40. Aaron

40

AARON

Jake stomps out onto the deck and kicks at the snow with the toe of his boot.

“A white Christmas in Atlanta, who would have thought?” I ask lightly. I’m fully aware that he’s pissed, though I’m not quite sure why. Jake sometimes gets into these grumpy spells, but this feels different. More directed.

To the point that I could almost believe he’s jumped to some conclusion about me and Olivia that isn’t even half of the real story.

But I know that’s ridiculous. And I know my friend. I need to ease into that particular conversation. Take it slow and careful.

Otherwise he’ll probably punch me in the face.

“Hmpf,” he mutters, unzipping his jacket. “Dunno how it’s snowing. It’s not even cold out here.”

He throws off his coat, and I can’t help but snort when I see what he’s wearing underneath.

“Nice sweater.”

“Sofia made me wear it.” He glowers down at his ugly Christmas sweater, which features several fluffy white kittens wearing Santa hats. He then turns that glare my way. “And speak for yourself.”

I run a hand over my Tree Rex sweater. “I wore it of my own volition.”

“You would.”

I don’t reply.

Jake looks at me.

I look at him.

He clenches his fists and narrows his eyes while I try to keep my stance as relaxed as possible, genuinely wondering at this point what on earth could be making him so upset and if he’s somehow found something out about Olivia and me.

We stand there, on my deck, two huge hockey players locked in a freaking faceoff while adorned in ugly Christmas sweaters. I’m sure the sight would be comical for anyone looking.

“You move my little sister into your house and then start screwing her?” Jake suddenly blurts out. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Woah, woah, woah. It’s not like that,” I say, trying to remain calm. “Look, I’m not sure where you heard that from, exactly, but that’s not?—”

“How do you explain this ?” Jake thunders, whipping out his phone.

My eyes bug as I take in the picture on Brandi’s Instagram—which has an annoyingly large amount of followers. It was posted earlier today with the caption:

“Looks like Aaron Marino got a brand new redhead for Christmas! But in true roachy fashion, his latest conquest happens to be his own teammate’s little sister. How low will this guy stoop? Someone’s definitely on Santa’s naughty list this year #roachboy #donewithaaronmarino”

Fricking Brandi.

I was just thinking the other night that I hadn’t heard from her in ages, and I was naive enough to believe that maybe she had moved on… but here she is again, popping up like the ghost of freaking Christmas past, dead set on haunting me.

“Well, first and foremost, I need you to believe me when I say that I’m not screwing Olivia, as you so eloquently put it,” I tell Jake.

“I should punch you in the face right now!”

Called it.

“And as entertaining as it would be for my mom, my grandmother, your sister, and your girlfriend to watch you throwing down while wearing a litter of kittens on your chest, I’d prefer you didn’t hit me until you actually hear me out,” I say calmly.

“How dare you take advantage of her like that!” he rants on, clearly not hearing me.

“And how dare you turn up here on Christmas day under the guise of seeing her just to yell at me,” I retort, my blood heating. “I understand that you’re just trying to look out for her, and I appreciate that, but I’m not taking advantage of her. We’re together. For real.”

“You’re what ?” Jake spits out, eyes bugging.

“Together. And while that picture was obviously not the ideal way for you to find out, it’s true. Olivia and I are a couple. We were going to tell you after Christmas, but now you know.”

“I…” Jake narrows his eyes at me, but his fists finally unclench. “You don’t date anyone seriously.”

“There’s nobody but Olivia for me.”

“I don’t like this one bit. You better not be playing with her.”

“I’m not,” I say.

It’s entirely true. For months, I lied to myself. Told myself I’d stopped dating purely to focus on my captaincy. But I realize now that it was about so much more than just hockey.

“I care about your sister, a lot,” I tell him. “But I get that you’re not happy with me right now.”

And I do. I’m not happy with me, either.

Our relationship aside, I was idiotic enough to put Olivia in a position where we ended up getting photographed, and now said photo is pasted all over the internet.

I should’ve known better.

“I want you to give Olivia some respect and talk to her about this, too,” I continue. “She’s an adult, and she’s made a decision here as much as I have.”

Jake’s nostrils flare. “You’re going to talk to me about respect when you were hooking up with her behind my back?”

I sigh. “I already told you, that’s not what it’s like.”

To Jake’s credit, he does seem to catch himself, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. “Right. You’re together . I just… need some time to process this. You’re supposed to be my teammate. My friend. Not my little sister’s love interest, you asshole.”

“I get it.” I nod. “I’ll give you some space to process.”

“Good.”

“Guess I’ll see you in a couple of days for our game against Houston?”

“Guess so,” he mutters. He turns and goes back in the house, leaving me alone in the snow with my racing thoughts.