Page 22 of Wrong Score

Chapter Eight

Rowan

I'm curled up on my couch, a fluffy blanket draped over my legs with Sherlock, my neighbor Hans' Boston Terrier, snuggled against my side. The opening credits of the latest CSI: Las Vegas episode play on the TV, but my attention is split between the exclusive interview with Bex that I don't have and how the Hawkeyes are doing this season.

My sister, Jordan, who's sprawled on the other end of the couch, a bowl of popcorn balancing precariously on her stomach, lets out a relaxed sigh.

"So," Jordan says, tossing a piece of popcorn into the air toward me. I miss the toss, and the popcorn hits me on the corner of my mouth, bouncing off and landing right in front of Sherlock, who gobbles it up before I can steal it back, "How was the trip with the hockey team and the outrageously Sexy Mr. Bexley Townsend?" she asks, wiggling her eyebrows and using that ridiculous title she's given him

Jordan is four years younger than me and put off college in lieu of working her way up as manager of a large hotel in the city. She has her own apartment that she pays for without the help of a roommate. At twenty-four, she's doing so well and I'm proud of her and all that she's accomplished.

I've filled my sister in on all things "Bex" and his growing grudge against me. When I first told her about Bex, she whipped out her phone and internet stalked him immediately. I remember the look on her face the second his old team picture popped up on his Wikipedia page.

"Christ on a cracker… Please tell me this man is single."

"He's twenty years too old for you, Jordan."

"Perfect, I have daddy issues, and so do you,” she smirked. “Want to share him? I call dibs on the bottom half.”

I don't know about daddy issues but our parents divorced when we were little. I don't think Jordan even remembers our parents being married. Our dad got remarried and moved away after he got a big newscasting position in New York. I try really hard not to think about how I ended up choosing a similar career path as him.

Jordan and I didn't hear from him much after he moved, though for some reason he now talks more to our mom than he's ever tried to reach out to us.

I still get texts ever so often.

Dad: Hey, squirt. Mom said you got into Northwestern. Good job!

Dad: Congratulations! Mom said you got an internship with ESPN. That's huge.

Dad: Hey Ro, mom said you got a big promotion at work. You're traveling with the Hawkeyes? I'm proud of you.

But never a phone call or an attempt to reach out and ask how I was doing. Everything went through our mom.

Mom says that dad feels too guilty to reach out himself but that sounds like a bunch of excuses to me.

Jordan tosses up another fluffy piece of popcorn into the air and catches it in her mouth.

I clear my throat, debating whether or not to tell her about what happened on the trip, but I can't keep this from her. I tell Jordan everything. She and I don't have secrets. "It was... eventful, I guess you could say."

Jordan's eyebrows shoot up. "Ooh, do tell. How did it go traveling with Coach Bex? I know he's the Grinch and his heart is three times too small… but his cock must be huge, right?"

"Jordan!" I say, whipping a wide-eyed look in her direction.

"What? The mean ones always have the biggest cocks. It's nature's cruel injustice," she says with a straight face.

"Oh my God Jordan, we are not talking about the size of the man who hates my guts."

Not that I would know hismeasurementsanyway since I’ve never seen it.

Jordan doesn't seem the least bit fazed by the shock written on my face about her choice of conversation topic.

"I guess you're right. Besides, Drew was average sized right? And that guy is the biggest tool of them all," she looks over at me. "Or rather an average-sized tool," she winks.

"Jordan—"

She cuts me off before I can demand she drops this line of questioning. "Here, I'll go get a ruler and you could show me where Drew fallsshort."

She makes a move to pull the bowl of popcorn off her lap but I whip out my leg that I had tucked underneath me and plop it on her thigh. "Don't you dare move a muscle. This is sister bonding time since I haven't seen you in days. We're not talking about anyone's dick size, okay? Can we just watch our show and talk aboutanythingelse?"

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