I ordered the usual—an Amber Bach for myself, a lighter lager for Sydney, and a mojito for Stasia. Some things in life were unpredictable, but this wasn’t one of them. There was a strange comfort in the routine of it. The drinks, our team’s little tradition, were a constant in a world that had shifted more times than I cared to count. They were one of the few things that didn’t change, no matter how much everything else did.
My sisters accepted their drinks with exaggerated thanks. They looked like they needed them just as much as I did. The Sharks were struggling this season, beaten down by injuries, and it showed on the ice.
But me… Well, I had different reasons for seeking oblivion tonight.
It was still new, the three of us sharing a drink. The three of us together, no parents in sight. Our family had never quite fit the traditional mold. Our parents had split when I was eighteen, and afterward, it felt like my sisters vanished into their own worlds, leaving Sydney and me to carry on with our broken, imperfect lives. For years, it was just the two of us—two siblings navigating the wreckage of our parents' divorce, and somehow, surviving.
Then came the Thanksgiving disaster, a catalyst we never saw coming. We’d cut ties with our parents entirely after that, but we had Stasia back now, and even if it felt a little awkward, it also felt like something we’d all been waiting for.
Stasia broke the silence, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “This is strange, huh?”
I shrugged, letting the amber liquid burn its way down my throat, letting it numb me for just a moment.
Sydney, ever the chatterbox, let out a nervous laugh. “Not really. Why would it be weird? It’s not like we haven’t talked to you for years or, you know, abandoned you. Oh wait… that was you.” She winked at Stasia, her teasing tone a cover for the unease that was lingering underneath.
I knew she was joking. Sydney and Stasia had spent a lot of time working through their past now that they were both working for the same NHL team. Still, Sydney had a way of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.
“God, where is Ryder when I need someone to shut me up?” Sydney muttered, running a hand through her messy hair, her face flushed. “But really, none of this should be weird. We’re siblings. We should hang out. Even if Kristenhates us. Even if I’m now a nepo baby because of you. Even if Teddy is—well,Teddy—sleeping with his coach.”
The world seemed to freeze in that moment.
Stasia's eyes shot wide, a mix of surprise and accusation. Sydney snapped her mouth shut, her lips pressed tight as if to hold back something she might regret. Damn it, Ryder. Couldn’t keep that one to himself, could he?
"I need to piss." I stood up abruptly, pushing my chair back so it skidded on the floor, the scrape cutting through the tension. I stalked toward the dark hallway at the back of the bar that led to the unisex bathrooms, hoping for a moment of solitude.
Before I could reach them, though, I collided with someone. Cold liquid splashed across my shirt, and instinctively, I reached out to steady her, my hands clamping on to strong, firm shoulders. I looked down and saw an unsteady Frankie, her eyes slightly glassy.
“Coach,” I muttered, my grip sliding from her shoulders to her arms, trying to steady her as much as myself.
“Valentine,” she slurred, her voice thick with something more than just alcohol. The haze in her eyes, the lopsided grin on her lips… She was well past tipsy. “You’re big.” One hand drifted up and patted my stomach, her fingers pressing into me like she had all the time in the world. Then, she started petting me, like I was some kind of—what? A giant stuffed animal?
God, I couldn’t help it. I liked it. No, Ilovedthe way her fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt, the way she seemed to savor every inch of me under her touch.
I tore my gaze away, glancing over my shoulder at the table of my sisters. “This is a bad idea.”
Frankie just swayed back on her heels, her smile never fading. “Don’t care.”
I cursed under my breath and gently pushed her toward the bathrooms. “Will you stay right here until I’m done?”
Her eyes flickered with a lazy agreement. “Mhm.”
“I mean it, Frankie. Don’t go anywhere.” I could feel my heart speeding up a little, that familiar adrenaline that never came with anything good. I left her leaning against the wall, the warmth of her body still imprinted on my hands as I turned away.
When I returned, though, she was gone.
I didn’t have to search long. She was at the bar, throwing back what looked like a shot of whiskey. Her voice was a little too loud as she chatted with the bartender, a guy I didn’t recognize.
“And the asshole still thinks I’ll marry him,” she was saying, her words slurred but sharp.
I froze, a chill creeping through me.
She leaned in closer to the bartender, her voice dropping low. “But if I want to save my career, I might have to.” The words hit me harder than I expected, like a weight pressing down on my chest.
I didn’t like it. Whatever she was talking about, I didn’t think it was something she wanted anyone to hear. Ryder and some of the other guys had joined my sisters at the table. His arm around Sydney’s shoulder didn’t faze me anymore—I trusted him with my life—but the others? I loved them but it wasn’t the same.
I moved closer to the bar, sidling up so that I was between Frankie and her shot. Without a word, I slid it out of her reach, placing my hand over the glass.
“Hey!” she protested, her hand darting out to grab it.
