Chapter 13
SYLAS
“You look like shit” is how Thea greets me when I slump down on the chair in front of her.
My sister and I stay busy, so we hardly have time for each other these days. Once a month, we make an effort to grab a meal and catch up, which is exactly what we’ve come to do at In A Jam.
I shove my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose and give her an indolent wave. “Morning.”
“Morning?” I hear the amusement in her voice, but I avoid eye contact. “It’s three in the afternoon. Did you just wake up?”
Slouching back on my chair, I pick up my menu and browse through the items.
After I left Anna’s, I went home, showered, and laid in bed, hoping I’d fall asleep, but every few minutes, flashbacks of last night emerged. Every time I attempted to shut the memories down, another would pop up.
Instead of fighting against them or trying to sleep, I let myself get immersed in what I could remember.
After getting a proper look at my new tattoo and giving it a clean, I looked her up on Instagram then spent an ungodly amount of time staring at every picture. It’s lame, really, but I couldn’t stop clicking. I also looked through her baking account.
She wasn’t kidding when she said she bakes everything. There were different types of dessert, and they all looked so damn pretty and delicious.
Along with those two accounts, I found out she has a VSCO.
I know Thea has one, but I’d never been enticed to download it until just a few hours ago.
And doing so led me to spend a few more hours skimming through each picture she’s ever uploaded.
They all look like they’re behind the scenes, the ones that didn’t make the cut on Instagram. Regardless, they’re just as pretty.
Because I spent a pathetic amount of time stalking her, I had to push Thea’s and my reservation.
“Yeah, I just woke up.” I fake a yawn.
She grows quiet, forcing me to look up at her.
She’s wearing this creepy Cheshire-like grin on her face.
“Does this have something to do with the hottie with the body in the green dress? The girl you told Mom and Dad is your girlfriend?” She hikes a brow, inquisitive eyes boring into me.
Thea was at the auction, so I know she witnessed Anna bidding on me.
“The girl you asked out, according to Marc.”
Dammit, Marcello.
“She’s not my girlfriend. Mom and Dad haven’t shut up about Florence and me since we were in the womb. You know I’m over their bullshit; I had to say something.”
“Yeah, I figured as much. But that aside, did you really ask her out on a date? Like an actual date where no sex was involved?”
“We’re not going to talk about it.”
“But—”
“We said we’d never talk about our sex lives. So, let’s not talk about it.”
“That was before I found out you were going to hang out with a girl in a way that didn’t involve clothes coming off,” she retorts and leans forward, her face dimming into a supportive, soft expression—or as tender as she can make it. Because she’s far from soft and tender. “Who is she?”
Thea and I usually don’t talk about these kinds of things because what person wants to hear about who their sibling is fucking? I don’t ask her, and she doesn’t ask me. Though I know she’s heard about me on campus, which isn’t my fault because people love to talk.
“How do you know clothes didn’t come off?” I arch a brow.
“I don’t, but you don’t look like you had one of those nights.”
“What kind of night do you think I had?”
“I don’t know, you tell me.” She pauses, taking a sip of her water. “Marc said you looked a little jealous about Alex wanting to ask her out,” she says, a lofty grin curling her lips. “Were you? Does someone have a crush?”
Fucking Marc. They just had to be best friends, didn’t they.
I roll my eyes. “It’s—it’s not…” I stumble and hesitate. What’s wrong with me? “It’s not like that. I didn’t have sex with her last night because…because I don’t need to have sex with every girl I hang out with. I’m done talking about this. Plus, we were drunk.”
There is no way in hell I’d do anything with Anna in that state.
She snickers. “You have a crush. How fucking cute.”
My heart does that weird manic thing where it beats out of control to the point it feels like it’s going to explode. My hands sweat at the thought, and a flashback of me holding her hand when she was about to get her tattoo surfaces.
“I have to tell you a secret,” Anna whispers, but she doesn’t do a good job because the tattoo artist, Anya, side-eyes her before focusing back on getting everything ready.
“Yeah, tell me.”
“I’m a little nervous. Can you hold my hand?”
“Of course.” I immediately take it in mine, intertwining our fingers. “Why don’t you keep your eyes on me?”
She nods, then says, “I’m really glad I’m doing this with you.”
My lips feel heavy as they lift higher, my face warm and body tingly. “Me too. I’m happy it’s you.”
“It’s not a crush,” I deadpan.
“Sure,” Thea drawls mockingly, her expression morphing into a thoughtful, tentative one. “Mom and Dad are angry about your fake girlfriend.”
“They’ll be okay.”
“I don’t think they will be.” She drags her finger along the rim of her glass. “You should’ve seen them, Sy. Mom was speaking in Portuguese, and Dad had that look on his face.”
“It’ll be fine. They’ll get over it.” I don’t know how much I believe that, but she’s my fake girlfriend; it’s not like I’m getting married to her.
Soon, I’ll tell them we broke up and that’ll be the end of it.
Or they’ll act like we’re not together and never bring it up.
“Anyway, do you think Dad will disown me if I bail on the Christmas party?”
I don’t care for big celebrations. I don’t even care for my birthday, but if there’s one holiday I hate, it’s Christmas.
Every year, Mom and Dad throw the most over-the-top party on Christmas Eve.
They invite all our family members and their friends and make a show of what a happy family we are.
Thea and I have no other choice but to play into it, smiling as our parents boast about us as if they don’t spend every minute of the day behind closed doors criticizing everything we do.
“Kiss your trust fund goodbye. Matter of fact, expect all your accounts to be frozen. I bet they’ll even block your access to the penthouse,” she answers cheerfully, but behind the levity, the seriousness is loud and clear.
I sigh. “I’ll be there.”
“Look on the bright side, I’ll be there and now that they think you have a girlfriend, they’ll leave you alone and Florence will fuck off.”
“God, I hope so.” I remove my sunglasses and rub my tired eyes. The action makes me think of Anna and how she told me she couldn’t sleep with her contacts on. Then she had me look for her glasses and I laid them on the sofa so I could grab them easily when she woke up.
“You and this girl—”
“Her name is Anna, and there is no us. Move on.”
She peers up at me from her lashes, a supercilious smirk on her face. “But have you?”
“Have I what?” I ask, skimming the menu.
“Moved on?”
“What is there to move on from? We just hung out. Friends do that all the time. The same way you and Marc do, unless there’s something I need to know about?”
Her face scrunches. “Gross, no. I’m just saying. You seem off.”
“I’m tired. It was a long night. Drop it.” The pulse in my temple throbs painfully. “What are you getting?”
She’s staring at me, but I don’t look at her. I don’t know what she expects to hear, but there’s nothing to say. While last night was one of the best nights I’ve ever had, it was nothing more than two people hanging out.
We don’t have practice today but after lunch earlier, I had to get on the ice. I needed to think of anything but Thea’s words.
I don’t have a crush. I’m not sure exactly what a crush would entail, but I definitely don’t have one.
I hear a whipping sound but I’m too late to move because I feel it smack my back. “What the hell are you thinking about? I’ve never seen you this distracted. Focus,” Marc warns, removing his glove and helmet to wipe the sweat off his forehead.
“I’m focused.”
I asked Marc to meet me at the arena. We’ve been here for almost two hours, working on drills and stickhandling. We’re not pushing too hard, seeing as I’m still hungover.
We finish off the final thirty minutes with 1v1. Him on defense, me on offense. Even though my head pounds, I manage to score on him.
As we skate over to where our waters are, I’m praying the conversation doesn’t stray to the elephant in the room. But it’s stupid of me to think he won’t ask. This is my best friend; he doesn’t give a fuck.
“Was your date so bad last night it’s making you play like shit?” I aim my bottle in his direction, squeezing it, but he manages to skate back before the water lands on him. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“No, this has nothing to do with my date. I told you I’m hungover. And if I played like shit, why did I score on you?”
He snorts. “Hungover? You’re full of shit. I’ve seen you play hungover. This has nothing to do with that.”
It was only one time, but I made sure to work hard so Coach wouldn’t bust my ass. He still caught on and I got punished for it.
“Also, what the fuck?” I give another squeeze of my bottle. “Why’d you tell Thea about Anna?”
He shrugs, dodging the stream of water. “She asked, and you know I tell her everything. She was going to find out regardless. You told your parents Anna is your girlfriend, you dumb fuck.”
“You know when you said you’d be my best friend, I didn’t think you’d make her your best friend, too.” I glare at him. “God, do you two really talk about everything?”
“Everything.” He blows me a kiss. “Don’t overdo your jealousy. You already did enough of that yesterday.”
“I wasn’t jealous. I was annoyed that Alex continued to ask when I’d told him to fuck off.” And he still had the audacity to follow her on Instagram. I don’t think now’s the time to mention that because he’ll think I’m jealous, which I’m not.
“Thea was right, you’re crushing so hard.” He laughs and skates away when I throw my bottle at his head. It misses him completely, plopping hard against the ice.
“I’m not.” I skate after him with my stick, but he swerves left and right, laughing maniacally.
“Sylas has a crush! Sylas has a crush!” he shouts, his voice and the sound of skates slicing against the ice reverberating around the empty arena.
I stop chasing after him, not sure why I even began. Now he’s really going to assume I like her. “You’re a childish fuck.”
“And you’re a stupid fuck.” He skates idly up next to me, picking up my bottle and tossing it over. “So what if you like her? What’s wrong with that?”
I think about it hard and really let it settle. What is wrong with that?
“We hardly know each other. I met her about eight days ago. We’re too busy to make it work.” I remove my helmet, running my fingers through my sweat-drenched hair. “I don’t know if she likes me like that. How do I even know if I like like her?”
“Dio.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. Then he fixes me with a look that screams You’re fucking stupid. “Get to know her. Time is just an illusion. Make space in your calendar. And yes, you dumb fuck, you have a crush. Who gets matching tattoos with a girl they hardly know?”
“We were drunk,” I counter pathetically.
He saw it in the locker room and asked about it. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.
“Regardless, you have a crush. Own it.”
“How can I own it when I’m not even sure I really do? We’re not going to stand here and act like Anna isn’t hot because we both know she is. What if this is just me lusting because she’s attractive?” I’m not trying to sound like an ass, I’m genuinely curious.
I’ve never been in a relationship. I have nothing against them, but it’s never been something I want.
But…I don’t know…I kind of like the idea of spending more time with Anna.
We don’t need to be undressed for it to happen.
We could talk about anything and everything and I’d be okay with that.
We wouldn’t even need to talk, we could just watch a movie and maybe cuddle. Jesus, since when do I like to do that?
He hums and scratches the back of his head. “I don’t know. Why don’t you find out?”
“How?” I pause, picking up my phone as it vibrates with a text.
Dad: If Anna isn’t working, let’s have dinner tomorrow.
Dad: I’d like to get to know your girlfriend.
“Why do you look like you’re about to pass out?”
I show him my phone.
“Let me guess, he’s not asking.” I nod and he rolls his eyes. “Sounds like my dad.”
Our dads go way back and have a lot in common. They love money and the ability to tell people what to do.
He looks pensive for a moment until his entire demeanor brightens. “Take her. Play up the whole charade, get to know her, and if you fall for her then you fall. If you don’t then at least you gave it a shot and then you can fake break up.”
“She works a lot, and she didn’t agree to keep this up.” I can’t imagine Anna wanting to keep pretending to date me or spend time with my parents.
He shrugs. “It’s either you do it or your dad knows you lied. You know he won’t stop until you comply.”
I hate how right he is.
“And the solution to her work issue is to pay her,” he suggests simply. “Tell her to take some days off until you figure this out. Bam! Your problem is solved. You’re welcome.”
“You act like it’s that easy.” Though it does sound like it is, but would Anna agree?
“I’m just saying, she must need the money. It can’t hurt to ask. Stop being a little bitch and ask her.”
I flip him off as I consider it.