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“Half-brother. And I never would have imagined you’d think he was my son! You sure do jump to a lot of conclusions. Must be a figure skater thing. All that jumping.”
“Watch it or I’ll drop kick you.”
I hold up my hands. “Okay, okay. Truce?”
She sighs. “Yeah, whatever. I feel like such an idiot.”
I get up from the table and wrap my arms around her, kissing her on the head. “You’re not an idiot. You’re just… really dumb.”
“What?” she shoves at my chest.
“I’m kidding. I just love it when your face scrunches up like that. You’re like a cute little elf.”
“You are skating on thin ice, puck boy.”
“You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”
She turns bright red. “That’s enough, now. Your brother will be coming out any minute. Oh, and before I forget…”
In one graceful motion, she reaches for the hem of the jersey I gave her and flips it over her head. She’s wearing a spaghetti strap tank top underneath, but my mouth still goes dry from the sight of all that exposed skin.
She’s handing the jersey out to me, trying to get me to take it, but I want her to keep it. I want to see it on her all the damn time.
She shakes it at my chest level. “Here, take it.”
But something catches my eye. A smudge on her bicep. No, not a smudge. A bruise. A grab mark bruise with the pattern of a thumb and fingers.
“How did you get that bruise, Emily?”
Her opposite hand flies to cover it, but I gently peel it away so I can get a better look. Somebody did this to her. Rage curls in my gut.
“Emily,” I say with the lowest, most steady growl I can muster. “Who did this to you?”
20
EMILY
I’ve been home for about twenty-five minutes when a knock comes on the door. My body jolts when I think it might be Cody. I know he didn’t mean to hurt me the other day. He’s just a lanky, geeky guy. But when he thought I stood him up for our “date” he got angry. I tried to tell him I was in Quebec and that I never even said yes when he asked me out, but none of that registered with him.
He had everything planned that night—flowers, chocolates. And he got all dressed up. When I didn’t answer the door, he thought something happened to me at first. But then he let his thoughts fester… scenarios of me standing him up and making a fool of him. He was so upset, confronting me in the hallway. I tried to reason with him. Calm him down. But when I turned to walk to my apartment, he grabbed my arm. Hard.
Honestly, I didn’t think much of it. I hadn’t realized he’d left a bruise.
I guess he’s stronger than he looks.
When I explained all this to Owen, he looked like his head would explode right off his shoulders. He was ready to call in all the guys on the team to teach my slinky neighbor a lesson. Of course I reminded him of the possible assault charges, and thatseemed to bring his fury down to a rolling simmer. Plus, he was trying to keep his cool for Cyrus.
Then, he insisted I go home with him. To his house. Yeah. That was a hard no. Lucky for me, he had to drop Cyrus off at Shannon’s house with only two seats in his sports car. What kind of person drives a sports car in the winter? Mister show-off. That’s who.
So, only after I was safely inside my Uber did he allow me out of his sight and he made me promise to text as soon as I was in my apartment with the door locked.
It’s been a long night. I’m tired. I need a shower.
Another knock sounds on the door, this time a little more urgent. I swear if this is Cody, I am going to blast him with my fire hydrant. I pick up the small fire extinguisher that I got at Canadian Tire, and stand poised at my front door to either smack it with it or spray him to smithereens with whatever chemical they fill these things with.
I sneak a look through the peephole even though I can only see through it only fifty percent of the time.
But it’s not Cody standing on the other side of my door. It’s Owen. Relief washed through me. Something else washes through me, too. But let’s just ignore that.
