play a game for the Cyclones live before. The last game of his that I got to see in person was over three years ago, when he was still playing for the Boston Freeze.
Today, I was hoping to make it through my interview in time to catch the guys’ game, and I was pretty choked when I found out my interview slot clashed with the puck dropping.
“Oh, you missed a good one.” Colton nods appreciatively. “Marino scored the most beautiful goal in the second.”
“With an assist by me,” Jake chimes in. “Dream team strikes again.”
“Damn right.” Colton holds up his hand and my brother high-fives him. “Pity you weren’t there to see it, Olivia,” he adds.
“Mmm,” I say noncommittally, doing everything I can to not look in Aaron’s direction again.
While I’m sad I didn’t get to see Jake in action, I have to admit that I’m a tiny bit relieved I didn’t have to watch Aaron Marino take to the ice to the applause of his adoring fans. He has a literal fan club who call themselves “Aaron’s Army,” and it’s comprised of (presumably braindead) women who wear his jersey and hold up signs that say things like “Future Mrs. Marino” and the slightly more crass “Number 22, I wanna do you!”
Like I said, braindead. There arewaybetter players they could be lusting over.
Although, Jake did mention that the Cyclones’ captain is retiring at the end of this season and Aaron’s being considered to step into the role.
Apparently the Cyclones’ management are braindead, too.
But hey, I’m not responsible for other people’s poor life choices.
“Let’s get a drink,” Jake says, and I nod at my big brother. I’mprettysure he’s glad I’m here, but like I said, he’s not the most expressive. He’s the strong and silent type, with a touch of grouchy, while I’m more the back-and-forth quips type. Also with a side of grouchy.
Some real fun genetics we have, clearly.
The two of us sidle off, leaving Colton and Triple J to chat with a pair of beautiful, raven-haired identical twins who recently appeared in the VIP area.
“Singers,” Jake tells me as he follows my gaze.
“Thought they looked familiar,” I say, now placing them as the hot, new R&B act who have that one song on the radio all the time. I smack my brother on the shoulder good-naturedly. “Lookat you, rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous.” I frown. “Although, I guess you’re technically included in that bracket now.”
Jake huffs a short laugh, scratching at his dark brown beard. “Hardly. I leave the fan clubs to Marino and Sebastian Slater—pair of pretty-boy bastards. I never come to places like this after games. I only came tonight ‘coz I thought you’d want to.”
I blink, but quickly hide my surprise.
I have to say, I’m touched. Jake always had a particular loathing for places like this, and his coming here for me—coupled with his (albeit misplaced) protectiveness earlier—are how I know he actually cares.
It also reassures me that I’ve made a good decision, coming here for an interview.
After eight years living in the UK, I’ve chosen not to renew my work visa and instead look for a job that’s based in the States. When the opportunity to interview with AmeriJet and potentially base myself in Atlanta came up, I jumped on it.
So long London, hello putting down some roots after years of spreading my wings.
Plus, given that Jake is perpetually single, and with our mom and dad both remarried with new families, I really want to make the effort to be closer with my brother.
Blood runs thicker than water. And while I know that Jake has a solid support system here (literally—his teammates are all built like brick walls), I like the idea of us being in the same city again. Besides, Jake’s closest friend is Aaron Marino, and I really shouldn’t allow that idiot to be the main person Jake depends on in Atlanta. Because if Aaron is anything, he’s undependable.
I learned that little fact a long time ago.
“Hey, Jake,” I hedge as we approach the bar. “What if I had the opportunity to be around more? Spend more time with you?”
“Like, in Atlanta?” he asks, but before I can answer he adds, “What’re you drinking?”