Dating and Dragons (Dungeons and Drama, #2) (14)

“I’d rather live in the basement with the spiders than sleep next to you.”

“Stop. I don’t have the energy today,” Mom warns, glaring at us in the rearview mirror.

Guilt lodges in my ribs. She does sound especially tired—I’m not sure she’s even remembered to brush her hair.

“No, we aren’t moving her into our house. That wouldn’t help, since all of our bedrooms are on the second floor and we’re trying to get her away from stairs. We’re thinking a retirement community would be good. It wasn’t a bad fall this time, but we might not be that lucky in the future.”

I snort. Grandma move into a retirement home? With her piles of stuff and social schedule? I can’t imagine her living somewhere with mashed potatoes and removable teeth.

“No way. She’ll flip when she hears,” Andrew argues.

“Actually, for once I agree with Andrew.”

“You two aren’t being supportive at all,” Mom complains. She pats Dad on the leg. “We need to be united as a family throughout this to support your father. This isn’t going to be an easy time for anyone.”

“I’m on Grandma’s side on this one. Plus, my birthday is coming up, so I have to keep my priorities in mind.” Andrew grabs his bag from the floor of the SUV. “Right up there.” He points to the sidewalk outside the recreational center where his league has their winter practices and games.

Mom pulls over with a sigh, and Andrew climbs over me.

“We aren’t finished talking about this,” Dad calls out the door. But I’m sure we are. They hardly ever make Andrew do something he doesn’t want to do. Andrew holds up a hand to say goodbye.

“Have a good practice,” Mom calls, and pulls back onto the road to take me to Kashvi’s house. We’re having our first session—which means my first livestream—and my stomach has been churning about it all day. (And yesterday, too, honestly.) But this news about Grandma has distracted me.

I lean forward so my head is between their seats. “Is Grandma actually going to be okay?”

Dad gives me a soft smile. He is Grandma’s only son and they’ve always been close, even though we didn’t see her a lot when we lived hours away.

“Yeah, she’s feeling well enough that she even went to play pickleball this morning, despite my asking her to skip it.” He gives me a good-natured eye roll. “She’s a trouper.”

“Do you think she’ll agree to move?”

“Well…not at first.” He chuckles. “She’s never been one to do anything if it wasn’t her idea. But with time, she’ll come to see it’s for the best. No more stairs, no house maintenance to worry about, and she’ll be surrounded by new friends. She’ll love it.”

I’m not as convinced. It seems pretty harsh to make Grandma move when she’s not ready. She is an adult. But it sounds like one way or another, this is happening.

A few minutes later, we arrive at Kashvi’s house. “Should I text when I’m done?” I ask.

“We promised Andrew we’d watch his games later today,” Mom says. She takes a big sip of her coffee. “He has a doubleheader. Do you think one of your new friends could drop you off?”

I push away a flash of jealousy that they’re too busy with Andrew to come pick me up. I guess if I wanted to, I could ask them to watch our livestream, but it’s terrifying enough knowing that random strangers will be watching me soon. I’d completely clam up if I knew my parents were watching as well.

“Yeah, I’m sure I can get a ride. Wish Andrew luck.”

“Okay, have fun!” Mom says with obvious relief.

I climb out and wave as they drive away. Logan walks toward me on the sidewalk but does nothing to acknowledge me other than bob his head in my direction. Ugh, so he’s sticking with the cold demeanor.

Maybe I shouldn’t let him get to me, but it irritates me that he’s switched to acting so unfriendly and aloof. How are we supposed to be a real group if he won’t even acknowledge my presence? And wasn’t he the one who said group dynamics were so important?

“Hey,” I say defiantly.

He stops and turns his focus entirely on me. It’s warmer today than the typical gray February day in Ohio, and rather than wearing a coat, Logan is wearing a blue flannel shirt over a T-shirt. The shirt is snug and does nothing to hide the definition in his arms and shoulders. His brown hair looks lighter in the sun, and it swoops just slightly over his left eye in a way that’s almost begging for me to reach out and brush it up onto his forehead.

Basically, Logan is too hot for his own good (or mine) and I should have let him ignore me.

“How are you, Quinn?” he says softly. His gaze pins me in place like I’m an insect he’s just stuck to a board for a science project.

“I’m…good. Fine.” I glare at him so he can’t guess the thoughts rolling around in my mind.

“Excited for this afternoon?”

“I am.”

“Good. So am I.”

We stand there another second, staring at each other with nothing to say, before he turns away and marches through the front door. He doesn’t bother to knock, nor does he announce himself walking into their house. It feels rude to me, but I follow him anyway. Downstairs, the others are speaking in hushed tones. A nervous energy vibrates through the room, or maybe that’s just vibrating out of me and filling the space.