Standingoutside Airwave Arena three nights later, I shift my weight from side to side, shivering. I thought I’d be fine in a light jacket, but as the fall winds wrap themselves around me in a frigid hug, I’m seriously regretting my decision. I could wait for my brother inside, but I’m not in the mood to be bounced around in the crowds of people.
My fingers have turned to icicles by the time I spy Elliott’s tall frame. He’s only twenty-two, but his height and the stubble dusting his jaw make him look older than me.
As he steps up to me, I sink into his hug, happy to steal a little of his body heat. “Hi, E.”
Elliott chuckles and tightens his hold, tucking my head under his chin. “Sorry I’m late, Yaya. My meeting ran long.”
The childhood nickname sits warmly in my chest, and I forgive him for his tardiness and for my frozen toes. As a toddler, Elliott couldn’t pronounce Maya, but he attached to the last syllable of my name. Ya blossomed into Yaya, and he’s called me that ever since.
“How are things at work?” I ask as we push through the thick wooden doors of the arena.
“Very busy.” He gives me a small smile, but it can’t hide the bags under his eyes that weren’t there the last time I saw him. “But I like my manager, and the people on my team are nice so far.”
Since he started working at one of the big Boston finance firms, I don’tsee him nearly enough. I’m proud of him for landing such a great job straight out of school, but he works an insane number of hours, which, of course, makes me worry. I’ve taken care of my siblings since we were kids. When our mom went on her extended vacations with whomever she was dating that month and left us with nannies, babysitters, or random friends, I was their constant. The one who gave them at least a semblance of family and home.
I went to all of Elliott’s baseball games and sat through Ava’s countless dance competitions. I taught my brother how to parallel park and bought my sister her first box of tampons. And even though they’re both legal adults, I can’t help but worry about them. I can’t help but stress about whether my brother’s happy at his job, and there’s no stopping the fretting I do over Ava, who’s a college freshman still working to balance coffee-fueled study sessions and booze-fueled parties.
“Are you getting enough sleep?” I ask as we walk by the museum-like displays that house memorabilia.
Cole better not have been kidding about the nachos; the aroma of fried foods coming from the concession stands as we pass tempts me to join one of the long lines.
“Yes, so stop stressing out.” Elliott nudges me with his elbow and lifts a brow. “And don’t deny it. You’re giving me devil horns.”
With a huff, I smooth out my brow. According to my siblings, my brows crease when I’m overwhelmed or anxious, creating two lines that resemble little devil horns.Whatever.
“Seriously, Yaya. I’m good.” He flashes a boyish grin. “If anyone should be stressed about a sibling, it’s me. You haven’t said two words about Josh. Areyouokay?”
His tone is gentle, like I’m a deer he’s trying not to spook.
“There’s nothing to say. I’m fine.” I lift a shoulder in a casual shrug. “Thanks for asking, though.”
My relationship with Josh never got too serious—I didn’t let it—but his cheating still stung. It wasn’t his loss that hurt. It was how it made me feel. As if I wasn’t worth staying for in the first place. Proof once again that book boyfriends are better than the real thing.
Elliott opens his mouth to argue, his expression fierce. Instead, he deflates, sighing loudly. “So where are our seats? I can’t believe you, of all people, wanted to go to a hockey game. I didn’t even think you knew Boston had a team.”
“Okay, rude.” I give him a very abbreviated rundown of how I met Cole, conveniently leaving out the part where he showed up at the bookstore with tickets. No need to give him anything to overanalyze.
By the time the elevator doors open on the club level, Elliott’s beside himself with excitement. Apparently, two tickets to a hockey game are all it takes to go from overbearing sister to cool friend. Go figure.
“Do we just go in?” Nerves skittering through me, I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and peer down the wide hallway. With the patterned oriental carpet under our feet and the sleek walls filled with eclectic art, it feels more like a boutique hotel than an arena.
Elliott rolls his eyes. “No, we have to perform an Irish jig and solve three riddles first.”
My brother and I may look nothing alike, but when his sarcasm comes out to play, there’s no doubt we’re 100 percent related. Well, 50 percent, I guess. Different dads and all that.
Before I can hit him with a smart-ass reply, the door to our private suite swings open. An Airwave Arena employee who looks like Batman’s butler scans our tickets, then silently escorts us into the room.
Two walls are dominated by sleek flat-screen TVs, despite the incredible view of the ice from our club-level seats, which are plush and far more comfortable than I would have expected. We sink into them as modern-day Alfred Pennyworth launches into a rundown of the room’s amenities. In-seat dining from a chef-curated menu. Access to some ultra-exclusive club. A mixologist serving craft cocktails. It’s all so over-the-top. Cole may regret his choice to seat us up here when his plan backfires because I’m too distracted to actually watch the game.
Pennyworth takes his leave—after letting us know which button to press to summon him, of course—but the door opens again moments later. A woman wearing an oversized Bobcats jersey steps in, a small smile on her lips. With her big ocean-blue eyes, pale blond hair, and high, delicate cheekbones, she looks like a Polly Pocket doll come to life.
Her steps falter a bit as her gaze lands on Elliott and me, but she quickly recovers, donning a small smile and striding our way. Stopping beside my seat, she says, “Hi. I’m Sophie.”
Her introduction is pleasant enough, though there’s a subtle uncertainty just below the surface, like she’s unsure of how she’ll be received.
“I’m Maya.” I give her a small wave. “And this is my brother Elliott.”
Taking his eyes off the ice where the teams are warming up, Elliott smiles. “Nice to meet you, Sophie.”
