“Owen!” I hollered back with a giggle. “Jeans. T-shirt. Your boots. Pretty much exactly what you’ve got on.”
With a mock salute, he disappeared behind his door.
I hadn’t packed much that would work for tonight, but I figured I couldn’t go wrong with jeans, a white baby tee, an oversized denim jacket, and my white Nikes. I quickly touched up my makeup and pulled half of my hair up into a twist atop my head, leaving the rest straight down my back. With my fingersand lobes decorated with gold jewelry, I was as ready as I’d ever be.
After a final twirl in the mirror, a knock came at my door.
“Coming!” I yelled, rushing across the room to let Owen in.
“I’m disappointed you yelled that fully clothed with a door between us, Whiskey,” he said when he pushed inside. “I’d rather you be screaming it for different reasons.”
I blushed, dipping my head, my hair curtaining me momentarily from his view while I collected myself. He only chuckled and said, “You ready?”
“Yep!” I said, turning from him to grab my purse and phone.
“You going to tell me where we’re going yet?”
“Nope.” We moved down the hall and stepped into the elevator just as my phone dinged with an incoming message that our Uber had arrived.
As we approached our destination, I directed our driver to pull around toward the back of the building.
“Whiskey…” Owen breathed when we pulled up.
I grinned wider. “You ready for this?”
“How did you pull this off?” he asked as we got out of the car, craning his neck to marvel at the historic venue before us. “Aren’t Original Six matchups always sold out?”
“They sure are. Lucky for you, I know people,” I said with a wink, then grabbed his hand and towed him to the back security entrance of Madison Square Garden.
I happened to be scrolling through Instagram earlier when I discovered the Detroit Warriors were in town taking on the New York Lakers. Immediately, I texted Berkley Jean, formerly Daniels, asking if she was in the city. Her husband, Brent Jean,was the star of the Warriors’ team. As it turned out, she was, and she left me and Owen suite-level access passes at the door we were about to step through.
After making it through security, we were directed toward an elevator that shot us up to suite level. I’d been to Warriors’ games in Detroit before, so this sort of treatment was nothing new to me. Owen, however, Mr. Former Pro QB, had his eyes comically wide, drinking in every new sight as we stepped off the elevator and headed down the hall toward the suite.
When we pushed through the door, there was barely a heartbeat of time for me to get my bearings before someone tackled me in a hug, knocking me backward into Owen.
“Lia!” the voice squealed. A voice I knew well.
I pulled away, eyes darting across the face of my eldest sister, Chloe.
“Coco!” I squeaked in return. “What are you doing here?”
“Berkley asked if Logan and I wanted to take a weekend trip!” she said. “What areyoudoing here? Did I know you were traveling?”
I snorted. “SinceIdidn’t knowyouwere traveling, do you really need to ask that?”
“Fair enough,” my sister said with a wide grin. “God, it’s so good to see you! I feel like we haven’t talked in months.”
I rolled my eyes. Chloe, the novelist, was the queen of over-exaggerating. “We literally talk every day.”
“But not in person,” she protested. “I miss you.”
I pulled her in for another hug, squeezing her tighter. “I miss you more,” I whispered against her hair.
Behind me, a throat cleared, and I pulled away from Chloe toturn and give Owen a sheepish grin.
“Sorry, QB,” I said, moving deeper into the suite so he wasn’t standing awkwardly in the doorway. “I wasn’t expecting her to be here.”
“It’s okay, Whiskey,” he said, tone low but a wide smile on his face. He looked over my shoulder and added, “Nice to see you again, Chloe.”
