“Is this what I have to look forward to for the next three months? Rich boy jokes?” He circles his finger in the air between us, flashing his annoying brother smirk. “Because I don’t know if you remember this, but you also went to private school and stand to inherit the Covington-McCoy Transportation fortune.”
I try to suppress a cackle but fail. “You think we’re still in the will? Oh, Brooksy, I’ve got bad news for you. If by some miracle you weren’t already cut after you ditched business school, then it happened when that photo of you in the club came out.”
“You mean with the cocaine?” He pitches his voice to our father’s deep, obnoxious tenor. “‘This simply cannot stand, young man.’”
Humor has always been Brooks’s coping mechanism, so I join the fun, slipping into our mother’s Southern drawl. “‘Do you have any idea how badly this reflects on the Covington name?’”
He hands me my backpack as he drops my suitcase to the ground and begins rolling toward the elevator that leads to his apartment. “You had that fortune all to yourself until you chose the big D.”
My hands cover my face. “Ugh, Brooks. You know what that sounds like.”
He smiles mischievously. “‘But divorce is so undignified, Isla,’” he says in Mom’s accent.
“Whereas my preference for large cocks is not?”
Brooks plugs his ears and sings, “Lalalala.”
“You started it.”
He removes one hand from his ear to hit the button for the fifth floor, then immediately covers his ear again.
I roll my eyes. “This is dramatic even for you.”
My cheeks hurt from smiling for the first time in months, maybe longer. Brooks and I bonded out of necessity as the only two children in the Covington family, but I’m convinced we would’ve ended up with this strong friendship regardless of the need for an alliance. We’ve always had athletics in common, but more than that, Brooks brings levity to my storm-cloud existence, and I give him the loving reality check he’s always needed.
“I think we might need some ground rules.”
“Ground rules,” I repeat.
“For our living situation.”
“You mean like a chore wheel?” I brush my hair off my shoulder with a flick of my wrist. “As you well know, I’ve been living the existence of a peasant, and we peasants need to do our own chores. I’ll clean up after myself.”
Brooks unlocks the door and pushes it open, waiting for me to enter the condo first. He clears his throat, lingering in the foyer with an uncharacteristic amount of discomfort. “I didn’t mean the chores.”
“Go on.” I know full well exactly what ground rules he wants to set, but I wouldn’t be living up to my role of irritating younger sister if I didn’t force him to say it.
He scratches the back of his neck, a tinge of pink entering his cheeks. “Just give me warning, all right? I’ll crash with Davis.” Carter Davis, one of my brother’s hottest friends, won an NCAA championship with Brooks while they attended the University of Palmer City.
“You don’t need to worry about that.” I head toward the guest room. “I’m here to skate.”
I toss my backpack onto the bed and survey the room. It looks the same as it did six months ago when I snuck into town to visit after Christmas. I told my parents that I had work commitments to avoid an uncomfortable dinner with my ex-husband, who I knew would be invited to our family Christmas. Watching him make sad puppy-dog eyes at me, after he never supported my career and tried to pressure me into starting a family, wasn’t something I’d endure again.
“And your new skating partner knows this?” Brooks grips the top of the open doorway.
“Yes.” I do my best to conceal my annoyance. He wants to protect me from repeating the situation with my last skating partner which almost ended my career. He also doesn’t get the opportunity to play the big brother card often. “I told Spencer what happened with Sebastian before I agreed to come here, and he assured me that any boundaries I set would be respected. Besides, he’s in a relationship.”
Brooks opens his mouth, but I hold up my hands. “I know what you’re going to say, but Spencer is friends with Maggie. She said I can trust him, and I believe her. And I can take care of myself.”
Athlala sponsored me after Sebastian and I won gold at Nationals a year and a half ago. It was a dream come true to have their support financially, but they also connected me to two incredible athletes, Maggie and Blair, who have become my closest friends. I’m thankful I found them. It was harder to find friends within my sport, with us competing against each other for everything—medals, sponsorships, fans.
“I know, but you shouldn’t have to deal with that shit ever again.” He drops his arms, letting out a deep sigh. “I won’t allow it.”
I roll my eyes and laugh. “All right, all right, we all know you’re the big tough Brooks Covington and that no one will ever stand a chance against you.”
He gives me a playful shove. “I’m serious, Isla. I’ve got your back, okay?”
I smile softly at him. “You always have.”
