But it was entirely uneventful. I needed toseethe humiliation. I needed to watch himliveit.
With a brave breath, I stepped back into the bar. The place seemed rowdier than before. There was definitely something exciting happening and I had a feeling I knew exactly what that was.
Show time.
Smiling, I took the end seat by the bar again, expecting to find Troy the laughing stock of the night. The police to possibly be called, fining him for indecency, hell anything.
Instead, I found our half-naked hockey star with an ear-to-ear grin—making his way out of the crowd—where someone had just called out “you’re my hero”.
Spotting me instantly at the end of the bar, he sauntered over, high-fiving a few hands in the air as he passed them.
“Another round for my buddies, Finn,” Troy called as he slipped beside me, nudging me with his bare shoulder. “And whatever she’s having, too.”
I shut my eyes and muttered curses that fell on deaf ears. “Just perfect.” When I opened my eyes, Troy was gazing at me with a coy grin and winked.
The bartender walked back over to him handing him a pair of shorts with the bar logo on it. “Sorry to ruin your fun, but please put these on,” he asked with a roll of his eyes.
“Sure thing, Finn.” Troy clutched the shorts and a pint of beer, then leaned in to me and whispered. “You can keep ‘em.”
I. Wanted. To.Scream.
3
Troyshouldhavebeenthe one pounding on my door this morning with ibuprofen and coffee. But instead,Iwas here, searching for the hidden key under his mat.
Ryan called one too many times this morning asking if I’d checked on the MIA center hockey star, because it was only a matter of time before the team captain and coach started banging down his door.
I let myself into my brothers’ lofty apartment. The penthouse of the most recently constructed residential building in Brooklyn had an incredible view of downtown, with a wraparound terrace he shared with the penthouse next door to admire it. Troy’s decor was minimal and modern with black leather couches that faced each other, an oversized marble coffee table and cowhide rugs which I always considered hideous and impractical.
It was always bright up here. Too bright. Troy didn’t have roller shades for his windows, and I was willing to bet he was regretting the decision to let them go bare right about now.
I, on the other hand, lived in my practical apartment one flight of stairs below the penthouse. Like many things in life, Troy followed my footsteps, but of course, had to stay one step ahead.
When he’d learned I’d bought a condo here, he outbid the buyer of this apartment by nearly a hundred grand. While our mother thought it was sweet for Troy to want to be close to me, I couldn’t have been more agitated.
“Troy. Bro, you in here?” I stepped down the single entry step into the living area.
I heard a groan from the den and walked down the hall until I reached it, finding him sprawled out on the small sofa staring at the television screen. Last night’s post game talk show was playing.
“What’s going on man?” I asked, ignoring what was clearly on replay.
He barely glanced in my direction. “Heard you put on quite a show last night.” He eyed my clothes head to toe.
More eventful than yours on the ice.
I cringed at my unspoken comment.
This wasn’t the time for our usual competitive brawls. His eyes were red and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days even though it was only last night that he’d blown the season starter. My twin’s eyes were back on the screen before I could think of a response.
What I should have said was, ‘yeah, another consequence of your actions I had to take on your behalf, you dipshit.’
But Harper’s name wouldn’t be mentioned—especially not the vendetta she clearly still had against him. Hopefully last night got something out of her system. Girl deserved some closure.
My lips perked when I thought of her flushed features last night when I was about to take off my boxers.
“How could I have missed those shots?”
My eyes snapped back to the present with my brother shaking his head, watching his replay.
