Sparkling Hope (The Eastburgh Devils Series Book 1)
Sparkling Hope: Chapter 2

I slammed the trunk door of my dark green Jeep shut, from which I removed my training bag and jacket.

I locked my car before running up the steep driveway with my belongings, the key already clutched in my hand, to get into the house.

A moment later, I gave the front door a nudge with my foot, and a kinky smell hit me.

A mix of candles with a vanilla smell and dinner.

Disgusting.

I hated Camilla’s candle addiction. Everywhere, in every goddamn room of this house, were at least two candles, and they all smelled like vanilla.

Even in my bathroom, there was a candle. But I put that candle in the drawer between my towels.

I don’t need crappy candles that smell like vanilla.

There were still two suitcases in the entryway and a small basket of laundry inside, which made me wonder.

Had my prayers been answered, and Camilla was moving out?

After setting my sports bag on the floor, I called into the living area. ‘Who’s finally moving out?’

I refrained from adding my stepmother’s name since I would not mind if she moved out.

I would throw her stinking candles, as well as incense sticks, after her.

‘Who would you prefer?’ smiled Camilla at my question as she placed plates on the round dining table.

The problem was there were too many plates.

So she’s not moving out.

More like two moved in with us.

‘Dad and you?’

I glanced around the corner and saw a brown-haired woman with a bob haircut behind the kitchen counter, cleaning the fogged glasses on her wool sweater.

So that was the person who moved in.

I wouldn’t be surprised if my asshole of a father and stepmother had kept this from me.

When do I ever get integrated into family affairs?

Just as rarely as I don’t sleep with a girl in a month. So never.

‘Save any comments, Weston,’ Camilla murmured softly as she walked past me, placing wine glasses before the plates.

‘This is Ruby. She will stay with us for a few weeks until your father finishes renovating her house.’

Not a cook, as I first thought.

Too bad because Camilla almost burned down the house. While cooking.

I smiled at Ruby, who placed her clean glasses frame on the bridge of her nose.

She took off her protective gloves, placed them next to the stove on which three pots were simmering away, and approached me with open arms.

‘Nice to finally meet you. I hear so much about you in this little town, and Camilla talks about you in a big way.’

I hesitantly returned the hug because I’d never heard my stepmother talk about me in a big way.

I broke away from her embrace. ‘I hope only good.’

‘So you’re going to follow in your father’s footsteps, huh?’

Of course, Camilla was talking about it.

My plan had always been to eventually play for a National Hockey League Team and turn my passion for ice hockey into a career.

My best friend Carter and I have been raving about this dream since we were freshmen in high school.

Dad has never really been sold on this plan.

I self-funded my ice hockey equipment in high school until I signed the contract at my college, and now the equipment is sponsored.

Charles’ father was a lot different.

My teammate Charles already had a contract with the New York Islanders. His Dad, Theodore Whitfield, was an ice hockey player through and through.

This man has made history.

Four goals in two minutes.

I wish my Dad would support me like Mr. Whitfield supported his son.

My father thought that ice hockey was an unnecessary waste of time and that I should instead concentrate on something actual, manual.

According to him, I should take over his construction company, which he inherited from his Dad.

I will never do this, only over my dead body.

I didn’t quite know what to answer without making my Dad, let alone me, look stupid. ‘I don’t know.’

My Dad announced his presence as he dropped the front door into the lock with a loud bang and tossed his keys into the porcelain bowl on the dresser in the entryway.

Right now, I’m reluctant to run into him because my Dad immediately brings up the ice hockey topic when he sees my training bag.

Then he would hold it against me again, and what I would create everything in the time if I didn’t play ice hockey.

‘I’ll be upstairs,’ I announced, and with my things, I strutted slowly up the stairs, listening to my father greet Ruby.

It still amazed me how Ruby put up with Camilla as a friend for so long and volunteered to live with us.

‘Wes, there’s someone upstairs. Please be kind,’ she called up the stairs.

Probably Ruby’s husband.

‘Yes, yes,’ I turned my back to the two of them, lifted my bag off the floor, and ran up the stairs.

Besides, I hated it when she pretended we had a super, great, stable stepmother-son relationship in front of her visitor or a roommate.

Which was absolutely not the case.

This family was and will forever be messed up.

I wanted my Dad to see me and notice me and get some support for my passion, but that didn’t happen.

Once I arrived in my room, I felt the cool air spreading across my skin like goosebumps. I flicked on the small light on my nightstand and placed my bag on my leather sofa.

My clothes quickly found their way to the floor, and with boxers on, I walked towards the door leading to my bathroom.

‘Holy shit!’ shrieked a girl wearing a light blue towel that was so tight around her body that her boobs almost burst out on top.

No husband.

A nice view instead.

‘Hey!’ She snapped me out of my thoughts, and I stared into her eyes.

They were the most beautiful hazel eyes I had ever looked into.

It rattled behind my forehead, and it clicked as I looked at her.

That thick brown, long hair that now looked almost black and relatively thin from the wetness was the hair that was covered in a tacky cap and covered my gaze to the blonde a few months ago.

This girl was standing half-naked in my bathroom, taking a shower.

‘You’re the one with the tacky hat.’

She furrowed her brow. ‘I’m sorry, who?’

‘You’re the girl who blocked the view of my girl with your ugly, tacky hat,’ I argued.

I remembered individual memories from the evening.

Among them, the blonde, who later introduced herself as Amber, rode my dick in the bathroom at Sigma Devils.

Amber was great.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t peek at you,’ I spoke, and she adjusted her towel.

She left the bathroom without comment, and as she passed, she turned off the light and slammed the door.

This girl looked like trouble, and trouble never looked so damn fine.