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“Yeah,” I sigh, unhappy with the thought of all that competition out there.
The entire hockey world is about to meet Ollie and find out what we’ve known all along—he’s special.
“I think my brother has always had a soft spot for you too,” she says.
Her admission makes my chest feel warm and fuzzy and tight. It means more, coming from someone so close to him. Someone who knows him so well.
“He’s protective by nature, sure … but it was always a little different where you were concerned.”
We sit next to each other in the middle of our new apartment, surrounded by the chaos of a recent move, lost in memories of the past. Most of my childhood is wrapped up in Ollie and Oakley. Most of my life is.
“If it’s any consolation,” Oakley murmurs, “I think Ollie is missing you a lot too.”
My eyes snap to hers. “Really?”
Any insider info she gives is priceless.
She nods slowly, but that’s the only insight she provides. Oakley is just as loyal to her brother as she is to me and probably even more protective.
“Talk to him, Mads.”
I nod, acknowledging the serious expression on her face.
“Tell him how you really feel,” she adds.
Oakley grabs her water and drains the glass. She rises to her feet. “Now, let’s get to work! This apartment is not going to unpack itself.”
We spend the rest of the day setting up our new place while dancing to the music blasting from my Bluetooth speaker. It’s a good distraction from the heaviness of the past two weeks. And we take advantage of a rare night alone to order pizza and eat too much ice cream while watching trash reality shows on the couch. I didn’t realize how much I have missed Oakley or how much I need these times with her. It makes me excited for the year to come.
We fall asleep in front of the television before dragging our tired bodies to our bedrooms. And I vow to talk to Ollie soon. But after the wedding. I can only handle one crisis at a time, and my mother is bound to be a handful this weekend. I’m mentally preparing myself for it.
Plus, I’m not sure what scares me the most about having that conversation … what Ollie will say or what he won’t.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
MADISON
“Maddy, can you grab that other shade of lipstick? This pink is too dark. It washes me out,” my mom complains from her throne in front of the mirror.
She’s frowning back at her reflection, though she looks perfect. Her blonde hair is pulled back in an elaborate updo. Her skin is tan and glowing. She tugs on her robe as she scrutinizes her appearance.
I roll my eyes when the woman curling my hair is forced to pull the iron away while I stand and cross the room to rummage through my makeup bag. I knew Celeste would be demanding this weekend, and she hasn’t disappointed in that department. Everyone is treating her like the queen bee, doting on her. Handing her glasses of champagne. And she’s loving every minute of it.
This was supposed to be a small affair. A wedding with twenty or thirty people attending. I’m the only bridesmaid, and Brent’s buddy Ed is standing up for him. Even though my mom grudgingly held on to the reduced guest list, she hired a wedding planner, makeup artist, and hairstylists to make us—her—look amazing for the ceremony.
“Here you go,” I say, handing her the tube.
Celeste immediately passes it to the makeup artist and watches through narrowed eyes as it’s applied. God forbid she apply her own lipstick today. She leans back, purses her lips, blots, rubs them together, and finally smiles. She’s nothing if not dramatic.
I laugh beneath my breath as I turn to walk back to my chair.
“This is perfect,” she says.
It’s like the entire room collectively sighs in relief. Celeste epitomizes the bridezilla description, though that word might be too tame and understated for her. She is a handful. But she’s my handful. I’m just not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. I guess it depends on the day.
My mom frowns over at me. “I thought you were wearing your hair down.”
“I am,” I say.
