Chapter 8
AVAH
“Tell me again why I’m here?” I ask my brother, tugging on the ridiculously tight dress I had to get at the last minute. “And why on earth couldn’t you wait five more minutes for me to get the right size dress?”
I was busy packing up my life when EJ phoned and insisted I join him for the season opening gala. I thought after his date with Liz, he’d ask her to come with him, leaving me to pack without anyone witnessing how my life is falling apart.
EJ looks down at me, his blue eyes, just like mine, filled with sudden exasperation.
“Why is it such a hardship to accompany your brother to his charity events?” he asks, grabbing a glass of champagne from the waiter and handing it to me. “It’s like you don’t get free drinks and food, not to mention an all expenses paid shopping trip.”
“It’s not a shopping trip when you drag me to one store and insist I take something before your timer buzzes. That’s a hostage situation.”
“You’re exaggerating,” he says with a huff.
“My butt won’t agree with that.” I tug on the dress again, hoping I can somehow get away with standing with my back toward some kind of wall all evening. Nobody should see anybody in a dress this tight. It’s practically a second skin. At least it covers everything…just more tightly than I’d like.
“Besides, you’re the one who insisted I buy you a dress. I was more than happy to wait while you get ready. But you practically shoved me out the door—” he turns to me, his eyes flashing with accusation, “—-telling me you’ll get dressed in the dressing room and do your make-up in my car.”
Glancing away, I try to hide the guilt of keeping something from him.
Insisting on getting dressed in the boutique wasn’t my best plan, but it was the only option.
All my dresses are already packed and I wasn’t ready to tell him about my visa.
That would be admitting defeat, because he’ll either insist on helping me or tell me it’s a good idea to go home.
Neither option is acceptable to me at the moment.
So here I am, tugging on a dress that’s one size too small.
“Yes, well that’s what you get for telling me I had to be here on such short notice.” It’s a flimsy excuse for a comeback, but it’s what I’ve got.
“Mm…So, it’s not because you’re hiding something in your apartment?”
Like a million halfpacked moving boxes?
“Well, if I was, I’m not telling you now.” I take a sip of my drink, giving him a smile and hoping it will throw him off. My gaze falls on Hannah, who’s waving from where she’s standing with her husband, Lucas.
“Aves—”
“Let’s go say hi to the others,” I say, desperate to change the subject. “You paid for the dress, you insisted I come, so let’s go do what you’re supposed to do. No point in delaying the inevitable.”
He sighs, leading me further into the room.
The place is beautifully decorated, as usual.
Elegance and dollar signs rolled together.
The entire team is present, all dressed in their best suits.
Most of them are dateless. Looking at the way Lindgren is talking and smiling with a few ladies, I can’t help but wonder if it’s that way by design.
I have no doubt that the Rangers’ PR team knows exactly what they’re doing when it comes to impressing donors and sponsors.
If these people need the undivided attention from world class athletes, then that’s what they’ll get.
From across the room, Declan meets my gaze and I can’t help the knee-jerk reaction of sending a glare in his direction.
I’ve seen the video of the hit so many times today, on every social media platform.
Every one of them talking about how aggressive Declan is, what a liability he is…
and of course speculations about the possibility of a trade.
He might be suspended after that play last night, but tonight, he looks every bit the part of AllStar hockey player.
His dark hair is tamed and his navy blue suit is perfectly tailored, but beneath his eyes there are faint circles that haven’t been there before.
His jaw is tight and his hands are dug deep in his pockets like he’s holding back with everything he’s got.
There’s a woman next to him, a woman who’s not Melissa. Judging by the way they’re standing, I’m not sure if she’s here with him or not. Maybe not…she looks very different from his usual type. For starters her dress is floor length.
She looks extremely…nice and normal even.
I bite my tongue, scolding myself internally. Stop being catty.
Please, Father, help me to be kind. Help me to not judge, help me to guard my mouth…just help.
“Avah,” Hannah greets me and I lean in to hug my friend. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Yes, well, if EJ would just bring a date instead of his sister we could see each other over ice-cream and movies like normal people do.” I tug on my dress again, feeling a bit self-conscious with the way Declan’s eyes are gliding over my choice of attire. “And we can do it in sweats or pajamas.”
Hannah smiles. “This is Lynn,” she says, gesturing toward the woman next to Declan. “We know each other from church and she was so nice to agree to meet Declan tonight.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, hoping my smile is genuine as I look between her and Declan. I have nothing against her, I don’t know her. And yet, there’s something strange stirring inside of me at the thought of the two of them spending the evening together.
Still, I can’t manage to move my smile into something genuine and I can’t seem to take my eyes off the two of them. They just don’t…fit.
What was Hannah thinking?
Declan smiles, the small dimple in his cheek making an appearance.
“Want to say that out loud, Snowflake?” he asks, his Boston accent grating against my nerves.
I shrug taking a sip of my champagne. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Sure, you don’t.” He chuckles deeply.
I swallow down the retort that’s far from friendly and closer to unkind, angry, and maybe even a little uncalled for. Instead, I try to summon some semblance of kindness.
“I’m sorry to hear about your suspension,” I say, genuinely meaning it.
Last night it was clear to anyone with eyes that Declan was going through something. I can only imagine how he must be feeling right now…and that’s the only reason I’m trying to keep myself from saying anything that might be hurtful.
He shrugs, rocking on his feet. “Eight games, two weeks, zero practice—can’t see how that’s supposed to stop me from punching people.”
He’s not wrong. In my experience, hockey players need the icetime like normal people need air. Having him off the ice for two weeks might be a slap on the wrist, but it’s definitely going to add to his frustration.
“We’ll have to see if you can still skate by the time you’re allowed back,” I toss back. “You’ll have to focus on your feet instead of your fists.”
He chuckles, low and unexpected. Hannah’s gaze flicks between us, curious, while EJ’s jaw tightens like he’s one word away from stepping in.
“Don’t you have anything better to do on a Saturday than go on a date with this guy?” Declan asks, his eyes holding amusement and a challenge.
Instead of answering him, I turn to my brother, who’s still glaring at Declan.
“Yes EJ, why didn’t you bring a date?” I ask, watching as a small frown forms on Lynn’s face.
“I know for a fact Liz is still in town,” Hannah chimes in, her gaze falling on me. “She’s an absolute natural at these types of events. She could’ve given us a few pointers.”
EJ takes a slow sip of his drink, deliberately avoiding our gazes, his attention still locked on his teammate.
“Everyone else seems to have brought one,” I add, lifting my glass. “Even Declan. Not that he’s ever without a date.”
I glance at him, hoping my expression is neutral, unreadable. He’s just a man who brought a woman to a function.
Nothing else. At least…nothing to me.
My brother clears his throat. “What should I call you then?” EJ asks with a tight smile.
“That, my friend, is your sister,” Declan says, his gaze settling on me. For a flicker of a second, something unsettled flashes in his dark brown eyes—like he’s not entirely sure who or what he’s looking at. “And nobody should date their sister.”
I’m not sure whether to be offended or shocked that he’s agreeing with me on something. At least he didn’t say ‘your’ sister—as in nobody should date your sister.
EJ looks at Declan with a clear warning in his eyes before he turns back to me.
“Maybe it’s time for a dance, don’t you think?” he asks, taking my hand and all but dragging me to the dancefloor before I can even give him an answer.
At least Hannah and Lucas join in, so we’re not the only ones making a spectacle of ourselves. Lindgren sees this as his chance to ask one of the guests to dance too—an older woman with a tight french twist and diamond chandeliers hanging from her ears.
Declan and his date are still standing on the side, his gaze not leaving us for a second. I try my best to ignore him, but it’s hard knowing he’s trying to unnerve me.
“What’s going on between the two of you?” EJ asks suddenly, his voice sharp and tinged with accusation.
“What?” My head snaps toward him.
“You and Murphy.” EJ nods to where Declan is still standing, staring at us. “First the whole charade at dinner and now this.”
“What charade at dinner?” There was definitely no charade. Maybe a kick beneath the table, but that’s just because Declan is tall and his legs were everywhere. “He’s your teammate, EJ. Your friend. He’s nothing to me.”
The words feel strange. Like they might not be true. Which is pure insanity in and of itself. They are true. Then why does it feel false?
“I’m just trying to look out for you, lillasyster.” He sighs. “I don’t want you to make the same mistake twice.”
The reminder slams me in the chest. Heat creeps up my neck as I look at my brother who might be trying to issue a friendly warning, but instead it’s sounding like a condescending reminder of my poor life choices.