Page 38 of Power Play

She takes a deep breath, smiles, and interlocks her hand with mine again.

“Now it is,” she says just as the doors open. I lead her out into the lobby, following the hall down toward the breakfast room. In the corner of the dining area sits my idiot best friend with three plates in front of him and two glasses of juice. He’s chomping away, minding his own business, unaware of the bomb that’s about to be dropped on him.

Truth is, I'm not really afraid to talk to Tyson about it. He’s protective, but not in the unrealistic, my-sister-wears-a-chastity-belt, bring-me-a-dowry kind of way. He just wants what’s best for her.

But as we get closer and closer to him, I suddenly feel my nerves kicking in.

What if I’m not what’s best for her?

His eyes find us, then our interlocked hands, and I realize it’s too late to go back now.

We make it to his table, and he’s completely frozen. His eyes move from me, to her, to our hands, back to me.

“H-hey…guys…” he says, his eyebrows knitting together. The half-eaten piece of bagel in his hand drops to one of the plates in front of him, and he leans back in his chair. “What’s…uh…what’s going on?” he asks.

I feel her grip on me tighten, and she looks up at me. I swallow and face my friend.

“So, uh…I think your sister and I are going to start seeing each other. And we just wanted to be upfront with you about it,” I say, trying to hide the fact that I’m at all nervous. Cool and collected. Smooth like freshly cleaned ice.

Tyson looks at me, eyes wide. He blinks a few times, then his eyes drop to Lo.

“Is that what you want, Lo?” he asks her. Her fingers tighten between mine, but she never takes her eyes off him.

“Yeah,” she says. “I want it, too.”

I can practically feel her nerves pulsing through her, and I wonder what she’s more nervous about—telling her brother or saying yes to me in the first place. I hope it’s the first one.

I look back at Tyson, bracing myself for his response.

He stares at both of us for a moment longer, then picks his bagel up, takes another bite, and nods slowly.

“Alright,” he says, then he just takes another bite and throws back a big gulp of his juice. She looks at me and shrugs, then I turn back to him.

“‘Alright?’” I ask him. “You sure that’s…that’s it?”

He sets his glass down and looks up at us.

“You’re both adults,” he says with a shrug. “And this one…” he says, pointing to Lo, “iswaymore mature than you or I will ever be. She doesn’t do anything without thinking it through—then overthinking it—a million times. She’s a mom. I trust her to make her own decisions,” Tyson says, and I stand there, stunned. But then, he looks directly at me. “But all that to say, if anything happens to her, I’ll kill you. You might be a big, bad ex-pro, but that’s my little sister.”

Ah, there it is.That’s the wholebig-brotherresponse I was looking for.

“Ty, you know I’m not like that,” I tell him. “And you know I will always have her back. And yours.”

Tyson nods.

“I know you’re not like that, but you’ve also been gone a while. You’ve missed a lot. And you’ve also lived a whole other life. And I know about the other gir—” he starts to say but catches himself as my eyes widen. I don’t plan to hide anything from Lo, but I don't want to start dating her by telling her about all the puck bunnies I may or may not have had while in the league.

Regardless, though, I never had a single tangible relationship while I was playing for Spokane. I had women—some that would hang around more than others—but I never had anything meaningful. I never had someone in my life that made me feel like I was worth more than the jersey on my back or the money in my account.

And then I came back to Crooked Creek, and I came back to Lo.

And she looked at me like she had looked at me all those years ago.

Back then, I took it for a teen crush. I was the town sweetheart, professional prospect,

and I had the whole protective thing about me because of Tyson. Now, I guess I’m still those things, but she doesn’t care about any of them, just like she didn’t before. But me? I’m less of the sweetheart, but more protective. Especially after our history together. I need her close by. I need to keep my eye on her. I need her to know that she’s safe with me. And I need to find out what really happened that night.

All in good time, though, I remind myself. She has to trust me first.

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