22. Luke
CHAPTER 22
LUKE
“ H ow many books do you need, Kins?” I manage to sound sarcastic while lugging a box containing an unassembled bookshelf to her dorm room—her birthday present that I’m about to spend the next two hours assembling. I’ve yet to meet one of these that didn’t take twice as long as it should.
“Need and want are two very different things. This is a want, thus why I wanted a bookshelf for my birthday.”
I lower one end of the box to the floor and hold the top. “Then consider me assembling it your Christmas present.”
She mocks a gasp. “Low blow, big bro.”
Kinsley holds the door open for me as I drag the box into her room. I squat over the carton, cutting open the taped flap with a pair of scissors I swiped from a pencil cup. Books fill the two built-in shelves above her desk, and more are stacked on top. Additional piles of books stand in clusters by the corner.
“I’m not sure this will be enough, Kins.” I chuckle.
“What can I say? Words are my life.” She drops with a bounce on the twin-sized bed, sitting against the opposite wall along with a small dresser nearby. Seeing the quilt Mom made her draped over the mattress brings a smile to my face .
But no pang of grief…interesting.
I gesture to the book stacks. “I assume you want this there.”
“Yes, please. Then I can take you to this really cool ramen place I found around the corner.” She jumps to her feet and starts shifting the books onto her bed.
I lean back on my feet, hands out. “Seriously? I’m in New York, and you want me to eat noodles?”
“Ramen,” she groans. “You can have pizza tomorrow. I’m sure there’s a spot close to your hotel.”
Light streams in through a window that overlooks a sea of windows on the opposite building. The room is small, but Kinsley did a great job of making it feel cozy with some throw pillows and pictures from home.
Once I get her shelf assembled, she relegates me to the handing her books so she can arrange them in the order she prefers, which she goes into great detail explaining her system. I pretend to listen while my brain drifts to Sophie.
She should have found the flowers I left on her desk by now. I glance at my phone in case she texted me, but there’s nothing there. Maybe she hasn’t made it to her office yet. I think she finished interviewing the rest of the team, and we don’t have a game until Thursday this week, which was why I decided to hop a plane and see my sister. And maybe check out this new boyfriend of hers a little more.
“Will Brandon be joining us for ramen?” The only ramen I’ve ever had were those little cheap packages you cook yourself. I hope this place does a better job than that.
“No, he’s probably on a date with Ashley.”
“Who’s Ashley?”
“His new flavor of the week.” Instead of placing one at a time, she slams a small stack of books onto a shelf, making the whole thing shudder.
“Hey, take it easy with that. I did build it, after all.” I’m trying to lighten the mood, but inside, I’m seething at this guy .
“Sorry.” Her voice sounds uncharacteristically quiet. And she’s staring at her hands.
Rising from her bed, I drag her resistant body into a hug. “Do I need to have a talk with Brandon?”
She’s stiff at first, then softens.
“No,” she mumbles against my shirt.
I take a deep breath, drawing courage to ask what I feel I have to know. “Did he do anything to hurt you?”
She sighs, then looks up at me. “Maybe just my pride? I thought he really liked me. Guess I wasn’t interesting enough.”
I snort. “Not likely. You probably intimidated the hell out of him.”
She throws a pillow at me, which I catch.
“Kins, I meant that as a compliment. You deserve a guy who appreciates what a strong person you are. Brandon didn’t strike me as having the guts for it.”
She blurts out a laugh. “No guts, no glory?”
“Sounds about right.” I hand her more books.
She cradles the stack against her chest. “Thanks, big bro. That helps.”
“Good. Now, get me some food before I faint dead away.”
She pushes me with a gentle shove. “You got that from the back of one of my books, didn’t you?”
I flash her a mischievous grin. “Maybe.”
“You’re the worst.” She grabs her jacket and keys.
As we walk out, the door across the hall opens, and a girl around my sister’s age smiles at us. “Hi, Kinsley.”
My sister points at me. “Sarah, this is my obnoxious brother, Luke. The hockey player I told you about.”
I side elbow Kins, evoking a satisfying grunt as I shake Sarah’s hand. But as her brother, I’m feeling kind of proud that Kins talked about me. “Nice to meet you, Sarah.”
She pauses our shake as she leans in to study me, then her eyes widen. “Wait here a minute. Don’t go anywhere!” She dashes into her room, leaving her door cracked, but not enough to see what she’s doing.
I shoot a questioning glance at Kinsley. But she shrugs and holds her hands up, indicating she hasn’t a clue.
Sarah rushes back out, holding a magazine to her chest. “My brother just got drafted by the Rangers, so of course, I had to get a copy of USA Hockey Today to clip the article.”
She flips open the magazine to a two-page spread, then hands it to me. I’m expecting to see a resemblance between the guy in the picture and Sarah, but then I realize the full headshot is me. And I recognize the other pictures, too. My eyes drift to the byline.
Sophie’s name sits right there under the headline. And it’s in a national magazine.
Sarah holds a pen out with a shy smile. “Do you mind signing it?”
Everything inside me locks up. Like a robot, I scribble a loose signature on the main photo and hand her pen back.
“Thanks! Can we get an us-ie?” She stares at me with expectant eyes and a wide grin.
Kinsley snorts, then laughs at the Ted Lasso reference.
“Sure.” I sound about as deadpan as I can get. Doesn’t matter now, does it? If Sarah figured out who I was, anyone can. Am I foolish to hope my father has no interest in hockey and won’t ever see it?
Sarah whips around to stand next to me while my sister scans the article.
“Sophie wrote this?”
I grunt while fake-smiling for Sarah’s picture.
“She’s a really great writer.” She hands the magazine back to Sarah. “I even made it in there.”
I snag the magazine before Sarah can take it back. “Where?”
Kinsley leans in and points to a paragraph on the second page. “There. I thought you would have seen it already.”
Sure enough, Sophie mentions that I have a younger sister, who I “raised after our mother’s death,” making me sound so noble. Or something.
But right now, I’m feeling anything but noble. I’d tear the magazine to smithereens if it would make it go away permanently. The article even states that Kins is a student at Columbia.
“No, I didn’t want to read about myself.”
Kins does her eye roll thing again. “So humble.”
I hand the magazine to Sarah and drag Kins along by the elbow. “Let’s go get ramen.”
Kinsley gives Sarah an awkward wave over her shoulder. “Don’t mind him. He’s always this way.”
I grunt at her comment but keep us moving toward the stairs. I need air. I need to think this through. I need to know why Sophie would do something like this.
Yet, I already know, don’t I? This is even better than a column in the local paper, isn’t it? National exposure will go a long way in getting her that and more, I’d imagine.
As much as I’d love to see her realize her dream, I just wish it didn’t come at my and my sister’s expense.
Now, I have to tell Kinsley about our father’s release from prison. Because if he sees the article, he’ll know where to find her. And that makes the already sinking feeling in my gut plunge a lot deeper.
Once we get our orders and sit down, I lean back in the hard plastic booth, close my eyes, and try to center myself. The anger I’ve kept buried is like a pot of pasta about to boil over. I can’t lose control. Not now.
When I open my eyes, Kinsley’s staring at me. “What’s going on?”
I consider my words as she slurps up ramen noodles. “I got a notification that our father was released from prison to a halfway house several weeks ago.”
She wiggles in her seat and glances around. “Okaaaay. So?”
“If he sees that article, he’ll recognize me and know where you are.”
She drops her gaze to the bowl in front of her, running her chopsticks in a circle through the noodles. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Yes!” I run a hand over my mouth, schooling my temper. The woman at the table next to us darts a glance my way and frowns.
I lower my voice to a whisper. “Yes, that’s a bad thing. I don’t want him back in our lives.”
She drops her chopsticks into the bowl. “Why not? He’s the only parent we have now, Luke.”
I grunt. “We don’t need him.”
She presses her lips into a line and knits her brows together, which tells me the wheels of her brain are working overtime.
“But what if I want to meet him?”
I almost choke on a bite of noodles. “That’s a bad idea too. I may have been young, but I remember how much better things were for us after he left. Mom became happy.”
Doubt clouds her eyes, but she nods. “Okay.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket, so I tug it out.
SOPHIE: The roses are gorgeous! Thank you, Luke. And yes, it’s all okay. I’m looking forward to our date!
The mix of emotions rising in me brings a growl deep in my throat.
Kinsley snatches the phone right out of my hand.
“Hey, that’s private.” I make a grab for her wrist but her other hand swoops in for a switch.
“Not if it makes you react like that.” She holds my phone behind her as she twists around in the booth to read it, then meets my gaze. “Roses? Couldn’t you be more original? And one would think this would make you happy. She’s clearly into you. Are you two official?”
I just realized my sister does a similar kind of word spew as Sophie, only hers is cute whereas Kins’ is confrontational and makes my head spin.
“The roses are from one of Mom’s bushes. And no, we are most definitely not official. Nor will we be.” I busy myself with another bite of my meal that’s turning out to be much better than those cheap ramen packages at the store. Maybe Kins will get the hint that I don’t want to talk about it.
She hands my phone back. “Okay, let me get this straight. You went to the trouble to give Sophie roses from Mom’s bushes—nice touch, by the way—and asked her out on a date, but you have no intention of making things serious. That sounds like a bone-headed hockey move to me.”
My appetite walks out the door with the hipster who has no business wearing pants that tight. I toss my chopsticks into my bowl. “I told Sophie at the start of this to not use any shots of my full face because I didn’t want to risk our father finding us. She told me when that first went to print in Sarabella that it was an accident. She didn’t mean to upload that picture to the paper, which, fortunately, has a limited reach in Florida.”
“Okay. If it was an accident, why are you still mad at her?”
“She knew how I felt, yet she goes and lands a feature in a national magazine with the same article and photo. She’s no better than that reporter who dug up the dirt on our father after Mom’s accident. All she ever wanted was her own column, and now she has a byline in a national magazine.”
Her mouth makes a circle with her silent ‘oh.’ “Are you sure she did it on purpose?”
I lean back in my seat and snort. “How else would that happen? And why are you defending her?”
She lifts her shoulders. “It just doesn’t sound like her.”
“You hardly even know her.”
“And you do? Are you sure this is something she’d do? Because I didn’t get that vibe from her.”
A weariness I’m accustomed to feeling after a game settles over me, but without the satisfaction of knowing I played my best. “You always look for the good in people, Kins. But it’s not always there.”
“Then talk to her. Listen to her side of the story.”
“I did that once. Gave her the benefit of the doubt. You know the saying, fool me once…”
“But what if it’s not what you think, and you miss out on something great?”
“I can’t trust her, Kins. And without that, there can’t be anything between us.” My words settle into my gut, making the contents of my stomach turn sour. Speaking the truth out loud doesn’t make the situation any more palatable, but it does clarify what I need to do.
And I’m not sure what hurts more—feeling betrayed by Sophie or knowing this connection we have can’t go anywhere. It’s not fixable in my playbook. I took a risk that might bring trouble from the past. Best to cut my losses now and be done with it.
Besides, I need to focus on what’s in front of me—getting promoted to an NHL team. That will go a long way in securing mine and Kinsley’s future.
I pick up my phone and shoot Sophie a reply that shreds my soul.
LUKE: Consider the roses a congratulations for your article going national. I have to cancel our date, though. I’m sure you understand why.
My appetite flies away, along with the message I just sent. Now it’s my turn to aimlessly swirl ramen noodles around the bowl with my chopsticks.
Kinsley is quiet again…until she isn’t. “You sure this isn’t about something else?”
Her unexpected question lands somewhere dead center in my heart, but that’s a place I stopped visiting a long time ago. I frown at her. “What are you talking about? What else would it be?”
She lifts one shoulder. “I don’t know. I’m just asking a question.”
I lean against the back of the booth. “Okay, besides the fact that I can’t trust her, I don’t have time for a relationship. Gabe told me I may get promoted. That means more traveling.”
Kins smile brings some comfort to the ache in my chest. “Congrats, big bro. That’s amazing!” Her expression turns deadpan. “But no, that’s not it.”
I blurt out a short laugh. More like a snort. “Then you tell me, because you clearly think you know the answer.”
“Maybe.”
“But you’re not going to tell me.”
She shakes her head. “That would defeat the purpose.”
I’m beginning to think Kinsley missed her true calling in psychology. The thing is, she’s dangerously close to a truth I barely acknowledge myself these days. Necessity required I bury that part of me so I could return to hockey.
“Think whatever you want, Kins, but there’s no other reason.”
She points at me with her chopsticks. “Now I know I’m right.”