“I think it’s still good,” I say. “Even if it’s not, that stuff never goes bad.” I stand and grab us forks and knives from the drawer, then open the fridge. “I have beer…oh, wait, I think I have a bottle of wine around here somewhere.” Tabatha likes wine, so I always try to keep a few bottles on hand for her. She doesn’t visit much, being on the East Coast, but when she does come, I try to have everything for her. I miss her like fuck, but she’s better off on the other side of the country, away from our bastard of a father.
I know she’s grown up, but I don’t want the old man to have any kind of influence or hold anything over her. He pissed his money away on the bottle, and I don’t want him going to Tabby for money. What she has is hers, and no way will I let him guilt her into giving him a dime.
That doesn’t mean he’s on the streets starving. He’s got a pension coming in, and I take care of medical bills when they come up. Yeah, he was a fucking bastard, and I should have walked away, never to look back, but I guess I just don’t have that in me.
Maybe Nina and I are more alike than I realized. She says she doesn’t like me, but she stayed to help.
Then again, she does want something from me. Story of my fucking life, right?
“Beer is fine, actually.”
I grab two bottles, crack them and pour hers into a glass. “A girl after my own heart.”
“I like something cold when it’s hot out. I can’t believe this crazy heat wave we’re having. But it’s not hot in here.”
“Air conditioning. If it’s too cold, I can turn it down.”
“No, I’m okay,” she says, and sits down. I slide into the seat beside her and shift closer.
“Here, steal some of my body heat,” I say, as I press my outer thigh against hers. She visibly shivers, but I don’t think it’s from the cold.
What the fuck is going on between us? Well, I know what’s wrong with me. I’ve always crushed on my best friend’s sister, but up until yesterday, she’d always treated me like I was something that needed to be scraped off the bottom of her boot.
I cut into my steak and she does the same. “Damn, this is good. Best steak I ever had.”
“I doubt that.”
I turn to her, only to see her sliding her fork into her mouth. Oh, fuck. My dick flinches. Down boy. I curse under my breath and wait for my
erection to shrink, but the damn thing has a mind of its own. And Jesus Christ, does she have to moan like that? She’s eating steak, not having sex.
“Good, huh?” I manage to get out.
“Really good.” She takes a sip of beer and turns her attention back to the television.
If hockey is the most important thing in my life, then why am I watching sweet little Nina, and the way her lips pucker when she drinks, instead of the game that could very well determine if our team makes it to the playoffs?
5
Nina
When the game finishes and Illinois wins, I put my notepad down and glance at Cole, who is snarling at the TV. His hair is a mess from running his fingers through it, and the overhead light glistens in his green eyes as they narrow. I can almost hear the wheels in his brain turning as he considers the playoffs, and going up against his nemesis. But he shouldn’t be thinking so hard in his conditions.
I touch his arm and drag his attention to me. “You okay?”
His face softens, making him look younger, boyish, the tough kid from my youth. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“So that’s your happy face?”
His grin is slow. “Yeah, fingers crossed we make it to the playoffs, and I get to go one on one with Burns.”
I have an instant tightening in my gut at that. “What if he hurts you again?” Too many concussions can be detrimental in the long run, and I’d hate to see Cole have any kind of permanent damage.
He links his fingers and cracks them. I cringe at the sound, and he gives me an apologetic look. When we were young, I always glared at him when he did that, but he never apologized or even pretended to be sorry.
“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
“It’s kind of a barbaric sport, don’t you think?”