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“Does he know that?”

I pause at that. I mean, it should be obvious, but I haven’t had this conversation with him yet. Up until now I’ve been avoiding it.

As if seeing my discomfort, she continues. “It can’t be easy to work with him.”

“I’m managing fine. I don’t see him that often.” I can avoid him for the most part.

“It’s okay if you’re not managing fine. You gave up a lot to come here, and things didn’t exactly go as planned.”

I sip my drink, trying not to let the visual of what I walked in on form in my head. “At least I didn’t move in with him and find out after the fact that he was screwing around on me.”

She gives me a soft smile. “That doesn’t necessarily make what happened between you any easier to get over, though, does it?”

My phone lights up with another message from him. I flip it over so I don’t have to see them. “No. Not really.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think it’s good that you’re spending time with Bishop, even if it’s for rehab.”

“Can you convince RJ to look at it that way for me?”

Lainey laughs. “I can try, but I doubt I’ll be successful.” She stares into her glass for a few long moments before she looks up at me, her expression soft and knowing. “Your brother carries a lot of guilt around with him. He has a hard time letting go of his past mistakes, and it manifests as concern and overprotectiveness. I know he needs to learn how to let things go, but I think you might need to do that too. He continues to punish himself for his past sins, even though who he was when he was first drafted to the NHL isn’t who he is now.”

What she says makes sense. He never pushes me to come to games; he always makes sure I’m protected from the media stuff because it was so hard on me as a teenager. And I see it in the way he is with Lainey, so doting and head over heels in love with her. Always trying to make up for the time he missed when they lost touch after their summer in Alaska together.

I also see how that extends to me.

The sound of Kody rustling around in his bed draws our attention to the monitor. We’re both quiet for a few moments, waiting to see if he’ll settle. “Da-eee!” he calls out groggily.

Lainey gives me a wry smile. “It’s as if he knows his dad is out. I’m going to check on my little man.”

“Okay. I’m going to go to sleep.”

She gives my shoulder a squeeze as she passes. “I’m always here, Stevie, in whatever way you need me. A sister, a confidant, a mediator for you and RJ. We both love you so much.”

“Thanks.” A lump in my throat makes the rest come out in a whisper. “I love you too.”

I’m up early the next morning with Kody. RJ doesn’t come down until after eleven, and he and Lainey make a greasy breakfast of bacon, eggs, and hash browns. I stay out of the kitchen while they cook because they’re super touchy, and I don’t need to see that.

Once we’ve eaten, RJ and I take Kody outside. We set up the hockey net, and RJ tends goal while me and Kody take shots at him. It’s fun and honestly cathartic. Lainey eventually comes out to get Kody and put him down for his afternoon nap, and RJ and I keep passing the puck. It’s been a long time since he and I have played sports together.

He stays in net while I keep firing shots at him, enjoying the way he has to keep dodging them when they almost connect with his groin. A charley horse in the thigh takes him down.

He curls into the fetal position on the ground and grumbles a litany of juicy curses.

“Sorry. You all right?”

“It’s like you’re purposely aiming for my balls.” He groans and sits up.

He grabs my outstretched hand, and I help pull him up. “That’s because I am.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For making the thing with Winslow about me, for trying to tell you what to do, for making you feel like I don’t think your career has value, or that you’re anything but amazing. It’s just . . . me and Winslow haven’t seen eye to eye, like ever, and I worry about you.”

“I know you do, and I get it, but he’s been really focused on rehab and getting back on the ice, not on trying to get into my pants.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

“I can appreciate that. But I need to make my own decisions.”

“I know. So am I forgiven?” He gives me the famous Bowman half smile that pops his dimple.

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