And grin.
Blake: I better not see you slacking tonight.
My grin widens and I send my brother a middle finger emoji.
Blake: I mean it. I’ve seen your stats, bro.
Shit-giving.
Always.
But something settles in me as I shove my phone away, stand up and follow the guys out into the hall.
I fucking love my younger brother, annoying little shit that he is.
And he’s watching too.
So yeah, we’re going to fucking win.
Three
Ky
“Where are you going?” Damon asks.
“When are you and Joey going to have a kid?” I counter as I turn back from where I’d been sneaking out of the suite.
He freezes, something like fear in the tense lines of his body, in his jaw as he turns and levels a glare over his shoulder at me. “Seriously, Ky?”
“What?”
“I’m working.”
“No, you’re glaring out at the ice.”
His scowl deepens.
“Okay at me, and at the ice.”
Narrowed blue eyes, the color a mirror of my own.
Sighing, I abandon my quest for arena popcorn (they always put extra butter on it which makes it de-lish-us) and move back to my brother. His gaze is back on the rink below, the players going through the motions of their various warm-up activities.
“I know you want to knock up that gorgeous woman of yours,” I say softly, knowing this is the wrong time to be pushing him on this.
But it’s also not the first time in the last few months I’ve seen this reaction from him.
And I’m done waiting for him to either get his head together or talk to me or Joey about it.
I’m going to help him work through his demons the same way he helped me work through mine.
Yeah? Well what about the demons that keep you up night after night?
The ones I do my best to pretend don’t exist?
Right.
I’m still pretending…that they don’t exist.
