Ethan (Face-Off 5)

I flash an arrogant smile in his direction. “I don’t doubt that. Care to answer the question I asked you earlier?”

Ethan grinds his teeth together, clamping his mouth shut.

“Didn’t think so,” I say with a wink.

No matter how hard I’ve searched Ethan’s past, it reads like a clean slate. Except for one thing. Even his family’s money and connections couldn’t erase the news articles about his twin brother. Ethan was in the car with Erik when he crashed. Erik was the golden boy of his high school, and from what I could tell, the favorite of the twins.

Ethan never spoke about his brother to me. He acted as though what had brought him to Pennsylvania was as simple as a new business venture for his father. The details in the local papers were limited, most likely silenced by his father. If Will knows about it, he’s never once mentioned it to me.

“If you won’t give me something worth writing…” I tell Ethan, “… then I guess I’ll have to make something up. How about a secret baby or something juicy?” I laugh to let him know I’m joking.

Ethan shakes his head at me, his nostrils flared. “Don’t you dare or you’ll pay for it later.”

“Ooh, I’m shaking.” I throw my hands up in the air. “You have no power over me.” I push my chair out from the table to get a better look at Ethan and Will. “To save time, I’m going to throw questions out there, and whoever answers first, wins.” I chuckle as I remove the tape recorder from my messenger bag and hit record.

I fire questions at them. Ethan and Will attempt to answer at the same time as if they’re actually in a race to win. Sinking into the plush leather chair, I record their answers, eventually moving on to the other players, all while I’m daydreaming about Ethan.

Damn, I’m so screwed.

Chapter Eight

Ethan

After the interview ends, I leave the Wells Fargo Center with Will. My head is a little fuzzy from spending the last hour with Mia while she grilled us with questions. How am I supposed to do this every day for the next month? We’re days away from our first playoff game. This is the time to focus, not the time to get myself caught in the middle of what could be a bad situation if I give in to my desires for Mia.

“We should do something nice for Mia,” Will says as he slides behind the wheel of his BMW M3.

He loves this car as much as I did my old Mustang. It was the only car he ever talked about when we were in high school, and playing for the Flyers has made both of our dreams a reality.

I glance over at him. “What did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking we could stop by the grocery store on the way back to her place so we can make her dinner?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You don’t know how to cook.”

“Maybe not but you do.”

I shake my head, staring out the window as he drives off the lot. “Bastard.”

“Hey, you wanted to stay with my sister. The least you can do is show off those culinary skills while you’re crashing on her couch.”

I forgot to mention that part to Mia. Will had every intention of staying in a hotel until I talked him into asking Mia to let us crash at her apartment. A few weeks in a confined space together should hopefully be enough to convince her that I’m not the asshole she believes, despite the fact we can’t ever be together.

She’s one of my biggest regrets. I can’t change what happened with my brother, but I can try to change things with Mia.

“It wasn’t my idea to stay with her,” I counter, getting comfortable in my seat.

These stupid racing seats are not meant for men who are six foot four and weigh two hundred twenty pounds.

“You asked me to call Mia,” Will says. “I wanted to rent a hotel room for the night, but you had a hard-on to sleep at Mia’s.”

I cross my arms over my chest and sigh. “That’s not how it went down. I only suggested you call her so we could meet up with those girls without having to deal with moving our shit. We were both tired from being on the road. Don’t act like you wanted to bother with any of it.”

Will drives down Broad Street, headed toward Chickie’s & Pete’s, a popular seafood restaurant everyone in Philly loves.

He clenches the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the busy street. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter where we sleep, anyway. Since we’re off tomorrow, you can cook for us tonight. Knowing Mia, she won’t eat unless we fill her fridge with food.”

“She’s always been stubborn.”