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“Fucking shame.” He pauses, his eyes turning to me. “That your sister?” His grin is…well, it’s down right despicable as he looks me over. “Fine ass sister.”
“Hush up, Naughty Box,” I scold, even though I blush. Nix takes one look at my face and groans.
“Oh, ew, this guy?! Come on, sis, you know better!” he scolds, making me giggle. “You never flirt with the enemy!”
“Flirt?!” someone shouts as they skate toward the other box. Nash.
“Shut the fuck up, Cowboy!” Naughty Box hisses, and Nash grins.
“Keep your eyes to yourself, or I’ll break that pretty nose on the glass!” Nash warns, his tone suggesting he’s having a civilized conversation and not threatening violence.
“Fuck’s sake, ninety-six. Focus!” Nix shouts at Nash, who just grins. I watch as two men crash into the wall and cringe. Nix chuckles. “I told Ren when we were fourteen not to pick sixty-nine. Still can’t believe coaches ever allowed it.” He shakes his head.
“Why did they?” I wonder when I realize that Ren was the one who got body slammed.
“He and Nash are wings. He wanted to be the opposite number to Nash.” Nix shrugs. “Holden is thirteen for the same reason. I was twenty-six. Thirteen is—”
“Half. And he was the second center,” I murmur, and Nix nods. I’ll be honest, I knew both their numbers because how could I miss them running around the house when we were growing up, but I never made the connection.
I was too wrapped up in my own life and focusing on dance to really pay much attention to my brothers. Not only that but once I turned sixteen, they made it their life’s mission to avoid me as much as they possibly could.
And the last reason, but not the least, is that I just don’t get what I’m looking at right now. Is it kind of hot? Yes. Is the point of the game obvious? Yeah. Score a goal, beat the other guys. But beyond that? The rules? I don’t get it. Why didn’t the guy who body-slammed Ren get a penalty, but Nash is in the naughty box? What's the difference? And why are their uniforms so similar? Is that not counterproductive?
“Plus, Holden always used to say his luck couldn’t get worse, so he might as well embrace it.” Nix chuckles. “Think maybe he was wrong about that, though.”
We watch Holden fly across the ice, and I think he might be right. Nothing about Holden’s life has been bad luck for years now. But what about the boy he used to be?
“He’s lucky he had you,” I say, and Nix shrugs. He plays it off because, in my twin’s eyes, anyone would do what Nix did for Holden. I might not know the full story, but I do know that a woman is in prison because my brother did something courageous. I throw my arm around his shoulders and tug him toward me.
“Hey!” he yelps, but I hush him.
“I mean it! You’re a good person, Nix! You always have been,” I announce, making him shrug me off. I chuckle, but don’t let him deny it. “Good people make mistakes, too, remember?”
“Focus on the game, you troublemaker,” Nix chuckles, forcing my attention back to the ice.
“I still don't understand what I’m looking at,” I tease, making Nix sigh.
“Fallon, number one, is the goalie. Two is Romeo, defense, along with Griff who’s number three. Rob is second goalie, number eight–”
“Still lost.”
“You’re hopeless,” Nix says with a sigh, making me chuckle.
* * *
The Bristol Blues won four-zero. The party that night raged into the early morning, and I didn’t have a single sip of alcohol.
It’s amazing the shenanigans that drunk people get up to. Of course, the next day the guys had another game, and I found myself shocked by their ability to sober up and perform after so much partying.
That Sunday, though, Nix left without a word. I couldn’t bring myself to be mad at him. He’s not good at goodbyes. I’ll tell him how much I love him the next time he drops in unexpectedly. For now, the text I sent him saying he’s a butt, and I love him will have to do.
This weekend is the guys’ first weekend off since the season started, so, of course, that means we’re going to a Halloween party and haunted house.
Because I’m lacking creativity and time, I decide to dress as a sexy hockey player. I’ve got high pigtails, thigh-high white socks with two blue stripes above the knees, and Holden’s old high school jersey sporting number thirteen, which is perfect for Halloween, that reaches mid-thigh. I am wearing skin-tight, black booty shorts that cover my important bits, as well as white tennis shoes.
I considered the white platform heels but decided against them. I’m not drinking tonight, but after partying all night, my feet would not be thanking me.
Sadie invited Nissa and me over to her sorority to get ready for tonight. We decided to coordinate our outfits. Nissa is, of course, wearing Rob’s old jersey, but it was made for a twelve-year-old. The sleeves are cut off, and she’s tucked it into her bra, so it's a crop top. The high-waisted, black bottoms she's wearing are basically just full-coverage underwear, and she’s rocking knee-high black socks.
