He shakes his head. “I won’t ask that of you. And I don’t want to.”
“But Aiden, we have to keep this under wraps. It’s easier if I go to you, in your building, where people won’t recognize me.”
“Scarlett. We’re already sacrificing a lot the way it is. I can’t take you out to dinner or for a coffee. I can’t touch you in public, let alone be seen with you. But give up coming to your place? Your home? No. I will take the risk.”
“But why?”
“Because this is where your heart is. And I want to get to know it.”
Chapter Eleven
“How have you been, June Bug?”
I stare at my brother’s smiling face on Connectivity Video Connect and roll my eyes. “I keep thinking one day you won’t call me that, yet here we are.”
Jamie flashes me a huge grin. “It’s not my fault you tripped over my hockey gear, landed on your back, and curled up like a dead June bug when we were in high school.”
“If you and Ethan would ever pick up your shit, I never would have tripped and landed like a June bug,” I counter, referring to my other hockey-playing brother.
We both laugh. It’s Wednesday night, and I’m catching up with Jamie before the Manatees play Orlando. It’s eleven at night in Zurich, but only five o’clock in Miami, and we try to talk to each other at least once a week.
“Don’t worry, not only will I not forget this nickname, but I’ll also be sure to share it with your next boyfriend,” Jamie threatens.
I feel a blush heat my cheeks as I imagine him telling Aiden my nickname. Aiden would love this story. I can just pict—
“Whoa.Isthere a boyfriend?”
I blink. Jamie’s blue eyes—exactly like mine—are staring at me inquisitively.
“What? No,” I lie. And I immediately hate myself for it. I’ve never lied to Jamie. Or Ethan. We’ve always been close.
But for now? I have to protect Aiden. Even if that means lying to my brothers.
“You’re lying,” Jamie says, his stare growing more intense.
“No, I’m not,” I say, pretending to laugh.
God, now I’m reduced to fake laughing for my brother? I hate this.
Yet I’m willing to do it for a chance to date Aiden.
Now Jamie laughs. “Oh my God, that’s the fakest laugh I’ve ever heard. You ARE dating someone!”
I remain silent.
“Are you dating a soccer player?” he asks suspiciously.
“What? Date where I work? No, thank you!”
I can tell he’s biting the inside of his cheek, something Jamie has always done when he is thinking. “You’re not dating a hockey player, are you? Christ, please tell me you aren’t seeing someone on Dad’s team!”
“No!” I cry.
He stares at me. “You’re hooking up with a dude on the team, aren’t you?”
“No, I am not!”
“Who is it? What kind of player hooks up with the coach’s daughter? I can tell you what kind. A complete as—”
