Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 121734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
I swallowed. “Not by choice.”
“You are, though. What? Were you laughing at us behind our backs? Sharing all the neat little tidbits to your brothers? To fucking Daniel?”
Nausea rode over me. “I would never.”
“Wouldn’t you? You’re a Connors. That’s what they would do!”
“But I’m not a Connors by choice! I’m only a Connors because of my mom.” My voice broke. “Trust me. I’ve thought about changing my name, but she held me in her arms and told me she liked my name and it’s the last thing I have from her.”
He was quiet. “Your mom?”
“She died when I was six.”
He looked away. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Well. We all have our things, right?” I gave him a pointed look.
He closed his eyes tight and let out a rueful exhale. His hand gripped the bottle so tight while his other raked through his hair. “Daniel fucked my sister’s life up. You know that, right?”
“I know that.” Guilt flooded me. He had no idea how much I knew that.
“I have had to deal with your brothers all my fucking life. I couldn’t get away from them in high school because they were there. They were there in Juniors. They were there on the national teams. They were there in the NHL. They’re everywhere I go and now they’re in my fucking bed?”
“No.” I stepped toward him. “Don’t you—” My voice went guttural. “Don’t you dare fucking go there. They are not here. I—I cannot stand them. I didn’t lie to the team. I don’t know Daniel and Dane Connors. I never want to know them.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t make sense to you because you love your sister. Mine don’t love me. I do not have the type of relationship with them you have with yours. When it comes to family, you are the lucky one. Trust me.”
Silence grew thick in the room. I felt my words echoing around us. Pounding.
“Where the fuck were you tonight?”
I shook my head, stopping in the doorway. “I grew up with a brother who was meaner than you. Nothing you say will penetrate. Did you know I have a niece? I didn’t. I haven’t talked to my brothers in twelve years, and tonight, I not only found out that Dane has a daughter, but he named her after me. Me.” My voice rose. “Why the fuck would he name her after me? He hated me growing up.”
“You haven’t talked to your brothers in twelve years?”
“Now you want to ask questions? After giving me the silent treatment for how long?”
He frowned, ignoring what I said. “Your brother hates you?”
“I just told you they do.”
“How’d you find out about the niece?”
I gave him the abbreviated version. “In the bathroom.”
“Bathroom?”
“VIP section. On the suites level.”
“The fuck are you talking about?”
I was done answering questions. Stalking over to him, I swiped my rum back and returned to the living room. What was I going to do with that couch? I’d need to call someone because I didn’t want the hotel to charge me for cleaning. They’d overcharge me.
Tyler followed. “So you were at the game tonight?”
“You grew up here. Do you know a couch cleaner I could call?”
He stared at the couch alongside me. “My sister probably does, but she’s not talking to me right now.”
I grunted. “Lucky her.”
“What?”
I ignored that. “How do I find somewhere to clean it?”
He gave me a sideways glance. “I don’t think you take couches to the cleaners. They’re not really portable.”
I grunted. “True.” I took another shot of rum and changed my focus. “What are you doing here?”
“Why weren’t you at the game tonight?”
“We’ve already established that I was.”
“But not as part of the team. You weren’t working.” He said this like an accusation.
“It’s none of your business, remember? You left. You haven’t talked to me lately. You have no reason to be here, and even less reason to ask me those sorts of questions.” I pointed at the door, the rum swishing in the bottle from the motion. “Get out.”
“You don’t mean that.” He still glowered, but it was lessening.
“The fuck I don’t.” I took a step toward him. “Get. Out.”
He didn’t move, his eyes tracing my movements. He bent down so he could see right into my eyes. One more inch and my chest would brush against his.
I had no bra on.
I was suddenly aware of that fact.
When I got home, I’d pulled on the clothes on the top of my dresser—a Grays hoodie and my tiny shorts. I hadn’t expected guests. I only wanted to get drunk, numb some of the pain, and sleep. I really wanted to sleep. I always struggled with that, but it’d been worse lately.
As if following my thoughts, Tyler noted, “Morty said you’ve been skating every night.”
I shrugged, taking a step away from him, because this was pointless. Tyler wasn’t going to leave until he took his pound of flesh, whatever that meant for him.