Not a burden, not an object to be looked after, but a real functioning human.
I spent too long being the opposite.
“What are you cooking?” I ask.
“Pizza,” he says after a moment.
“Barbecue chicken?”
“With olives.” His voice is filled with an affection that cups itself around my heart. Yup. I seriously love my big brother. Especially when he adds, “because my freak of a sister likes the disgusting black circles.”
“Damon,” I say with false affront. “They’re not disgusting. They’re deliciousness in a tiny mouthful.”
“Lies.”
“Just because you don’t have a sophisticated palate…”
“Is that what we’re calling your consumption of copious processed snacks and champagne now?”
“Don’t forget popcorn.” I slurp. “With extra butter.”
He laughs again and I can almost see him shaking his head.
“Damon?”
“Yeah, kid?”
“I’ll be over in twenty.”
Then I shift the car into reverse…and ignore that the past lurking is at the edges of my mind, just waiting for my defenses to falter.
Same as I ignore that it’ll never truly go away.
Two
Colt
“Siiiiix. Seven.”
Lake Jordan, the captain of the Sierra, curses from where he sits next to me. “It’s come for us.”
His reply is almost drowned out by the sound of the rookies who’ve joined the roster for this season bursting into laughter.
“I don’t understand kids these days,” I mutter.
“Tell me about it.” He bumps my skate with his. “We’re getting old.”
“Older, maybe.”
Lake is at the prime of his career—with the points to prove it. He’s strong and fast, an incredible goal-scorer and my first emotion upon learning that I was traded to the Sierra was relief.
That I wouldn’t have to chase Lake around the ice any longer.
He flashes me a grin that’s graced many a billboard and magazine ad. “I knew I liked you.”
“But I’m still your favorite, right?” Knox says.
“Depends.” Lake starts taping his socks.
