“And we checked the thickness with an ice screw before setting up,” Sydney continues, though her lack of eye contact tells me they half-assed it.
I make a noncommittal sound in my throat—my caveman way of saying “bullshit.” “The next time you report from here, call me first. I’m staying at the house now.”
Sydney laughs without humor. “Okay, then. Should I have your personal assistant set up a meeting? Or maybe go through your agent? Or would you prefer I just text you? Oh wait, you never respond.”
“You texted me?”
“Yes, about Maisie’s appointments.” She shakes her head, turning away. “I don’t know why I expected anything different from you. You’ve been an asshole since birth. Probably even in the womb.”
The heat of her remark makes me flinch. I’m not used to people speaking to me like that. Most people tiptoe around The King, careful not to offend the hometown hockey hero.
“I didn’t get a text from you, Syd. I would’ve answered it. Look, I’m not—” I stop, because what am I supposed to say? That I’mnotan asshole? We both know that’s a lie.
With a deep sigh, I shake my head. “I’ve had a rough morning.”
“Join the club. Great talk as always, Brooks. Your eloquence is inspiring.”
My jaw clenches because,man, this woman knows how to get under my skin.
Behind me, the van’s engine starts. Kermit’s leaving without Sydney, and I realize her car is here. Dammit, I wanther gone, but even if she were, I know her needling isn’t over. Not with her brother, my best friend, coming home this weekend.
That reminds me. “When does Jonah get into town?” Maybe talking about the one person we both care about will ease some of the tension. The one person besides Meema and my parents who knows what’s really going on with me.
“Friday evening.” She wraps her arms around herself, shivering beneath the layers she’s wearing. “For the party.”
I tilt my head. “What party?”
Her face drops, then it twists into a glare as she faces me. “We’re havingyourgrandmother’s 70th birthday party at my parent’s house this Saturday. I assumed you knew that.”
No, I didn’t know.
Shit.I am a grade-A asshole.
“Is that an invitation?” I’m fighting like hell to keep up this breezy facade even though I feel like a dickhead.
“It wasn’t, but Maisie would want you there.” She turns and heads toward the house. “Five o’clock. Don’t be late,” she says over her shoulder.
“Where are you going?” I call after her.
She groans. “To say hi to Maisie. If that’s okay with you, warden?”
I push off the ice, gliding after her. “I dunno. I want to make sure she rests.”
Sydney spins around, eyebrows high. “Really? Looking out for her—good. Does that mean you’re going to take care of her while you’re here?”
The question catches me off guard. A flash of worry cuts through me—does Meema need round-the-clock care now? I just got into town last night, and although I was shocked at how thin and frail she looked, she still seemed able to doeverything independently. “Of course,” I respond automatically.
“Great,” she mutters. “What are the days and times of her chemo appointments?”
I have no idea.Dammit.
Meema and I talk on the phone every day, but she refuses to tell me anything about her treatment. Instead, she talks about how nice Sydney has grown up to be and how she’s single and ambitious, and wouldn’t I like to get to know her better?
No, I absolutely would not.
For multiple reasons, but the main one being my vow to Jonah.I’ll never go near Syd.
Especially not with the way my heart rate kicked up and my body froze when her eyes met mine across the ice. She’s dangerous—the smoking hot girl-next-door, settling down kind of woman—the kind I avoid. And with her, it’s infinitely worse because of Jonah.
