“You’re messing with me, right?” This sounds like one of the many stories Will has told me over the years to screw with me. He says I will fall for anything. And Will loves to exploit my weakness.
“No, not this time. The old lady upstairs fell asleep in her tub with the water running. Can I come stay or what?”
With our parents over two thousand miles away, what choice do I have?
“Yeah, I guess so. When are you coming over?”
“I’m at McFadden’s for happy hour.”
“Why are you drinking? I thought you guys made th
e playoffs.”
“We did. Our first game is next week. I’m out celebrating with a few of the guys on my team.”
“Whatever,” I sigh. “Get your ass here before I go to bed. I had the day from hell, and I’m not staying up all night waiting around for your drunk ass.”
“Whatever you say, boss. We’ll be there in a few hours.”
After I hang up, it hits me that Will said ‘we’ as in he plans to bring someone to my apartment. That shit won’t fly with me. I agreed to let my brother stay here, not one of his one-night stands. Because of our last name—Roman—and the fact Will is always with a girl on his arm, the media dubbed him Romeo. He sure as hell lives up to his nickname.
While I have two bedrooms, they’re tiny and barely enough space for me. Will can forget about me doing his dirty work for him in the morning. I’m not kicking out whatever puck bunny he brings home with him.
Hours pass before a knock at the door pulls me from my nap on the couch. I glance at the digital clock on the end table and sigh. As usual, Will didn’t keep his promise. He’ll be late for his funeral.
Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I stagger toward the front door in pink polka dot pajamas, a black tank top, and fuzzy slippers. A few more knocks pound onto the wood, shaking the door.
“I’m coming,” I shout. “Chill out.”
When I open the door, I gasp at the sight of Ethan Waters standing next to my brother. He left me ten years ago without a second thought. And I still hate him for it.
He told Will he had to take care of his sick grandmother in Boston, and yet, he couldn’t even make a simple phone call or send an e-mail to explain his sudden disappearance. I still don’t buy his excuse. Now that I work for The Philadelphia Inquirer, I have resources that allow me to dig into people’s pasts.
His grandmother was never sick. In fact, she’s alive and healthy and still working as an advisor at the company her husband founded. The Waters have tons of money, and that kind of wealth makes it easier to cover secrets.
Ethan is hiding something, though I still haven’t figured out what’s worth so much secrecy. His family has a lot of connections which have made it near impossible to determine the reason for his absence. He showed up three years ago when he was traded from the Oilers to the Flyers. He still acts if nothing happened without a single explanation.
When he returned, he was cocky and arrogant and nothing like the boy I once knew. Ethan hasn’t treated me the same since our last night on the swing set. He’s always rude and acts like the entitled prince that he is. The sight of him on my doorstep makes my skin burn and my nostrils flare.
I point at Ethan while speaking to Will. “What’s he doing here? I said you could come, not this idiot.”
“Let me in,” Ethan slurs as he pushes past me to get inside. He stumbles, tripping over his feet, and somehow regains his balance.
Since I moved out of my parents’ house, I’ve avoided Ethan at all costs, which means spending less time with my brother. On occasion, Ethan stops by with Will when they’re not on the road with the Flyers. I try to sneak over to the apartment they share when I know Ethan’s not around. Distance and time are what I needed from Ethan. I could use a little more right about now.
“You’re the most infuriating person I’ve ever met,” I yell, my face twisted in disgust. “Of all the people to show up with Will, it had to be you. I would’ve preferred one of his puck bunnies.”
“Don’t get your panties twisted,” Ethan hisses, with one eye open. “Or I’ll have to rip them off you.” He walks away from me and into the kitchen so, of course, I follow behind him.
“Gross,” I growl. “Like I would let you touch me. Who knows what disease-ridden skanks you were hanging out with tonight.”
“Can you two get along for five minutes?” Will says from behind me. “This situation sucks, but we have to make the best of it.”
I narrow my eyes at Will. “Wait, you think this jerk is staying here?”
“He doesn’t have anywhere to go.”
“He has credit cards, a trust fund, and a contract from the Flyers. I couldn’t even afford to buy dinner tonight. I should be staying with you, not the other way around. Will, I agreed to let you sleep here not the manwhore of Philadelphia. I might contract something if he stays with us. God knows where he’s been.”