“Yeah.”
“And you’ve known him how long?”
“A few weeks. Maybe a month.”
Jake leans back in his chair, arms crossed—the body language of a man who’s about to say something I don’t want to hear.
“What?” I ask.
“I don’t like it.”
I blink. “What do you mean you don’t like it? You don’t even know him.”
“Exactly. I don’t know him. And neither do you.” He holds up a hand before I can interrupt. “A few weeks, Win. You’ve known him a few weeks. And he’s aprofessional athlete. You know what those guys are like.”
“No, I don’t. Enlighten me.”
“They think they’re a big deal. They travel constantly. They’ve got women throwing themselves at them in every city. They’re used to getting whatever they want, whenever they want it.” He shakes his head. “I’m not saying he’s a bad guy. I’m saying be careful.”
“I am being careful.”
“Are you? Because it sounds like you’realready halfway gone for this dude.”
I open my mouth to argue, then close it. Am I halfway gone? I don’t know anymore. The lines have gotten so blurry.
“He’s different,” I say, but even I can hear how weak it sounds.
“They’re all different in the beginning.” Jake’s expression softens slightly. “Look, I’m not trying to be an asshole. I just… I watched what Derek did to you. How long it took you to put yourself back together. I don’t want to see my sister end up as someone’s flavor of the week.”
“Banks isn’t like Derek.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about his history, his past relationships, his—” He makes a vague gesture. “Who knows where he’s been, Win. These guys, they have options. Lots of options. Just… use protection, okay? And don’t let yourself get too attached until you know what you’re actually dealing with.”
The words land like stones in my stomach.
I want to argue. I want to defend Banks, to list all the ways he’s proven himself to be decent and good, nothing like what Jake is describing.
But the truth is, I don’t know. Not really. I don’t know anything about his past relationships. I don’t know if he’s had girlfriends, hookups, or one-night stands in every city on the road. He told me it’s been a while since anyone touched him, but what does “a while” mean? A few months? A year?
He’s twenty-nine years old. He’s been in the NHL for over a decade. The idea that he’s been celibate that whole time is laughable.
So what has he been doing?
“Win?” Jake is watching me, concerned now. “You okay?”
“Fine.” I force a smile. “You’re right. I’ll be careful.”
“I’m not trying to rain on your parade—”
“No, I know. You’re being a good brother.” I reach across the table and squeeze his hand. “Annoyingly overprotective, but good.”
“It’s my job.” He squeezes back. “So when are you going out with this guy next?”
“Actually…” I take a breath. “There’s a charity gala tomorrow night. He asked me to go with him.”
Jake’s eyebrows rise. “A gala. Like, formal?”
“Like, very formal. The whole team will be there. Press, probably. It’s a big deal.”
