I closed my eyes, hoping she’d get the hint. “Nineteen, obviously.”
“Then stop acting like you’re on the last five years of your life, champ.” She got up, went to her room, and came back with a strip of tape. She put our list on the fridge and placed her hands on her hips, nodding at it. “Alright. You got a month’s rent, and we got the rules covered, anything else?”
“Michael.”
God, the thought of him learning his sister lived with me—I cringed. He was protective of her, and hell, I would be too after their parents died in an awful car accident. We all knew his story, and while I was aware of his sister, I hadn’t paid attention to her. Helping my dad, getting good grades, and playing hockey were all I had time for, certainly not blonde girls with large smiles who caused my left eye to twitch.
My roommate tapped one foot on the ground, assessing me with a silent glare.
After twenty seconds of it, I had it. “What?”
“Are you scared of your senior leader, Mr. Surly and Focused? Surprises me, that’s all. You seem to have the resting grouch face going perfectly, and Michael is a fluff ball on the inside.”
Not on the ice. Not when it comes to his sister.“He’s protective of you.”
“No shit.” She laughed for a beat before shaking her head as she walked into her room. She smelled like coffee, not a bad scent, and I gritted my teeth picturing all the perfume she probably had in her bathroom. I did not want this place getting all florally and shit.
But I wasn’t a total idiot and could bring that up another day.
“Your brother. I need to tell him now. This can’t be a secret.”
“No,” she fired back, retreating into the kitchen again. All the confidence and playfulness evaporated off her face, and her eyes hardened. “I will tell him when I am ready. Not you. Certainly not you.”
“He’s an alternate captain, Ryann,” I said, hating how the name really suited her. “I won’t keep this from him. It could change the team dynamic, and I can’t have that.”
“How would us rooming together for a semester change the dynamic? We’re not dating, andcertainlynot hooking up,” she said, laughing to the point I felt insulted. “I will abide by your rules, but please, don’t tell Michael until I get some things sorted out.”
“You want me tolie?” My voice got all high, and my adrenaline spiked.
“I want you to keep quiet. Surely you can manage that for a few days? You don’t strike me as a small talk type of guy. I’m not asking for more than that.”
Damn it. Ryann’s face was expressive, like an open book, and I swore I felt every emotion she went through. Desperate, determined, worried. My gut told me hiding the truth was a bad idea, yet I nodded. “Fine.Oneweek. That’s it.”
“Thank you,” she said, sighing so loud her relief was almost palpable. “I’ll get my shit sorted, hopefully starting tomorrow.” With that, she went into her room and shut the door. She didn’t come out the rest of the night.
It was not my ideal Sunday evening, wondering what the hell she was doing and why the hell I cared. But money was in my account, and for at least one month, I didn’t have to worry about my finances.
* * *
Monday morning workouts were my favorite. Most people grunted and complained at the gym, but I was in my element. Pushing my muscles, getting stronger, quicker… it all showed on the ice, and physically exerting energy filled me with a sense of purpose for the rest of the day when my body burned from a workout. Sweat dripped down my face after I finished running sprints, and I grabbed a towel to wipe it off.
“J.D., good weekend?”
Michael Reiner, the brother of my damn roommate, smiled at me as he grabbed a towel too and draped it over his neck. Apart from the same eye color, I couldn’t find a single shared trait with Ryann. The twins, Patrick and Paxton, were with him and talking shit about something, and my stomach filled with lead.
Damn.
My throat seemed to close up, and I nodded at him. “Yeah. You?”
“Got a little carried away at a party Saturday but burned off the hangover yesterday. When are you going to come to a party at the house, man? Don’t you want to have fun before the season starts?”
God, I needed water. I shrugged and went over to the fountain, taking my time wetting my throat.
He waited for me with an expectant look on his face. “You can’t spend all your time here and on the ice. Trust me. Have an outlet. Get laid. Get drunk.”
“Right,” I said, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. Guilt ate at me, making my words choppy and short. If he knew Ryann was atmyplace, he wouldn’t be offering to have me hang out at the hockey house. Jesus. That was for damn sure. Flashes of his infuriated face last year when a guy on the team said his sister was hot popped in my mind, mocking me.
I wiped my face with the towel, attempting to act normal. He mentioned an outlet. Okay, small talk. “Uh, what’s your escape then?”
