“We just need you towantto do those things with us,” Forker clarifies.
Exactly. He’s got to act like he wants us around. He has to ask us to go for drinks or to go for a skate. He has to take interest in our lives. We’ll try, too.
“I appreciate that.”
“And I’ll be yourbestfriend if you let me come and hang out with your dad for like…two whole unsupervised hours,” Forker adds.
Saltzy rolls his eyes, trying to hide his smile.
My phone buzzes. I’m expecting a message from my brother or from Lemmy, everyone else I talk to is inside the house. One option is significantly better than the other.
Unfortunately, it’s Kane.
Kane
Morgues have been empty for the past couple of days. No sign. I’m going to make up some posters.
My stomach drops. He’ll post them online too, won't he? He’ll expect me to share them and…Ishould.They’re my parents. But the idea makes me feel sick. I’ve kept my personal life—my old one—so far away from Pittsburgh and who I am now. I don’t want them overlapping. I don’t want the public to have this information on me. I don’t want people being able touse this against me, especially when my parents will likely turn up in a day or two.
“Boston.”
I glance up, realizing my knuckles are white as I grip my phone.
Saltzy and Fork are both studying me. It’s Saltzy who speaks up, though. Fork knows better. Fork tends to respect my boundaries until he deems them unreasonable.
“You good?”
I smile tightly, dipping my chin. “Look at you, checking in on me.You’re such a good friend, Cap.”
He huffs a laugh and shakes his head, but Forker’s eyes hold questions. Forker doesn’t smile. Forker doesn’t take me at my word because our relationship has substance. He knows I’m lying through my teeth.
CHAPTER FIVE
boston
“What the hell?”
I glance across our usual booth, just in time to see Forker’s eyes narrow into slits. It’s not a crazed look, like the one he sports before he’s about to almost kill someone, but neither that face nor his tone is pleased.
I follow his gaze, and it takes me less than half a second to figure out what has his attention. Quite frankly, it’s because she haseveryone’sattention. The crowd practically parts for her. High-neck, long-sleeved, little black dress that barely covers her ass. Slit on the thigh, exposing a hell of a lot of skin.
Her long, thick, blonde hair is pin-straight and tucked behind her ears. She turns, smiling flirtatiously at a group of idiots who literally stop their conversation just to look at her. Dark, winged eyeliner with glitter all over her lids, Ariana Forkerro flashes them a wink and wiggles her fingers in their direction.
She looks like she’s dressed to hit the town in the ritziest parts of New York City. She’s dressed to break the hearts of everypoor man in the vicinity. She surely doesn’t look like she should be slumming it atIceboxwith this group of hockey players.
Forker stands, nearly knocking his glass of Jäger over. By the tightness in his shoulders and the way his jaw is set, it would appear that his younger sister did not let him know she would be visiting from California.
He shoves Wyatt and EJ out of the way, practically crawling over their laps, desperate to get to his sister before she gets to us. She’s closer now, making her way toward us on heels that should be illegal to walk in, those short legs looking mighty fucking long.
I blow a bubble, trying to look away. I really should. I seem to look at her a bit too long whenever she’s in the room. I’ve only met her a handful of times, and trust me, I was far too interested in the way her mouth curved at the bow and how mischief danced in her eyes every time she looked at me.
Ariana Forkerro is bad news. Bad, bad news.
“Hi, boys.” She smiles, glossy painted lips pulling back to reveal a perfect set of teeth.
Forker grabs her by the arm—firm, but gentle. He tugs her toward him, studying her face. It’s the concern that an older brother should wear when his little sister shows up out of the blue.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, angling his head, scanning her over. “Everything okay?”
