Eli is possibly the opposite of my brother, and that right there is the issue.
He is my best friend, though, and not only because I have no other friends, but because he’s the best, funniest person I’ve ever met, and he’s a genius—literally.
And I... I’ve been a shit friend the past few years. Okay, eight years, and now Mom is worried about him.
It’s not hard for her to be worried over someone, she’s a very maternal person, takes care of most people she crosses paths with, but Lyla Storm only gets really worried when shit is about to hit the fan.
Like when Wolf went to rehab—both times—or like when Si got a job with the Pirates and he would be in Vinny’s proximity for the first time since his accident.
This is why I know that her telling me what’s been going on with Eli is her not-at-all subtle way of telling me to stop measuring my interactions with him like I’m a recovering addict.
Which in some ways, I am.
Feeling Eli’s eyes on me is like the smallest dose of my preferred drug, and I hate myself for loving the high it gives me. I hate myself for how much better it feels to play hockey when he’s watching—when Iknowhe’s watching.
So much better, in fact, that my teammates’ lackluster celebration of my two goals doesn’t even dim my smile.
We lose, though, because of course we do. Even if the Demons aren’t that great, they don’t spend three periods mostly ignoring their best player—Lussier—so he gets a hat trick and an extra point for an assist.
I get the usual silent treatment when I walk back into the locker room after doing my time with the media, but after a quick escape, I find three of my favorite people waiting to hug me.
Mom goes first, of course. “You were amazing out there, baby. I’m sorry you still lost.”
“It’s just the team not gelling,” Michael adds—and he’s not completely wrong, so I hum in agreement and hug him back.
“Hey,” I murmur, finally coming face-to-face with the most beautiful person alive.
His blond hair is even lighter than the last time I saw him. I bet he had one of his “I’m bored” episodes and bleached it himself.
His blue eyes shine brighter than normal thanks to the glittery, golden eyeshadow on his lids, and of course it’s paired with that love that has kept me shackled for years, but it’s not enough for me to ignore the dark circles under them.
“You were amazing out there, Lex.” He jumps into the hug so his arms reach around my shoulders and buries his face against my neck.
I give myself one minute, knowing this will all go away soon, and enjoy having him in my arms.
“Thank you,” I whisper in his ear.
“All right, we’ve got reservations and Lex needs to be back at the hotel early. You two can catch up on the way.”
Letting go of Eli’s smaller frame gets harder every time, but I do it, and I make sure I don’t look into his eyes again and instead nod Mom’s way.
We walk behind our parents in silence. As always, I’m painfully aware of our differences. He’s fit, don’t get me wrong, and not exactly skinny, but his five feet seven frame always seems so small next to my six feet five.
I ball my fists at first but then think it’s probably better to stuff them deep in my pockets so I don’t get any ideas.
“You really were amazing.”
The softness of his voice and his hesitation are like back-to-back punches.
I hate that I’ve made him this way, that it always takes us so much time to get back to our normal. We never have enough time, not really. Not even in the off season, because I need to train when August rolls around and the rest of the time I’m either busy with sponsors or trying to spend time with Vinny and Mom.
We haven’t been able to justbein so fucking long.
I know when it changed and why. There’s no way I could ever forget the tears that were clinging desperately to his lashes, theway his blue eyes looked so heartbroken after he told me, after he bared his soul to me, and I had to break both our hearts.
We were just kids—which is exactly the point. I was a kid, even if it didn’t really feel that way back then. It doesn’t change much that we’re not kids anymore, I don’t think. It still feels like my soul is being ripped out of my body every time. But I’ve powered through broken ribs in the playoffs, I can power through this too.
“Thank you. I’m really doing my best.”
