Page 93 of Put a Rink on It

“Nope, girls’ night. No boys allowed,” Kaitlyn dismisses him, much to his chagrin.

“Rats. Well, enjoy. Let me know what else I can get you. The food will be out shortly.” He stalks away, his shoulders hunched lower.

“Way to burst his balloon,” I say with a snicker.

“I don’t need some skidude stealing my time with you to dish about my brother. Been there, done that. I’m here on a mission, none of which involves the likes of Nero.”

“Skidude?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s got mountain air vibes. The server job pays the bills when the mountains close for the day.”

“You seem sure about that.”

“Been there, done that. Moving on.”

“Back to my question,” I prod. “What kind of man tickles Kaitlyn Champion’s fancy? Are you on the prowl for a real-life book boyfriend?”

“For the right man, I could get behind someone who talks dirty in the bedroom, tells me I’m pretty, and calls me his ‘good girl.’”

Your brother does all that, I don’t dare voice.

I scan the bar for potential guys, but it’s slim pickings at the moment. The night is young, and I’m happy to catch up with my future sister-in-law.

The needle of a record player scratches across my mind. Err, strike that.

Nero’s sister.

“Honestly, I want someone who will treat me right, support my career, not care that I’m always creating content or reading too many books. Someone who may want a family in the not-so-distant future. Someone I can be myself with, who doesn’t think I’m too much but the perfect amount of much. Is that so unreasonable?”

I lay my hand over hers. “No. Absolutely not. Don’t change yourself or diminish who you are for anyone—romantic partner, friend, parent. You be you, Kaitlyn. The right guy’s out there.” I tap her hand three times and pull mine away.

“Easy for you to say when you found yours.”

I don’t allow the sting of her comment to fluster me. In her eyes, the evidence is there because we’re good at playing the roles. We’re good at pretenses, pretending to be in love, being in a committed relationship. Outwardly, we’re good at it.

It’s the internal that seems to be missing the memo.

“I can’t wait to see the kids you and Nero create. They’re going to be stunning.”

Fuck.

“And he’s gonna be a great dad. Don’t let him think otherwise, k? His hockey ego needs to translate to this side of his personal life.”

She sounds so sure, like it’s guaranteed, set in stone, that Nero will become a dad. What’s she basing it on? Did he want kids at some point, but now changed his mind? How do I even ask without getting too personal or giving away what he told me?

Thankfully, our snacks arrive, diverting the conversation to the food. It’s not our server, but it doesn’t stop Kaitlyn from ordering another drink. “Marina?”

I glance at the barely touched drink. Pushing it to the corner of the table, I smile at the woman. “I’m gonna need a dirty martini. Extra olives.”

Text me when you get here to pick us up. Don’t come in

Nero’s response is immediate.

Oh, I’m definitely coming in

I put my phone down and sigh. Kaitlyn’s forehead rests on the table. “What’d he say?”

“He’s coming in.”