Page 90 of Behind the Net

Jamie just glares at Rory, who shifts in his chair. There’s a flash of vulnerability in his eyes before he blinks it away.

“He’s the guy I’m scoring against.” Rory’s smile is sardonic. “Why would I be friends with a guy like that?”

Jamie folds his arms over his chest. “Sounds like a lesson from the Rick Miller school of hockey.”

“Yep.” Rory’s eyebrows bob once, and there’s a humorless slant to his lips as he surveys the bar.

There’s a long moment where it feels like they both want to say more.

“Your dad is Rick Miller?” I ask Rory, eyebrows rising to my hairline.

Rick Miller is one of the greats in Canadian hockey. He’d be one of my dad’s favorite players if he didn’t have such a reputation for being an asshole to the press and to fans.

Rory levels me with a dry look. “The one and only.”

“Wow.”

He shrugs. “Don’t be impressed, Pippa. He’s just a regular guy.”

I think about Jamie and how intimidated I was by him back in high school, and even a few months ago, and how kind, sweet, and protective he is beneath his surly exterior.

Something tells me Rick Miller isn’t kind and sweet, though.

“We should get going.” Jamie glances down at me. “I have early training, and your interview is tomorrow.”

My stomach knots. Right, the interview for the marketing position. I’ve been preparing for it for two weeks, going over all my school notes, rehearsing with Hazel, and fending off excited phone calls from my parents asking if I’m ready.

“Songbird.” Jamie’s using the voice he only uses when we’re together, like he’s forgotten Rory is sitting on the other side of the table. “You’ll kill it, if that’s what you want.”

That’s not what I’m worried about, but I don’t see any other path. Any other options are—

No. Just no.

I force a quick smile, and across the table, Rory’s watching us with a curious look. The server passes behind him, and Jamie lifts a hand to get her attention.

“Can we have the bill, please?” he asks her.

She smiles. “It’s already settled up. Have a good night.” She leaves, and we look to Rory, who just winks at me.

“Thank you,” I tell him. “You didn’t have to get our dinner.”

He lifts a shoulder, getting up. “It was the least I could do.”

I’m not sure what he means by that, and I wonder if it has something to do with the way things ended with him and Jamie.

Jamie clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable with Rory paying for anything for him. “Thanks,” he mutters, and I hide my grin as we leave.

Outside the bar, Rory tips his head down the street. “My hotel is this way.”

“Okay.” I smile at him. “Thanks for the fun hang.”

He gives me a warm squeeze and a quick kiss on the cheek. I don’t have a brother but I’m pretty sure this is what it would feel like.

“Let’s do it again, okay?” He pulls away and grins down at me.

I nod. “You bet.”

He turns to Jamie, who’s staring with irritation. “And Streicher, you were there too, I guess.”

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