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"Trust me, she isn't telling me. She says I meddle too much. So she hides shit and doesn't tell me anything and tries to do everything on her own," he complains. "I need someone to tell me what the fuck she's doing."
"It ain't gonna be me."
"Why the fuck not?"
"Because your sister is gorgeous."
He growls a warning.
"She's also funny and feisty as hell," I continue, ignoring said warning. "I like her."
"Jesus fucking Christ."
"You're the one who asked me to keep an eye on her."
"I already regret it."
"No, you don't."
"Do so," he mutters like a two-year-old.
"You would have warned me to keep my goddamn hands to myself from the beginning if you wanted me to keep my goddamn hands to myself," I tell him. "You didn't warn me." Nash has this weird idea that he owes me because he took my spot on the Capitals. As if it's his fault I fucked up my knee, and they called him up to take my place. But the fact that he didn't warn me off his sister means he doesn't hate the idea of the two of us hitting it off. I know him well enough to know that much.
"I thought it went without saying," he growls. "She's my sister."
"Which is why I'm being honest with you now. I like her, and I'd like to get to know her. I can't do that if she thinks I'm spying for you."
"I could just tell her that you're spying for me," he points out. "Then she'll shiv you, and there won't be any getting to know anyone."
I scowl at the traffic light. Maybe I'll shiv him and save me and Aspen both a little trouble. "I begin to see why you get on her goddamn nerves."
He laughs quietly. "She loves me."
"You still annoy the hell out of her." I turn off Broadway, headed toward the arena.
"She calls it annoying. I call it worrying," he says. "I raised her. I figure I'm allowed."
I knew they were close, but I never realized he raised her. He's always been tight-lipped as fuck about her. All I knew was that he had a little sister, and he didn't bring her around the team. But I'm thirty-four, and Nash is only a few years younger than I am. Aspen may be young, but she isn't that much younger than us. "How old is she?"
"Twenty-two."
Shit. She's a helluva lot younger than I thought. Twelve years younger than I am.
He sighs. "She was eleven when our parents died. The wreck nearly took her too."
"Jesus." No wonder he's protective of her. He damn near lost everyone in one fell swoop. Which means I need to tread carefully. "Be straight with me, man. Is it going to be a problem with you if I get to know her?"
He hesitates for a long moment. "Is this you asking for permission to date my sister, Diamante?"
"This is me asking if you're going to have a problem with me dating your sister." I don't ask for permission. That's not his to give. It's her choice who she dates. But he's a friend. I owe him a heads-up, at the minimum. I don't want his approval to be one of the things standing between us when she's already suspicious of me. The last thing I need is one more obstacle standing in the way.
"Fucking hell," he growls. "I didn't ask you to watch her so you could get her into your bed."
"Give me a little credit here. You know me better than that." I don't fuck around. In fact, I've never fucked around. He's one of a handful of people who knows that. It's one of the reasons we bonded the few weeks we played together. He didn't party, and neither did I.
We were in the minority. Most of the guys on the team were more than happy to take a different bunny to bed every night. Nash and I were always the two who caught hell because we weren't fucking everything that moved. He had a sister to worry about, and I was busting ass trying to recover. Since then, I've been busting ass carving out a name for myself in the AHL. My NHL dreams may have gone up in smoke, but I'm still one of the highest-paid players in the AHL.
He laughs abruptly, a sound that makes me sweat a little. "Fine. You can try to get to know her if she'll let you," he says. "But good fucking luck with that."
