“Heisnice,” I say. I turn and look in the mirror, pulling my hair out of its bun and shaking it out around my shoulders. “But I still don’t think that’s enough reason.” I turn to face her and adjust my glasses. “Better?”
She nods. “It’s annoying that you can dothatlittle effort and suddenly look like you belong on the runway.”
I roll my eyes. “Hardly.”
“You look great,” she says. “So what are you going to tell him?”
“You mean am I going to do it?”
She nods. She isn’t even trying to hide the hope in her eyes.
“No clue. What doyouthink I should do?”
She seems to consider my question. “Do you want me to answer as an objective third party? As your sister-in-law? Or as your best friend?”
I tilt my head to the side. “All three?”
“Okay. As an objective third party—definitely not. You don’t know this guy. And the legal consequences of getting caught arenotinsignificant.”
“Good. True,” I say. “That’s valid.”
“As your sister-in-law, I desperately, with my whole entire heart, want you to say yes because I cannot imagine my life without you in it.” Tears spring to her eyes as she speaks, and she groans. “This baby is making me so weepy.” She sniffs and wipes at her eyes. “What was left?”
“Your best friend answer,” I say, though honestly, that last one will be hard to override.
She’s quiet for a long moment. “As your best friend, I think I’d tell you to tread carefully. Because pretending with a man like Carter Williamson feels very risky. If you don’t want to fall for a hockey player, I’m not sure he’s the safest bet.”
I understand what she means. I liked talking to Carter. And I won’t even begin to pretend I don’t find him attractive. He’s legitimately a level of sexy I’ve never experienced before.
But I can’t have a real relationship with someone in his line of work. The thought makes my chest tighten, the familiar sensation blooming beneath my ribs and keeping my lungs from expanding all the way. For a split second, I’m at an NHL game inWinnipeg, and the walls are closing in around me. The noises, the smells, the sound of bodies crashing against the boards.
I swallow and force air into my lungs, chasing the memories away. I lift a hand, running it across my sternum. “I won’t fall for him,” I say. “You know I can’t.”
“Okay,” she says, not sounding at all convinced. “Then your best friend doesn’t have any arguments against it and would really love for you to be around.” She holds out her hand. “Ready to go talk to him?”
I shake my head no. “I can’t believe this is happening. Is this really happening?”
She shrugs and gives me a hopeful smile. “Let’s go talk to him and find out for sure.”
Carter stands as soon as we enter the living room. He looks nice, wearing tailored pants and a button-down, and I wonder if he made more of an effort just for this—for our conversation.
Olive and Poppy are stretched out on the floor with an iPad, playing some sort of matching game, but as soon as Olive sees me, she runs over and holds up her arms, asking to be picked up.
I scoop her into my arms, suddenly grateful for her grounding presence.
“Hi, Sarah,” Carter says. I like that he uses my name.
Wordlessly, Anna takes Olive out of my arms and nudges me more fully into the room. She calls to Poppy, then motions to Miles to follow her into the kitchen, leaving Carter and me alone.
Well,sort ofalone. The kitchen isn’t so far away that we can’t still hear Anna’s hushed instructions to the girls to give us some privacy.
Carter looks toward the kitchen. “Do you think we could take a walk?”
“Yes! Definitely,” I say. “A walk sounds great.”
We’re quiet as he follows me to the front door. He pulls on his coat while I shrug into one of Anna’s. She always has a couple hanging in the entryway, and wearing hers feels easier than going back to the pool house for one of mine.
Even though it’s dark outside, Miles and Anna’s house is in a well-lit neighborhood with sidewalks and plenty of streetlamps, so we head down the driveway and turn toward the park at the end of the road.
