Jack raises his hands in an innocent gesture. “Who, me? I would never. It’s not like I have any sort of score to settle. It’s not as if my best friend started boinking my sister and then justcontinuedon and made it a habit.”
“Did you take your meds today?”
Jack looks thoughtful. “I honestly can’t remember.”
Ian rolls his eyes. “Go get dressed, and leave Abby alone.”
“Fine, fine,” he relents. “But Abby loves our banter. It’s part of our meet-cute.”
“There is no meet-cute,” I argue. “I met you months ago.”
“It’s all about the endgame, baby,” he teases.
Ian shoos him away, shoving him back into the locker room before stepping out into the hall with Lila in tow. “He’s determined to punish Lila and me by being as insufferable as he can to you, isn’t he?”
“That does seem to be the case,” I agree.
Lila pats Ian’s shoulder. “Abby and I are going to go grab some food before the game starts, but we’ll be back before the face-off, okay?”
“I’ll be looking for you,” Ian hums, leaning in to press his lips to Lila’s.
I avert my eyes. There’s always a fifty-fifty chance that they’ll kiss longer than is appropriate for being in public, knowing them. Thankfully, they cut this one short.
Doesn’t stop Lila from slapping Ian on the ass.
“See you soon, Cupcake,” she says sweetly, watching as Ian shoots me a wink before he walks back into the locker room, laughing as his teammates start jeering him.
Lila loops her arm through mine then. “Jack wasn’t too much of a nuisance today, was he?”
“It’s fine,” I assure her. “I can handle him.”
“He means well, but…”
“He’s a bit of a menace.”
“Yeah,” Lila laughs. “That. You learn to love it.”
“I’ll let you know when that happens,” I say dryly.
She laughs harder, nudging me in the ribs. “Chinese or pizza?”
“Whatever’s closest,” I tell her, stomach rumbling.
She grins. “That’s my kind of woman.”
You know, for being thesister of such a popular player and the daughter of a legend—I sure don’t know shit about hockey.
I watch Lila as she rises to her feet for the fourth time this period, shouting something about goaltender interference. Her faceis turning slightly red, and I feel out of place just sitting here beside her, barely knowing what’s going on.
She slumps back down in her seat with a huff, muttering, “Where the hell are your eyes? Ref!”
“Bad call?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes. “It’s been the whole game.”
“I guess one of these days I’m going to have to actually sit here and let you explain the rules to me,” I laugh, my eyes following the Druids players as they move across the ice. I can just spot Ian as he glides to the center, Jack close behind him.
“You’ll get it eventually,” she chuckles. “Basically, that player over there touched the goalie when he wasn’t supposed to. That’s why he didn’t block the goal. No one but the goalie is supposed to be in the crease.”
