Spiral (Off the Ice, #2) (19)

Sean cuts him a dangerous look, and my gaze bounces between the two of them. Sean has no idea why we broke up, but he does know I couldn’t stand Owen by the end of our relationship. “If you’re trying to get back with my sister, you have a few hockey players to go through first.”

Owen chuckles. “I’m sure I do. But I think it might be worth it.” His longing gaze freaks me out.

Sean pushes between us. “She’s dating someone.”

My head whips to him so fast it stings on the side of my neck. What the hell?

“Ever heard of Eli Westbrook?”

Oh, hell no.

Did I call him an angel? I meant the devil.

Owen harrumphs. “Yeah, right.” But when my complacent gaze meets his, he balks. “He’s serious?”

I don’t say anything because frankly, I can’t. My mind is planning ways I can get back at Sean for this. But a smaller, pettier part of me is basking in the way Owen’s face is turning an ugly shade of red.

“I have to go,” I mutter, pulling a smug Sean with me. I move toward an empty area where parents aren’t around to hear me yell at this reckless fifteen-year-old.

“Do you need medical attention?”

His smile seeps from his lips. “No?”

“Because you have to be having a stroke to tell my ex that I’m dating a professional hockey player!”

“Oh ... that.”

“Yes, that. What the hell, Sean?”

He sheepishly scratches the back of his head. “But you are.”

“Who told you that?”

“I saw it on TMZ.”

I sigh loudly, wanting to pull my hair out. “What have I told you about gossip?”

“That it’s what people who have nothing going for them do to feel better about their boring lives?”

“Exactly, so why are you looking at that stuff?” I ask. “And how? You have restricted internet access.”

He shrugs. “Loopholes.”

Crossing my arms, I give my most parental stare, and he shrinks under it.

“I’m sorry, okay! He was staring at you all weird, and you looked uncomfortable.” He sighs. “Besides, it wasn’t a lie. I saw the photo.”

Who knew a charity auction could complicate my life to this extent? Or that being rejected by a hockey player could backfire so terribly? “It was one date for a charity event. I doubt we’ll ever talk again.”

“Well, I don’t even know Eli personally, and I like him better than that Douchetron 5000.”

My serious demeanor cracks when I erupt into laughter. Parents stare, but we don’t acknowledge them.

“Come on, take me to your vice principal.”

He walks me to the snack table, and I wear my best responsible guardian face.

“Ms. Beaumont, I’ve heard lots about you,” the vice principal says.

“Good things, I hope.” When he gives me a sympathetic nod, I assume he’s been privy to the information about our family. “If you’re reading Sean’s file, I can explain the fights and behavioral issues—”

“The past is the past. I want to move forward as I transition into this role. We have not had any issues with Sean. He’s a smart and talented young man, and I suppose we have you to thank for that.”

His words melt my anxiety and prevent my overcompensating word vomit. “It’s all him. He’s a good kid.”

Sean looks pleased with the praise, and I chuckle when he grins. The vice principal informs me about the changes in curriculum since he’s taking over, and I focus on the words rather than the shadow of a dozen gazes sticking to my back. I feel a claustrophobic tightness in my lungs, and when I look at Sean, he’s glaring at them. One of the moms stares so vigilantly you’d think we were going to rob the place of their vegan hot dogs.

“Wanna get out of here?” I ask Sean as soon as the vice principal excuses himself to greet another parent. There’s a flush of relief on his face, and I’m going to spend money on an Uber I can’t afford, just to hang out with him for a few more hours. Somewhere that doesn’t have him second-guessing himself.

“Are you suggesting we sneak out?”

“It’s called an Irish goodbye. Besides, if they have a problem, they can take it up with your guardian.”

“You are my guardian.”

“Exactly.” I shrug as if I’m being spontaneous, but I’m already eyeing the sign-out board by the exit. I’m responsible for him, and I’d rather not make the school wonder where he took off to.

When I drape an arm over his shoulder, I realize that at fifteen he’s already taller than me. Pretty soon, I’ll start looking even less like a respectable adult and more like his little sister.

Sean beams and tells me a story about something that is definitely against school rules. But I make sure not to treat him like a kid, because I want him to know we can still be siblings, even if I have to fill the parental role.

“So, tell me about this date,” he says as soon as we’re inside the Uber. I’m transported back to that night, and the reminder puts a smile on my face. Sean’s teasing expression is replaced with one of pure shock. Curiosity lights his eyes, so I tell him about my date.

Well, most of it.