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“Are you sure?”
She grins. “Yep. It’s yours.”
It’s weird how nice it is to have her here. I can’t believe I was dreading it so much. “Thank you,” I say again, taking her hand and squeezing it.
“Thank you,” she says. “For letting me stay with you.”
It would have been churlish not to. My serviced apartment has a spare room, and I know Isabella hates to be alone. She always has, even when she was small.
And yes, I’m missing Eli. He’d normally be here by now, helping me cook dinner, or taking a shower after practice. But it’s only a few days until we can be together again.
I’m an adult. I can deal with that.
“So what happens after this?” she asks me, topping up our champagne glasses.
“I guess I take it all off and go to bed.”
She laughs. “Not your face. I mean after you finish here. Get Gramps’ baby up and running again. Will you go back to New York?”
I swallow. “Yeah, I guess.” I haven’t worked that bit out. Neither Eli nor I have. And we should probably talk about it, but I have no idea how to make this thing work if we’re hundreds of miles apart.
“No need to look so sad,” she says. “I know how much you didn’t want to come here.”
“I like the team,” I say quietly.
She gives me a strange look. “They’re lovely guys. They had a ball trying to dance. Goran, is that his name? I swear he was flirting with me.”
And there it is. The jealousy again. Which is stupid because the only thing I feel for Goran is friendship.
“Eli Salinger, on the other hand,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “Now he’s my kind of hockey player.”
The thought of Isabella flirting with Eli is like a smack to my gut. I feel sick at the thought of it. I don’t think I can listen to her talking about him like that.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I say.
Her phone rings. “Hold that thought. I need to take this.” She slides her finger across the screen. “Issy Gauthier,” she says, her voice light. “Oh, hi. That’s what you heard, huh? I can neither confirm nor deny.” She’s silent for a minute then gives a little laugh. “Okay, yes. He had a minor issue with his Achilles, but he’s seen the physio today and he’ll be back at practice again in the morning.” Another pause. “Yes, that’s right. In West Virginia. Damn, you know everything.” She catches me looking at her and rolls her eyes as though this is the most boring conversation she’s ever had. “Uhuh. Yeah. Damn, you really do know. I can’t confirm that, no. But when I can, you’ll be the first to know.”
It carries on like that for another few minutes until she finally hangs up. “I’m sorry, the damn gossip sites are getting worse. They found out about Justin’s ankle injury. I’ve no idea how. It only happened this afternoon.” She sighs. “I’m telling you, nothing is secret anymore.”
I don’t point out that nothing is secret because she just confirmed everything to the person she was talking to. But it reminds me that when I come clean about Eli, I need to do it on my terms. Yes, it’s lovely being close to my sister again, but I still don’t trust her completely.
So as much as I’d like to confide in her about Eli, I’ll pass for now.
“I think I’m going to head to bed,” I tell her, feeling suddenly exhausted. “There are a few emails I need to write before tomorrow.”
“Oh.” She sounds disappointed. “Sure. I guess I should head to bed, too. Though I don’t have to be up so early tomorrow. We’re not practicing until the afternoon.”
The team will be practicing in the morning. And probably in the evening, too. “You can sleep in then,” I say.
“Oh, I’m going to see Gramps,” she says. “With the camera guys. And then I’ll probably head to the rink and wait for practice.”
“I’ll see you there.”
She smiles. “Yep.”
“Good night,” I tell her. “Sleep tight.”
“You, too. And don’t work too hard.”
