3. Sienna
SIENNA
“Whoa, you look like you had a good night,” I tease when Garrett finally joins me in the diner we’d agreed to meet at for breakfast.
There was me worrying about oversleeping after all the stress of yesterday, but it turns out it was totally unnecessary. I was awake as the sun rose this morning—kinda the side effect of not having any blinds or curtains yet. But I woke with excitement and determination buzzing through my veins.
After making myself a coffee, I got to work, and I can now proudly say that my bathroom and bedroom are fully unpacked.
I still have a few random boxes to work through, but my apartment is already looking like a home.
My head is also spinning with ideas for how I can decorate and furnish it.
My brain is apparently failing to understand that I don’t have enough money to buy anything for the place right now, after the moving costs.
It’s going to be fun to plan, though, and shop for, even if I can’t actually purchase anything.
“Don’t,” Garrett warns, holding his hand up to stop me from commenting on the fact that he’s just lowered his ass down opposite and failed to drop his hood or take his sunglasses off.
“Ah, is partying as a graduate different from being a student?”
I take his grunt as an agreement.
He drops his head onto his folded forearms as I scan the menu.
“Shall I order for you?”
His mumbled reply sounds suspiciously like, “Go for it.” So I do exactly that when the server comes over.
Thankfully, he perks up a little once there’s a mug of coffee in front of him.
“What time did you get in?”
“That’s a strong assumption to make that I haven’t come straight from a club,” he mutters.
“And to think, everyone assumes you’re a statistics nerd,” I tease.
The glare he shoots me would make most people cower, but I know my little brother better than anyone, and while he might try to appear scary, deep down, he’s nothing but a fluffy teddy bear.
“And for your information, I did go home last night. Just not to Ashley’s,” he says, mentioning his old school friend he was meant to be crashing with.
“Oh? Did my little brother get lucky last night?”
Heat surges to his cheeks, and it’s only then that I notice the bright red hickey on his neck.
“Oh my god, you met a vampire.”
A smirk kicks up one side of his mouth. “He was certainly good at sucking.”
My chin drops. “You did not just say that.”
“I absolutely did. I’m not lying, either.”
“Surprised you remember,” I mutter, taking a sip of my coffee.
“That’s how good it was. Not even copious amounts of alcohol could make me forget.”
“Well then. Does he have any friends?”
“No idea. It’s not like I’m gonna see him again.”
“You didn’t get his number?” I balk. Surely, anyone who was that good deserves a spot in Garrett’s contacts. You know, in case of emergency when he’s in town.
“Why? I’m going to be back in Boston in a few days,” he reasons.
“But you’re coming back for the holidays, right? You could have called him up for a repeat.”
“I guess,” he mutters. “So, how was your night?” he asks, trying to divert the conversation.
“Wild. I ordered a burger and fries, managed to drag my ass to the shower, and then swiftly passed out.”
He chuckles. “Wow, calm down, sis. Next, you’ll be telling me you even managed to take your makeup off and put your retinol on.”
I gasp. “I do not need to use retinol yet.”
He quirks a brow. “You’re almost thirty.”
“No, I’m only just twenty-eight,” I argue.
“Sounds pretty damn close to thirty to me.”
“Shut up,” I sulk.
“And you do realize that I helped pack up your bathroom yesterday. I saw your retinol, hyaluronic acid, and facial SPF.”
I put my mug down and cross my arms over my chest.
“There is nothing wrong with a good face care routine,” I state, making him laugh. “You’ll be eating your words when you turn up for a visit one day and discover you look older than me.”
“Pfft, hardly. I get weekly facials and infrared treatment.”
“Of course you do,” I mutter.
The arrival of our breakfasts puts an end to our bickering.
While Garrett dives straight in, stuffing his face with waffles and bacon, I sit back with a smile.
“What?” he asks when he notices me watching him. “Have I splashed maple syrup on my forehead or something?”
I shake my head. “I’ve missed this. Missed you.”
His eyes go all sappy. “Aw, Sisi. You going soft on me?”
I roll my eyes. “Careful, or I’ll be sending you back to Boston early.”
“As if.”
We continue chatting about our lives as we eat our breakfast. And by the time Garrett has finished his, he no longer looks like he’s only seconds away from vomiting on the table.
“Amazing what coffee and bacon can do, isn’t it?” he says when I point it out.
“So you’re good to spend the rest of the day unpacking, then?”
He wrinkles his nose. “Uh…haven’t you finished that already?”
I almost have, but I don’t tell him that. The truth is, I’ve got a surprise—or a few, actually—planned for us.
“You came here to help me, remember? I vividly recall you saying, and I quote, ‘whatever you need, Sisi, I’m your man. You tell me what to do, and I’ll make it happen.’”
“You shouldn’t listen to me when I’m drunk,” he deadpans.
“It was seven-thirty in the morning.”
“Did you not see the state of me earlier?”
“On a work day,” I point out. My little brother might like to party on occasion, but he takes nothing more seriously than his work. Well, maybe hockey. “I’ll be in New York this year when the Vipers have a matchup.”
“Yeah?” he asks, his face lighting up as we head out into the fall sun.
“Yep. You got space in that apartment of yours for me?”
“You know it. It isn’t the same watching hockey without you. None of my friends are as offensive during a game as you.”
“Then they don’t care enough. I can’t help my passion just oozing out of me.”
He chuckles as we reach my car.
“Passion, right.”
“Do you want a ride or not?”
He opens my trunk and throws his duffel inside before climbing into my passenger seat.
“I can’t wait to do some more unpacking,” I lie as I put the car into drive and pull out of the space.
“Really?”
“No. I’m fucking done with it. But no one else is going to do it.”
It takes longer than I was expecting for Garrett to notice that I take a right out of the diner instead of a left and then head in the opposite direction of my apartment.
“Sisi, have you forgotten where you live?” he eventually asks.
“Nope.”
“Then where are we going?”
“Surprise.”
When I glance over, I find intrigue written across his face.
It’s another twenty minutes before he gets his answer.
“Oh my god, you haven’t managed to get us appointments,” he breathes when I pull up to a spa hotel he’s been wanting to visit for a while.
“Who has the best sister in the world?”
“Seriously. You have?”
“A girl I trained with recently got a job there. She owed me a favor. I hear they have excellent anti-aging treatments.”
“Ignoring that. You are the best sister in the world. Thank you,” he says, excitedly pulling me in for an awkward one-armed hug.
We have the best afternoon at the spa. The full-body massage was more than needed after the number of boxes I’ve lifted and furniture I’ve moved in the last two weeks.
When we leave, I feel like a whole new woman, and I’m very glad I splurged on a treat for both of us. And of course, the surprises don’t end there.
I don’t say a word about our plans for the evening. Every time Garrett says something, I lie about having boxes to unpack.
It becomes very obvious it’s bullshit when we walk into my new apartment a little while later and he realizes that I’ve pretty much unpacked everything.
“Oh shit, this looks incredible,” he says, his eyes scanning the space. Okay, so it’s a little empty, but I’m gonna have to get used to that, because I can’t afford to fill my apartment with the kind of furniture it deserves right now. “Is there anything left to do?”
“Well…honestly, no, not really.”
“Oooookay. So, we’re just hanging out then?”
“Yeah, I thought we could chill, watch the game, order takeout.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“I do have one box to unpack, though,” I confess before disappearing to my bedroom to collect it.
“What’s that?” he asks the second I reappear.
“Open it and find out,” I say, lowering it to his lap.
He narrows his eyes on me for a beat, but his curiosity wins out, and he’s soon flipping open the flaps and gazing inside.
“Sienna,” he breathes when he discovers the tickets for tonight’s game.
“Happy birthday.”
“My birthday is over a month away.”
“Yeah, I know. But this seemed like the perfect opportunity to celebrate it, seeing as your day always gets engulfed by the holidays. And anyway, you couldn’t visit and not go to a game. It would be practically illegal.”
“Illegal,” he mutters. “Shit, these seats are insane.”
“Helps having friends in high places.”
“I still can’t believe you get to hang out with the team whenever you want.”
That’s far from how my life is right now. But I can’t deny that considering a handful of the LA Vipers hockey players are friends by association is pretty damn cool.
I’m dragged from my thoughts when Garrett’s squeal of delight rips through the apartment.
“Holy shit. This has the signature of every player on the roster. Sienna, this is…I can’t. I—” He gives up trying to tell me how awesome I am and instead jumps from the couch and pulls me in for a hug.
His strong arms, along with his familiar scent, wrap around me, and I smile against his chest. I really have missed having him around recently.
“I love you, sis. This is fucking amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I can’t wear it tonight. Imagine if I threw a drink down it and ruined it.”
“You mean you didn’t pack a jersey just in case,” I tease.
“You said we couldn’t go to the game, so no, I didn’t.”
“Good thing I saw that coming, huh,” I say. “There’s more in the box.”
He pulls out a brand-new jersey with his favorite player’s name printed across the back.
“I can’t believe I’m not going to get to see him play,” he says sadly, staring at Killer’s name. “How’s he doing?”
“I mean, we’re hardly BFFs. But I think he’s doing okay. Well, as good as you can be when you’ve torn your ACL and can no longer skate.”
“He was lucky to be able to get surgery straight away. Fucking sucks for the team, though. His stats this year were looking incredible. From what my spreadsheet was showing—”
“Are you still doing that?” I balk. I kinda assumed he’d stop when he moved away. From as early as I can remember, Garrett has been tracking player and team stats and analyzing the shit out of them. Honestly, he’s such a fucking nerd. Most days, it amazes me that we’re related.
“Of course,” he says as if the thought of not doing it is utterly absurd.
“Just promise me you won’t pull it out tonight. Just enjoy the game.”
“I can’t make those kinds of promises,” he teases. “We’re gonna need to get ready soon if we want to catch the warm-ups.”
“That we are,” I agree. “The bathroom and guest room are all yours. Be ready in an hour?”
“You got it.” I walk toward my bedroom but stop when he says my name.
“Thank you, Sienna.” When I turn around, he’s hugging the signed shirt to his chest.
“You’re welcome. I can’t believe you thought we were going to miss the game. Don’t you know me at all?”