“It was only one day.” He plays it off, but I catch the heat creeping up his ears. “There was a girl in my language arts class who was nice. She shared her notes with me so I could catch up.”
A girl? And not just any girl, one who’s making Reed’s ears turn pink? I want to give him so much shit, but if I do, he’ll never confide in me again. So I do my best to shrug off my big sister hat and put on a mom hat instead. “Oh yeah? That’s cool. What’s her name?”
“Cassidy. Don’t be weird.” He shakes his head as he pops open a jar of spaghetti sauce and pours it into a pan.
“What? I’m not being weird. I just asked her name.”
“It’s how you said it. You got all high-pitched. And your eyebrows did that thing they do when you’re trying not to make a big deal about something, but you really want to.” Thirteen-year-old boys shouldn’t be allowed to be this perceptive.
“I did not do athingwith my eyebrows.” I probably did. I’m pretty sure I’m still doing it.
Reed chuckles, and I’m struck by the way the sound seems lower than it did even a month or two ago. My little brother is a teenager now, and he’s quickly turning into a man. It makes my heart clench with a sudden pang of sadness that my parents will never get to see this version of Reed. This tall, lanky teenager with a deepening voice and a tender heart he hides behind eye rolls and swearing. What I wouldn’t give to be able to ask my dad for advice on how to be there for a teenage boy. I’m so worried I won’t be enough for Reed. That I’ll let him down when he needs me. A lump forms in my throat, and tears well in my eyes.
“What’s happening right now?” he asks.
Crossing the kitchen, I wrap him in a tight hug. “Mom and Dad would have loved the man you’re becoming, Reed Sherman. I want you to know that.”
My little brother is quiet and stiff for a beat, then I feel the gust of his breath as he releases it. “Thanks, Blair-Bear. They’d be pretty proud of you too. Even if you are weird sometimes.”
I let out a watery laugh and hold Reed even tighter for a few more seconds. Any longer than that, and I risk his teenage wrath. He won’t look me in the eye when we break apart, but that’s okay. It gives me a moment to compose myself as I grab a salad kit out of the fridge and throw it together.
“So tell me everything about your day,” I say as we move in tandem around the kitchen. Reed drains the noodles, I dress thesalad, and some of the tightness in my chest eases as he tells me about his new teachers, the kids he met, and how different it all was compared to his school in LA. It’s a lot to adjust to, and I know it won’t always be smooth sailing, but as I listen, I feel more and more certain we’ll be able to deal with whatever comes our way.
And as Reed and I exchange the stories of our day, I don’t even have time to dwell on Logan Byrne or his sexy, angry face when I pretended not to know him. In fact, I don’t give the blond Viking more than a passing thought for the rest of the night.
Until I’m curled up under the covers in bed.
Then, not only does Logan consume my thoughts, but he sneaks into my dreams too.
I wake up a sweaty, frustrated mess.
nine
BLAIR
I makeit two weeks without running into Logan. Just long enough to be lulled into a false sense of security.
“Blair, could you do me a favor?” Tess peeks her head into my little office and flashes one of her bright smiles. The woman is a boundless ball of energy, and she always has a smile on her face. Working for her has been a dream. We’ve even gone out for lunch a few times, and I could see her becoming a friend.
“Hey. Of course. What do you need?”
Tess grins and tugs a collapsible canvas wagon in Rogues’ colors into my office. It’s filled with promotional pucks and felt pennants. “You’re the best. I’ve been meaning to take care of this all week, but something always comes up. We have that event at the community center coming up, so I need some of the players to sign this stuff. There are a few packs of Sharpies for them to use. The coach already knows you’re on your way.”
Every new word that falls from Tess’s lips pricks my heart with a little jab of anxiety. She wants me to take this down to the players. She wants me totalkto the players.
Oh, crap.
“Are you sure you don’t want Bryson to do it? Seems like he knows these guys better than I do.” It’s a weak excuse, but my brain is buzzing with panic-induced static, and it’s the best I can come up with in the moment.
Tess waves a hand at me, dismissing my concerns. “Psh. Don’t be silly. He doesn’t know them all that well. And all you need to do is bring the merch down, tell them what to do, and supervise them so they don’t end up drawing dicks on the pennants or something.”
I choke on a laugh. “They’d do that?”
“They’re hockey players,” Tess says with an impish shrug. “You’ll quickly realize that when you get all of them together, they really aren’t all that different from a herd of pre-pubescent teenage boys.” She cocks her head to the side. “Well, they’re much taller and more attractive, but not much more mature.”
“Right,” I say, giggling despite my unrelenting nerves. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I really don’t want to do this. “Are they down in the weight room?”
Tess shakes her head. “The ice. The first home game of the season is next week. Oh!” Her eyes go wide, as if she’s just remembered something. “We all get tickets. I have one for you and one for your brother. I can’t believe I almost forgot.”
