“How’s Madds? Did you two leave at the same time?” I don’t see the moving truck yet, but he can’t be too far behind.
Mira rolls her big green eyes. “He’s grumpy as hell. I tried to get him to tell me what happened with Isla, but he wouldn’t talk.”
Describing my best friend asgrumpy as hellmay be an understatement. The guy broke up with the love of his life not even a week ago, and he’s wrecked. And he may not have told Mira what happened, but the doofus doesn’t even know the full story himself. I do, though. Because unlike the big, dumb idiot, I actually talked to his lady love after he overheard her talking to her ex-fiancé.
It blows my mind. The guy found real love, and he just walked away from it without fighting. But those two are meant to be. I know it, Mira knows it, and our best friends on the team, Logan Byrne and Sebastian Navarro, know it. I may have resigned myself to a life of shallow relationships, but I refuse to let Maddox do the same.
“Come on,” I say to Mira, giving her wrist a tug. “Let’s go on up so I can show you around, and I’ll tell you what I found out when I went to talk to Isla myself.”
Mira gapes at me. “You did what?”
“Your brother’s my best friend. I hate seeing him miserable.” I shrug, because it doesn’t seem like a big deal. I did what anygood friend would do. “You can help me figure out what to do about it. He’s going to want to win her back. But for now, let’s get you situated so you can rest.”
I text the guys, telling them they can head over, as we walk into my building. It’s a nice place in the heart of Minneapolis. There are restaurants and bars nearby, plenty of things to do and places to meet people. I have a sweet spot with lounge chairs and a grill on the roof—I call itthe backyard—and the building has solid security. Which means I can relax and not worry about paparazzi or crazed fans showing up at my door. Not that I think it’s likely, but people are weird about professional athletes.
And as much as I hate hurting anyone, there’s always the possibility that a bunny will get it into her head that we’re meant to be. If that happens, I have Ed as a first line of defense.
Mira and I stride across the dark marble floors of the lobby toward the security desk, where I introduce Mira to Ed. I make sure he and the other security guys know she’s living here now and to look out for her.
“Welcome to the building, Miss Mira,” Ed says with a wide smile. He’s a cool guy. In his early fifties, retired military, and a huge Rogues fan. He and the other guards take extra care looking out for me because I make sure they get jerseys and a few tickets to our games each season. “Let us know if you ever need anything, okay?”
Mira returns Ed’s smile and thanks him. Then we get in the elevator and I push the button for the top floor.
“Oooh, top floor,” she teases. “Fancy.”
“It’s no fancier than your brother’s,” I say. But it is pretty posh. I’m the first-line left winger on a successful NHL team. And I’ve been playing long enough to have a cushy contract and plenty of endorsement deals. I don’t blow my money on dumb stuff, so yeah, I own a nice apartment in a safe building. There’sno point in buying a big old house in the suburbs when it’s just me.
Mira whistles when I let her in. I try to look at my apartment through her eyes. Gleaming hardwood floors, huge walls of windows, and a large, open-plan living room that flows into a modern, tricked-out kitchen. I keep things tidy, and I had the place professionally decorated, so it doesn’t look like some college bachelor pad.
“Wow, Griff. Do you ever use that kitchen?” Her eyes sparkle as she looks over her shoulder at me.
I shrug. “I dabble.”
I actually love to cook. Since it’s just me, I don’t do it as often as I’d like, but I’m decent at it. Maybe with Mira here, I’ll have an excuse to cook more often.
“Come on, let me show you your room.”
Mira follows me down the hall. There are two doors across from each other. The door on the left is my bedroom, so I push the one on the right open and usher her in with a flourish of my arm. She makes a little gasping sound when she takes it all in.
Madds told me she’d gotten rid of her bed when she moved in with her stupid ex-boyfriend, so I had my interior designer purchase bedroom furniture for her and paint the room a rich teal. It’s got a modern bohemian vibe that I thought suited Mira perfectly. Besides the queen-sized bed and end tables, there’s a desk in the corner where she can work on her business, a mustard-yellow velvet armchair, and an upholstered ottoman at the foot of the bed. A door on the far wall leads to her en-suite bathroom.
I may have gone a little overboard with the decorator because I’m not sure Mira’s planning to live here long, but the room’s been sitting empty and undecorated since I bought the place. Might as well make it into a room Mira’s comfortable in.
“Holy shit, Griffin. Did you do all this?” She spins around, her mouth open as her attention darts from detail to detail.
“Nah. I paid someone to do it. I’m great on the ice but shit with decorating.” I give her a wink when she focuses her attention on me.
“I don’t even know what to say.” Her voice comes out breathy and filled with emotion, and I have to tell my rogue dick to chill the fuck out because this is Maddox’s sister and my friend. We can’t be thinking about how she’d sound gasping my name at the height of an orgasm.
“Just say you like it, and I’ll be happy,” I reply honestly.
“I love it.” Mira closes the distance between us and throws her arms around me in an enthusiastic hug. “Thanks, Wright.”
“Don’t mention it, Lil’ Gravesy.” I give her a squeeze, then pull away. “Let’s go back down and start getting things out of your car. The guys should be here soon, and I doubt Maddox is too far away by now.”
“You going to tell him about Isla?” Mira asks.
I nod. “Yep. Gotta set him straight.”
