Page 26 of Put a Rink on It

His smile grows wider. “Let me chat with Keeley for a few.”

“Walsh. It’s for you." I hand the phone over to my brother, who disappears with it, his “Hey, man, how’s it going?” trailing behind him as I take a seat on the couch.

“What are they chatting about?” Ma asks.

“Something about Nero doing a clinic at Aspenridge this summer.” I keep my voice low so Lennon doesn’t overhear. Not that she’s paying us any attention. She’s too enthralled with the hockey game on TV.

“He has to make up for all the time he didn’t know his sister was hiding being friends with a professional hockey star.” Ma raises a brow.

Understanding dawns how keeping our friendship concealed from my family for so long and the fake engagement parallel each other. I suppose it could work more in my favor…

“I’m not saying he would have taken advantage, but I’m not saying he wouldn’t have either. It was easier this way.” I often wonder what would have happened if I had shared with Walsh my connection to Nero earlier than when he found out.

“If you say so.”

I can’t refute her statement as Walsh returns, tipping my phone into my lap. “He’s yours again.”

My head gets tripped up on the “yours.” I will my body to relax. Nero didn’t tell him. Our secret is still safe for now.

Nero’s smiling face stares at me from my lap. Ma leans in, and I angle the phone so they can see each other. “Hello, Nero.”

The smile slips momentarily, but Nero recovers quickly. “Mama K. How goes it?”

“Excellent. Now that you’re on the East Coast, when are you coming to visit? I’m always free for breakfast.”

“Ma,” I hiss.

“I’ll check my calendar and let Marina know. Soon, hopefully.”

“You do that. Okay, he’s all yours.” Ma pats my hand and pushes from the couch, stopping to give a kiss to Dad and Lennon before hustling out of the room.

Again with the “yours” business. Do they know how true their statements are?

“How much longer will you be there?” Nero’s hopeful question draws my focus back to the phone. He’s on his couch, the only furniture in the bare living room.

“Probably not much longer. The kids have to get to bed soon, and it’s close to my bedtime, too.”

“Seriously. I can’t believe you’re out so late on a work night.”

“I’m working from home tomorrow, and my first meeting isn’t until ten. I can sleep in if need be.”

“As if you won’t be up before six anyway,” he jests.

I giggle at his accuracy. “True story.”

“I have to shower, so what time can I expect a phone call later?”

“Twenty minutes long enough?” It gives me time to wrap things up here, drive seven minutes down the road to my place, and get into my pajamas.

“Sure. Talk then. Buh-bye.” He waves, and the call ends.

It’s only when I’ve said goodbye to the rest of my family and on the way home do I remember what we need to talk about.

Cue the jitters.

CHAPTER 9

nero