Page 58 of The Friend Zone

I shake my head. “No. I’m going to figure this out on my own. The Zeta house isn’t your problem.”

Lakyn grabs my shoulders, glaring at me. “Any problem you have is my problem, Bay.”

It doesn’t matter. “No. I’m grateful for the offer, but I can’t let you do that. The king gave you that money to live up to the royal title you’re going to have come next summer.”

She’s so stubborn. “And I already told you how I have more clothes and jewelry and money than I know what to do with. If you’re worried about what King Gilberto might say, I’m going to ask him first. But he told me that money is mine to spend for whatever I want. Including any charitable donations. I?—”

“No, Lake. Seriously this is final. I already applied for a loan with the central chapter of Zeta Theta Beta. It’ll be virtually interest free if it’s to build a new house. It’s technically for new charters, but I’m going to plead my case with them that oursituation is special. I’m also going to look for a sponsorship of some kind to come up with the rest of the money. This is my mess and I’m going to deal with it myself.”

Lakyn exhales a frustrated huff. “You’re so stubborn, Bay.”

“Me?” I snort. “You’re literally the most stubborn person I know.”

“After you, maybe.” She argues.

“I’m still not taking your money, Lake.” I insist.

“Fine,” she bites out. “Have it your way. But remember that if you change your mind, my offer still stands.”

That pretty much does it. Tears well in my eyes at the thought of how much I love my sister. “I’ve missed you so much, Lakey.”

She hugs me even tighter than before, her voice breaking. “Me too. My life with the guys is perfect but I wish you could move in with us.”

“Shut up,” I giggle. “As if I want to hear you being ravished by three hot hockey players every night.”

Lakyn, my sweet, shy little sister offers me the naughtiest smirk I’ve ever seen on her pretty face.

“Don’t knock it until you try it. There’s something to be said about having more than one mouth, two hands and one dick to make you feel good.”

“Lake!” I gasp, the tears of a second ago totally forgotten. “I can’t un-hear this. But I think you might be onto something.”

She immediately latches onto what I just said. “Bay Vivianne Woods, what have you been up to? And don’t pretend you didn’t just imply that you have experience with more than one guy in your bed.”

I’m not a shy person by any means, but I feel heat rising to my face. I’ve always shared all the details of my sex life with my twin sister—leaving out only my inability to come until Jagger helped me figure it out—but the memory of my afternoon withRyker and Jagger makes me hot in all sorts of inappropriate places.

“I don’t know if it counts, but…” I tell Lakyn about it.

“You can bet your cute little ass it counts,” she beams. “And I’m impressed with Ryker. I immediately liked him, but he definitely earned brownie points for this.”

Excitement bubbles in my chest. “Why are you so surprised?”

My sister shrugs. “Ryker is smoking hot and he gives major alpha male vibes. The way he comes off, a little brooding, reminds me of Cash. And my sweet, grumpy goalie was the hardest to convince that having two more men in the relationship could work.”

I remember Lakyn telling me that last spring. “I’m glad Cash came around to the idea of sharing you with Blaze and Luca. I wish I could say that my situation was similar, but the truth is that I don’t think Jagger and Cole care about me. At least not in a romantic way.”

“What makes you say that? Have you seen the way Cole looks at you? And Jagger?—”

I sigh, frustrated. “You’re wrong. Ryker is too. I don’t care if Topher is fucking with them, Lake. If they cared about me, they should’ve at least talked to me. Instead, Cole has been acting like I’m invisible and Jagger dumped me with a ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ text.”

Lake wraps me in another hug. “You’re right. They should have talked to you. But…”

“But what?” I’m shocked she wants to defend them.

“You know Topher better than me, Bay. He found a way to keep me from telling you what he was up to last year. Is it so hard to believe that he might be doing it again?”

As if summoned by our conversation, my ex-boyfriend’s voice drifts into the kitchen.

“Seriously? I’m not invited to your lame-ass party? Is this how you treat your old teammates and frat brothers? Do you think that being professional hockey players makes you better than all of us?”

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