I want to go in. To say hi, to kiss her, and to let the soothing tone of her voice caress my crappy mood until it’s all gone. But the way she’s laughing, the way she’s animatedly chatting to her friend… I don’t want to take that from her. I don’t want to mar her bright spirit with my bullshit.
She might be glad to see me. She might even invite me to join them, but this is her time with her friend. It’s not something I’m going to muscle in on, no matter how badly I might want to. And Ireallyfucking want to.
As I’m tucking the packet of chocolate powder under her windshield wiper, Athena’s laughter sounds behind me. “What the fuck are you doing,hermanito? I can’t tell if you’re trying to break into that car or dry hump it.” She cackles again.
When I lean back and turn to face her, her eyes dance between the windshield and my face. Despite the cool shower I had before leaving the rink, and the cold night air, my face starts to warm.
“Are you blushing? My baby brother is embarrassed? I never thought I’d see the day.” Questions flit across her face and amusement lighting up her eyes in the glow of the streetlights. She folds her arms, leveling me with an arched brow over a perfect, piercing stare.
I’ve always wondered how she mastered it, the inquisition glare, the “give me all the answers I require, or I’ll hurt you” face. Was she born that way? Or does she spend hours in front of the mirror glaring and threatening herself.
“Care to explain yourself? Because”—she huffs out a breath—“it appears to me, hermanito, that you’re placing a packet of hot chocolate on someone’s car window.” The disbelief in her voice coupled by the wrinkles on her forehead make me chuckle.
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” I resist the urge to fold my arms across my body to protect myself from the force that is my sister. I don’t want her to scent weakness and go for the jugular.
I’m acutely aware that my goalie pads are in my trunk if I need them, but she could totally kill me before I got anywhere near them.
“You wanna tell me why?”
I jut my chin out at her. “I do nice things… Sometimes”
At that, she snorts, and in seconds, she’s laughing so hard she’s doubled over, hand on one knee, and the other holding up an index finger, telling me to hold on for a second while she figures her shit out.
It takes more than a second for her to stand up straight, and when she finally does, she wipes under her eyes with the fleshy part of both thumbs at the same time.
The longer it takes her to recover from her outburst, the more irritation prickles under my skin. Idodo nice things, dammit.
A beat passes. Two. I can’t think of a single nice thing I’ve done for someone in a long time. Okay, fine, maybe it’s been a while.
“Te amo, Ares. But the only time you do,” she holds up her hands to make bunny ears, “nice things, is if something’s in it for you.”
That stings. Mostly because she’s fucking right.
No point in beating around the bush when it comes to my big sister, or giving her any form of my bravado, so I sigh and give into the urge to cross my arms. “It’s my girlfriend’s car.” I realize what I’ve done the second the words leave my mouth because my sister is now laughing so hard, she might either fall over or piss herself.
Ay, dios mío. I hope she does both. I won’t even help. I’ll stand here and record it so I can upload it to social media.
“Now I know you’re lying.” She pants out the words in short breaths between giggles. She wags a finger at me as she presses her knees together. “Good one, but you need to stop before I wet myself.”
I guess my silence, or something about my expression clues her in to the fact that I’m not telling a joke. She straightens. “Wait, you’re… serious?”
I nod.
Her jaw drops open, she flicks her gaze back to the windshield, lets it linger for a moment before she fixes me with a look I haven’t seen before. “You really have a girlfriend, Ares?”
I nod again.
She purses her lips and narrows those fucking know-all eyes. “What? What is it?”
“She’s too good for me.”
Another snort. “NowthatI can believe.” She shakes her head, understanding dawning on her face. “Wait. That’s your girlfriend’s car?”
Another nod. She’s not normally this slow to follow along with something, so I can only assume she’s scheming.
She claps her hands together. “So, she’s here? Inside?” She hooks a thumb over her shoulder.
Oh no.
