[18+] ENEMIES TO LOVERS SPORTS ROMANCE
She can't stand the school's golden boy, but when fate keeps throwing them together, their rivalry starts to look a lot like chemistry-and suddenly they're not playing the game they thought they were.
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Hannah
Dinner with my mother always came with a headache. It only happened once a month—if I could help it—but it was a great reminder of why I opted not to live at home and attend the local Christian college as she'd originally hoped. Staying two hours away sometimes meant I could make up an excuse not to come, like studying for a test or feeling sick—but that didn't always work.
Take yesterday, for instance. I told her my car was broken, only to have her offer to drive down and pick me up. I quickly backpedaled and said I'd get it to a mechanic that afternoon, even though my car was perfectly fine. I was not going to put myself through a combined four-hour drive with her. There were better ways to torture myself—like waterboarding or setting myself on fire.
"I worry so much about you living in that awful house. It's falling apart," she said, doling out a modest scoop of mashed potatoes onto my plate. I was more than capable of serving myself, but she hated giving up control over my portion sizes.
Tonight, my mother was dressed in a peach colored cardigan, paired with ankle-length khaki pants and sensible white flats. Her mostly gray hair was pulled back tight in its usual neat bun, and she wasn't wearing any makeup except for a transparent lip balm, which was probably some natural lip something her church friends had gifted or sold to her. And, of course, around her neck was her silver cross, gleaming under the chandelier's light.
"But at least," she added with a sigh, "you don't have any male roommates. That's the only thing that helps me sleep at night."
Sure it wasn't all those sleeping pills?
I looked at my modest plate and then at the huge mound of food on my brother's plate, saying nothing. I wasn't about to land myself in another lecture about my weight or manners.
"Of course," she continued breezily, as if we were discussing the weather, "a male-free lease doesn't guarantee you're keeping yourself above reproach." She tapped the serving spoon against the bowl, lips pursed in that familiar, tight smile. "I made my peace a long time ago with the fact that you gave away certain... privileges meant to be enjoyed by your future husband. We can't go back in time, can we?"
Heat crawled up the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down. If I opened my mouth, even to breathe, I would ignite World War III. I didn't have the desire or motivation to have this fight for the thousandth time.
"Mom," my brother cut in sharply, staring at her. "Stop."
The look in her eyes as he defended me promised retribution. She drew in a shallow breath, face going red as she prepared to deliver another sanctimonious dagger—but I interrupted before she could wind herself up.
"How about," I said quickly, forcing my voice to stay level, "we just have a peaceful dinner? Like a normal family?"
She sniffed, lifted her chin, and glided into her seat with the grace of a queen. "Well," she said, smoothing her napkin over her lap, "I'm certainly trying." A polite clearing of her throat. "Shall we say grace? Jason." She reached for Jace's hand without looking at me.
