Page 80 of Goalie Interference

He’d be more relaxed if he wasn’t worried about his dog. ThenIstarted to worry about what I’d make and if he’d think it was a date, or just a friends get-together. What did I really want?

I could cook, but I had a limited repertoire. I decided to make lemon chicken, a salad, and my one impressive dish, risotto. I’d buy some dessert. Just not something with too much chocolate and flowers, right?Uggh.The best reason to talk over what we were doing together was so that I didn’t have to spend timeworrying about what to wear and if I should put candles on the table. Would that shift what we had from friends with benefits to dating?

Was it worth risking feelings for Remy to make sure I’d moved on from being tied to Ollie to being my own person ready to explore the world of dating again? Or was I just creating new bonds? Did I want that? When I knew the timeline was limited?

I was driving myself crazy, for sure.

I put on a dress that was flattering but not fussy. Since I was working in the kitchen, I tied my hair back, but I put in earrings and used a bit of makeup. Doing my best to not cross the line too far into dating, without being casual enough to look like dating wasn’t in the picture. Frankly, it was ridiculous.

I was preparing the chicken when Cash walked in. I hadn’t seen him in days, not since shortly after Christmas. I’d asked if I’d been missed, and he’d reluctantly admitted not really. It hurt, but that was assuaged by the fact that I’d actually enjoyed my own holiday. I didn’t think he understood how differently Dad treated us.

“Hey, sis. What smells so good?”

I dropped the knife. “What are you doing here?”

He grinned. “I live here.”

“I know, but you’ve been at the studio nonstop.”

He shrugged. “Needed a break, so I cut out early.”

Great timing.

He looked into the dining room, table set for two people. “Hmm. You didn’t expectme, so who’s coming over?”

“Remy,” I admitted.

“Is this a date?”

That was the million-dollar question. “I invited him for dinner.”

“If you’re planning to make a move on him, I’ll make myself scarce.”

I almost said yes, but another look at him and I paused. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin was sallow. He’d been working too hard, and if he was taking a break, he either really needed it or things weren’t going well. I couldn’t boot him out of his own home when he was this tired.

“No, I’ll add another place.” My brother let me stay here without paying much rent, though he did get a built-in caretaker, and had renovated the carriage house for me. I was grateful. Plus, I loved him. Maybe it was a sign that I should keep things casual with Remy.

“I’ll order in. I don’t want to make things awkward.”

“Grab a drink and sit down. You look exhausted.”

I sent a quick text to Remy, letting him know Cash was joining us. Cash settled back on a stool at the island with a beer and a sigh.

“Hey, what happened to Trinity? I came home one day and she was gone.”

He shrugged. “I told her I would be working long hours. Then I had to tell her I couldn’t message while I was in the studio. I couldn’t meet her for lunch or dinner or drinks, and she couldn’t watch me work. She got bored and left.” Not hard to understand why the guy remained single.

“She mustn’t have been too upset since she didn’t leave a mess or do any damage.” Sometimes these things ended explosively. The woman who’d thrown plates, for example.

Cash rotated the bottle of beer on the counter. “I bought her a first-class ticket back and said I’d see her when I was in LA again.”

“Uh huh. And when are you back in LA?”

“No idea. I’ll be tied up here and in Nashville for the next few months.”

“Maybe you need to take a break. Not from Trinity, but from work. A longer one than tonight.”

He waved a hand. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

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