You Again (The Elmwood Stories #1) Read Online Lane Hayes

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: The Elmwood Stories Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
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Mary-Kate giggled at his over-the-top performance. “I do. It’s too dangerous.”

“Well…okay,” he conceded. “It can be a little dangerous, but so is walking down the street. It’s a wacky world out there, MK. You gotta be a fighter. Please tell me you know how to skate.”

Her ear-to-ear grin split her cheeks in two. “Yes. Who’s MK?”

Vinnie pointed at her. “You, smartie pants. If you skate, you can play. Do you have a girls’ team here?”

Ronnie plucked his daughter out of the hammock and drew her to his side, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Our Pee Wee league is co-ed and—”

“The boys are too rough,” Mary-Kate intercepted. “Tyler Adams pushed me and almost split my eyeballs open. That was the last straw for me.”

“Oh, man, that’s when it gets fun. I hope you popped him one,” Vinnie said.

“I couldn’t. I was gushing blood everywhere. Wasn’t I, Uncle Nol?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it was gory.”

“Yeah, well, if you fall off a horse, you gotta get back on it,” he advised.

“That’s what everyone says.” She spared her dad and me a meaningful glance. “But no, thanks.”

Vinnie released a comedic long-suffering sigh just as Ronnie declared it was time to say good night.

“I’ll make you deal. A real horse ride in exchange for a real hockey lesson.” Crickets. Vinnie tugged my wrist, spilling my water as he draped an arm over my shoulders. “Your uncle will help. We’re coaching together this summer, right, Nolan?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Right.” He messed up my hair, snickering when I elbowed him. “So…what do you think, MK?”

She bit her bottom lip. “No, thank you.”

“Well, the offer stands if you change your mind.”

Ronnie bent to kiss the top of his daughter’s head. “Time to say good night, peanut.”

Mary-Kate hugged me around the middle, accepting my playful noogies with grace before turning to Vinnie with her hand outstretched. “It was nice to meet you, Vinnie.”

Vinnie smiled and shook her hand, then held his up for a high five. “See you, MK.”

“Grab your book and say good-bye to Nana too,” Ronnie instructed. “Good night, guys.”

Vinnie punched his shoulder playfully. “Later, Moore.”

Ronnie chuckled and of course, retaliated, giving Vinnie an enthusiastic shove. I sidestepped the overly friendly gesture and toppled into the hammock.

I expected Vinnie to follow my brother inside, but after another round of bro fist bumps, Vinnie flopped onto the hammock with me instead, upending my water and sloshing it all over my shirt. I flailed like a fish on dry land as I struggled to sit up.

Vinnie stood abruptly, either to escape my flailing or because his prank meter was running and he sensed he could do a little more damage. The unexpected flurry of motion fucked with my precarious balancing act. In my quest to steady myself, I misjudged my position on the hammock, flipped backward, and landed flat on my ass…with water dripping from my nose and my eyelashes and soaking my shirt.

I sputtered and coughed as I sat up, glaring at the asshole hooting with laughter above me. “Damn it, Vinnie.”

“Looks like you took a bath. Need a hand?”

“No, I’m fine,” I grumbled.

“Take my hand, Nolan,” Vinnie insisted, crouching slightly.

I stifled a groan and let him help me to my feet. “You’re going to tell me that was an accident, huh?”

“Gotta be prepared for anything, man.”

I peeled my shirt from my chest, then squeezed out the excess moisture. “Good thing I’m close to home. Here. Hold this.”

I handed him my water bottle and unbuttoned my shirt. Vinnie was curiously quiet for a moment. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was sizing me up. I was vain enough to be glad I made good use of the weights and treadmill in my garage.

“Where do you live?” he rasped, taking a swig of beer.

“I bought the Mansers’ old house on Birch. I probably have a T-shirt in my old room, though.” I gave him a faux dirty look as I plucked my empty water bottle from his fingers.

“I’ll head inside with you and thank your mom before I go.”

We moved silently down the grassy slope to the house and found Mom and Margaret chattering away as they washed dishes. Vinnie was treated to motherly hugs and general fawning, but he was a good sport about it.

“I’ll leave you to catch up. I need to change.” I held up the wet shirt bunched in my fist for proof.

“What happened?” Mom asked.

“Vinnie happened,” I huffed without heat.

“Don’t be rude, Nolan. I’m sure it was an accident.” Mom reached for a dish towel and beamed at Vinnie. “I’ll walk you to the door, Vinnie.”

“No need. I know the way out,” he assured her.

The house I’d grown up in was a maze with well-worn rugs and white paneled walls lined with family photo collages. Mom bought a sectional sofa for the TV room, but otherwise, nothing had changed since my dad passed away.


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