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My guess is that amounts to my age and the fact that my brother thinks I’m a piano prodigy.
“Only good things, I hope,” I say in an attempt to change the subject.
Sean wraps an arm around my shoulders. “All the things, Ava. I told her how brilliant and talented you are. I told her you’re a shitty singer but not a bad ventriloquist.”
That lures laughter from me. “I wanted to be a ventriloquist for a week when I was eight. You remember that?”
“Remember it?” He kisses the top of my head. “How the fuck could I ever forget that?”
I glance up into his brown eyes. “It feels good to be back.”
“I hope you didn’t just show up for your birthday.” His left eyebrow perks. “Tell me you’re going to hang out in New York for at least a week or two.”
“At least that,” I whisper. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Harrison
“I was at your office hours ago, Sean.” I step aside to let him into the foyer of my brownstone. “It took you a hell of a long time to get back to me.”
“Busy day,” he quips. “And dinner with the family.”
“Thanks for the invitation to join you,” I deadpan.
There was a time when I was envious of Sean’s close bond with his brother since my relationship with Ryden has always been precarious at best.
My half-brother is a rising NHL superstar. When he signed a contract with the New York Falcons a year ago, I admit I was proud of him.
All the hockey camps he attended and workshops hosted by a handful of the best players in the sport paid off.
Ryden was ten when he confided in me that his dream was to play professional hockey. Even though he’s five years younger than I am, I made a promise to myself that I’d help him.
When I got my hands on my inheritance on my eighteenth birthday, I dumped a shit load of money into my brother’s love of hockey and his education.
Even though he believes our mother paid for it all, it was worth it.
“I’ll be sure to add you to the list for next time.” He laughs. “Do you want a beer?”
Before I can respond, he’s headed to my kitchen.
Sean knows his way around this house. He called it home for a short time a few years ago. I never asked for the keys back, but he’s never used them, either.
“I’ll take a water,” I tell him as I settle onto a stool next to the large island in the kitchen.
I had the home remodeled after I purchased it from my uncle. My mom’s brother decided to take a job out of state. I was looking to invest in real estate, so this place became the first notch in my property belt.
I don’t need this much damn space, but it’s here when anyone I know needs a place to crash.
Roxy takes advantage of that often enough that I set up a bedroom for her. Joslyn takes over one of the spare bedrooms on the top floor whenever she’s embroiled in an argument with her boyfriend, and Ryden drops by on occasion too, but that’s a rarity.
Sean opens a beer before he cracks the lid on a bottle of water and slides it toward me.
“Why were you at my office today, Harry?” He takes a pull from his bottle as he searches my face with his gaze. “You’re not a drop by for a chat type of guy unless it’s serious.”
He’s right about that, but I was passing by the building after a meeting a few blocks away, so I stopped in since I had time to spare.
“No reason,” I say before taking a drink.
“No reason?” he repeats. “You came there for something. Are you feeling all right?”
The question is expected, but it still grates on my nerves. I’ve landed myself in the hospital a few times in recent years. The last time was seven months ago when I cracked a rib while in a boxing ring sparing with my trainer. I lunged forward when I should have stepped back.
“I was there to say hello to my asshole of a friend.” I smirk. “Remind me never to do that again.”
“I love you too,” he says with a chuckle. “What’s going on tonight? Do you want to hit Easton’s Pub for some pinball?”
We haven’t done that in years.
I nod. “I’m in. What’s the wager?”
He holds his bottle in the air, tipping it toward me. “Let’s make it interesting. Best two out of three games. Winner takes a thousand bucks.”
I shake my head. “A thousand? You’re insane.”
“You’re a fucking billionaire.” He laughs. “You can cover the bet.”
I take another sip of water. “I’m in for a thousand. I’m going to change before we take off.”
He glances at the gray sweatpants and black T-shirt I’m wearing. It bears the logo of the private boarding school we attended as teens. We spent four years there with our other close friends, Graham Locke and Kavan Bane.
