I run a hand through my hair, wishing Drew was here instead of at work. I’m shit a broaching awkward subjects, and she’s fucking awesome at it.
“Do you have five million in the bank?”
She twists her lips to the side, eyeing me carefully. “My business is taking off and I’m making a lot in advertisement, so I have half if I include the money in my trust fund.”
I balk. “June, that’s a lot of cash to drop on your first house, I?—”
“Mom and Dad said that they will temporarily cover the other half,” she interjects before I offer to help her out financially. “They see it as a really good investment opportunity, and I’ll repay them over time until I own a hundred per cent because I don’t want to rely forever on their money.” She pauses and quirks a brow at me in warning. “Or my brother’s. My business will be an empire by the time I’m through building it, just like Mom did with her legal practice.”
I sit back in my seat, dragging my palms across the table.
She rolls her eyes at me, a pink flush staining her cheeks. “Seriously, Will. You, of all people, cannot pass judgment on spending money.” Her eyes rove my house, and she thumbs behind her toward the front door. “Have youseenthe place you live in and the cars in your driveway?”
She has a point.
“It’s not my decision to make, JJ,” I say, using her nickname to lighten the conversation. “If the house is what you want and moving to Seattle is where you want to be then go for it. You know that I’ll support you in whatever decisions you make.”
Her eyes soften. Occasionally, my twin sister can be affectionate.
“The truth is…” She twists her hands around on the table and after a beat, says, “I miss you.”
Okay, I was not expectingthatlevel of affection.
June bites down on the inside of her cheek. “It feels like we barely spend any time together anymore. We shared a uterus for crying out loud, and now I only get to see you if I’m interviewing a player in Seattle, flying over to watch one of your games, or celebrating the holidays.”
I open my mouth to speak but she continues, moving her hands as she grows more animated.
“With you marrying Drew… I love that, truly. But I miss the days when you’d video call me and talk about your day or we’d do something crazy like meet up for an all-you-can-eat meal and compete over who could eat the most plates of food.”
I snort a laugh at the last time we did that. It was years ago and before I started obsessing over my diet in preparation for the pros. Chinese was the food of choice that time and June ate me under the table.
“That used to give me theworstindigestion.”
She barks out a laugh, and I creep my hand across the table, resting a couple of fingers over hers.
“I’m sorry that I’ve not been around as much as I used to be.”
June waves away my apology, looking every bit my mother as she does it. Jones women are a different breed of badass. They have the biggest hearts, but the strongest bars built around them. Whoever June falls for in her life will need balls of steel, or a really good angle grinder.
“Don’t be silly. Your priority is Drew these days and I get that. And when you start a family you’ll be even busier.”
I’m ready to spill that Drew and I are already trying but pull back at the final moment. Like I said, waiting twelve weeks to break the news of a pregnancy is going to kill me.
“I don’t think I’ll ever find someone to spend my life with. I’ll end up with the big house and a fancy car with a few dogs and that will be my lot.”
My sibling’s declaration knocks me off guard. June has never expressed an interest in dating, but the flatness to her voice implies she might be having second thoughts.
“Do you want to meet someone?” I ask.
She scoffs, falls quiet, and then scoffs again, shifting in her chair. “I like to keep things casual.”
I quirk a brow. “For the rest of your life?”
“Why not?” She shrugs. “Men are a fucking nightmare. The only decent guys I’ve found are my grandpa Jones, my dad, and you.”
“I dunno,” I drawl, picking up my bottle and taking another pull of water. “Tristan Vaughn seems like your ideal suitor.”
If looks could kill, I’d be without a pulse.
