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“Dylan Michael Everett!” she screeched as she tried her best to keep him at arm’s length. “If you get my clothes sweaty, I will leak baby photos to the press!”

Everett laughed, clearly thinking her threat was a bluff or not caring, and wrapped his arms around her waist. He picked her up and spun her twice before plopping her back down, shaking his sweat-damp hair—the same shade as her own—toward her.

“Where’s Staci?” he asked. “You bailing me out of video review for lunch? Please?”

She made a point of smoothing out her shirt and blazer. She glared at Everett, but even from a distance, Henri could tell there was no heat behind it. And if there was any doubt that this woman was Everett’s older sister, it disintegrated when she happened to look in Henri’s direction. Their eyes locked, briefly, and Henri was confronted with the same shade of blue that had a vice around his heart.

Henri realized he was still bent in half, hands frozen where they were tangled in his pink laces, and quickly busied himself with undressing. Blood roared in his ears, and he didn’t hear anything except the low buzz of chatter around him.

Mechanically, he changed out of his gear and into gym clothes. He probably stank to high heaven, but he’d shower after he cooled down on an exercise bike or something. He was suddenly full of unspent energy and needed a better outlet than awkwardly pacing around his hotel room.

As he pulled on his shirt, temporarily blinded to the world around him, he felt a presence approach. Sure enough, as soon as his head poked through the shirt, Everett’s sister was in front of him.

“I’m Vanessa.” She held out a flawlessly manicured hand. When he shook it, it was smooth and perfect in all the ways her brother’s hand was callused and rough.

Henri leaned away, considering this woman now that she was in his personal space. She was shorter than he’d expected, barely making it past his shoulders despite her heels. The shape of her face was completely different from Everett’s, except for those eyes. Their coloring was identical too. Henri thought he’d do a double-take if he’d seen her in any other room, unable to place the resemblance without the proper context.

Realizing he was being awkward and rude, he licked his chapped lips before responding. “I’m Henri,” he said. “I play on a line with your brother.”

“Yes, you do,” she agreed in a tone he couldn’t decipher. He felt under a microscope, and his nerves were back a hundredfold. “How are you liking the Turkeys so far?”

Henri’s shoulders were rigid. He couldn’t make himself relax. It was so weird, looking at Everett’s eyes in someone else’s face. It wasn’t as though she was being unfriendly, either. Her smile wasn’t as wide or open as her brother’s, but he saw nothing menacing in it.

“It’s good,” he managed. His accent was about ten times thicker than usual; he cringed internally. Suddenly the panic had a shape, a name, a truly terrifying form: please don’t let Vanessa Everett realize I have a crush on her brother.

“Dylan treating you right? I know he takes this captain thing seriously, but I also know he’s a giant man-child, so he sometimes doesn’t hit the mark.”

And because his brain was going haywire, he had to bite his lip to keep from saying, “Your brother can treat me any way he wants.” Instead he nodded. A lot. Too much.

“Jesus, V.” Everett came over. He looked like he’d rushed through a shower, water dripping from his hair and shirt far damper than it should be. And he was frowning, as if he were genuinely concerned. “What’d you say to him? You’re scaring him.”

“I’m not—” Henri protested, only to be interrupted by Vanessa Everett putting a hand on his arm. It was strangely soothing, considering that the woman terrified him. Not because of anything she’d said or done, but the potential was so visceral that no amount of logic could calm him down. Because if she picked up on his feelings and told her brother, she could ruin his last chance on this team that had so warmly accepted him despite everything.

“He’s fine.” It sounded like she was directing it at Henri, trying to convince him. She smiled at him, and he felt like a cornered animal being soothed. It was working. “I was just asking him if he’s happy with his agent and if not, I’ve got a few openings.” She reached into an inside pocket of her blazer and pulled out a crisp white card, forcing it into Henri’s limp, useless hand.

“Thanks,” he managed, because it was polite, not because he had any intention of contacting her. He stared at the ground and hoped the heat in his cheeks would look like exertion from practice.

“You boys are looking good lately,” Vanessa continued. There was something probing in her tone, though Henri had no idea what she was looking for. “I like seeing a center who can keep up with my brother.”

“Baps is way faster than me.”

“I meant with playmaking,” she said easily. “Obviously he’s faster than you.”

“Why’d you come visit me? Just to be mean?”

“Only if you deserve it.”

When Henri chanced a look up, he met Vanessa’s eye. She winked at him, and again he was struck by how similar and different the siblings looked.

“I like the pink laces, by the way.” She patted his arm, her expression no longer teasing but full of such sympathy that Henri could hardly bear to look at it. “Good luck tonight, Henri. Don’t let my brother steal all the goals.”

“It’s his job!” Everett said. He followed his sister out of the locker room, sparing a concerned glance over his shoulder as he waved goodbye to Henri. Henri just managed to wave back. He hoped Everett didn’t notice his hand was trembling.

Henri collapsed back down onto the bench. He didn’t know why he felt like he’d just survived a car crash or something, but his heart was pounding with adrenaline. What the hell had just happened?

Dylan (November 2023)

Thanks for lunch always good to see you and Staci