A Favor for a Favor (All In 2)

“He has a groin injury, RJ. He can’t have sex.”

“Thank fuck for that,” he snaps.

The elevator doors slide open, and I push him out into the parking garage. “I’m helping him with PT, not trying to ride his broken dick. Not that it’s any of your damn business.” I’ve thought about it, though. During our sessions I’ve gotten to know Bishop, and under that surly exterior and his poorly thought-out comments that often come across as seriously rude insults is what I’m beginning to think is a genuinely nice guy.

Plus he’s insanely hot, so I would have to be asexual not to have dirty thoughts about him. The kind I use as fodder for my private one-hand clapping parties after our nightly PT sessions. My vibrator has been getting one hell of a workout lately. Not that I’m going to share that with my unreasonably angry brother.

“He already has a team therapist working with him. He actually has a full staff helping him rehab, so why would he need you?” RJ’s eyes narrow with suspicion.

I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean for it to sound as dismissive as it does, but it still gets my back up. This is the exact reason growing up as Rook Bowman’s baby sister is a curse. Like what I do is so paltry and unimportant I couldn’t possibly be helpful in any real capacity. “I’m helping because he wants to heal faster, and it’s a good opportunity for me, career-wise. I get to work one-on-one with an injured NHL player.”

“I’ve already offered to get you a job working with NHL players, if that’s what you want. All I have to do is talk to our GM, and you’re in, Stevie. I have connections that could get you in to work with the women’s team. Then you can rehab and condition hockey players in a professional setting that isn’t Winslow’s apartment.” RJ keeps running his hands through his hair, gripping it at the crown.

“I already told you, I don’t want you to get me a job. I want to do it on my own merit, not because I have some high-profile brother who can pull all these strings for me. I’m damn good at my job, and I don’t need my brother swooping in to do everything for me. I’m better than that.” I try not to raise my voice, but I’m pretty annoyed by this whole thing.

“Why do you think Winslow is letting you rehab him?”

“Because I offered, and he wants to get back on the ice.”

RJ sighs and rubs the spot between his eyes. “Come on, Stevie, you can’t be that naive.”

“What are you talking about? Naive about what?”

“He’s using you, Stevie.”

“I’m the one who suggested it. Besides, it’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, so I don’t see how that constitutes me being used,” I snap.

“He’s doing this to get back at me.”

“That doesn’t even make sense. To get back at you for what? Not being injured?”

“Because he’s had a beef with me for years and because I became team captain when I chose to come to Seattle. It was supposed to be him.”

I throw my hand in the air. “Of course it has to be about you.”

“He’s been an antagonistic ass since preseason training has started. He’s jealous and he doesn’t like that I’m tight with management and our coach. Fuck!” He paces around like he’s a caged MMA fighter waiting for the bell to ring. “I bet he did this on purpose. I bet he knew this would piss me off when I found out. That’s why he’s letting you rehab him. I doubt him coming out into the hall, dressed the way he was, asking if you two were still on for tonight, was an accident.”

“Are you serious with this?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing; more than that, I don’t want to believe it, because I honestly feel like, shitty attitude aside, Bishop may actually be benefiting from my help.

“I’ll get the pool house set up for you, and you can move in there. There’s no way I’m letting you live across the hall from Winslow if he’s going to pull this kind of shit.”

The anger I try to keep a lid on most of the time pops off. “Do you even hear yourself? Not everything is about you, RJ! For the first few weeks, Bishop thought I was your mistress. He had no idea I was your sister. So whatever plot you think he’s hatching against you is in your head.”

“You don’t understand, Stevie—”

I slash a hand through the air. “No. You don’t understand. You have no idea what it’s like to be your little sister. It’s always been about you. How much better you are at everything, how much attention you always got. Is it so hard to believe Bishop is letting me help him because I’m actually capable?”