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“I do have the ability to keep my dick in my pants, you know.”
He and Austin both snorted, and I flipped them off, murmuring something about the sacred code of bros before hos.
“Finish your game,” Aurora said, cutting me with a withering look. “I’ll wait with Ella.”
Jesus, the girl had claws.
It was a joke.
I was joking.
Even if my execution missed the mark.
She walked off, and Austin wasted no time addressing the elephant in the room. “What the fuck did you say to her?” he gritted out.
“Honestly, it’s probably better you don’t know.” Connor wore a shit-eating grin, clearly loving watching me squirm under Austin’s thunderous glare.
“Well, whatever you said, fix it,” he said. “I want her to stick around, not run scared because she fell victim to the Noah Holden curse.”
“Dude, she’s your sister,” I pointed out. “I would never go there.”
“Then we won’t have a problem, will we? You can smooth things out with Rory and reassure her we all want her here.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll apologize.”
“Good. And while you’re at it, offer to show her around.”
“Austin, man, cut me—” His expression hardened, and I conceded. “Okay. Consider me her new best friend.”
He slapped me on the shoulder and smiled. “I knew I could count on you, Holden. Now let Connor finish kicking your ass so we can head out.”
Tour guide. Right. I could do that for a couple of days. Show her around. Help her get her bearings.
Then everything could go back to normal.
CHAPTER 3
AURORA
Shortstack.
Noah had called me shortstack.
And a geek.
And not his type.
It wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard before. But still, it had caught me off guard hearing him say it.
Of course I wasn’t his type. If the woman who had been hanging off him like a cheap throw was any indication, he liked tall, slender females with seductive smiles and confidence by the bucket load.
Not that I wanted him to like me.
I didn’t.
He was Austin’s teammate and one of his best friends. But nobody liked having their flaws highlighted. Least of all, in the middle of a bar surrounded by gorgeous hockey players and their adoring fangirls.
I couldn’t change my appearance. God knows I’d tried enough over the years. Mom had encouraged all the fad diets and exercise routines when I was younger, trying to mold me into her version of perfection. But I didn’t have the height. I didn’t have the eyes or the smile, or the right complexion. And I definitely didn’t have the right body shape.
