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Kevin winces. “What is with the pissy mood then?”
“None of your beeswax,” she snarks to him.
I have to admit, their whole sibling relationship is adorable.
“You seem like a good guy, Hayworth, otherwise I’d have to kick your ass,” Kevin jokes.
“Gee, thanks,” I reply sheepishly.
“I would say you guys should just get together, but that situation is all kinds of complicated. You need to think of your careers because it would be career suicide,” Kevin advises. He’s staring at the front of the elevator car. Patty and I are standing at each of the back corners. This whole situation is very awkward.
“Thanks for the advice, Kevin, but I didn’t ask for it,” Patty reminds.
“But I always have your back, so I just needed to remind you what is on the line,” Kevin states. The elevator doors open and he walks off whistling, with his hands in his pockets, and I feel like I’m in some weird alternate world.
“After you,” I say to Patty.
She stalks off the elevator, looking too good for a girl who drank too much last night. Even in the longer, formfitting skirt she looks hotter than hell.
I follow behind until I catch up and as we enter the room where brunch is being held, Andrew McNab walks in with us. Patty freezes and Andrew’s brown eyes turn wide. They go back down to size quickly and he says a brief hello and passes us.
Patty on the other hand is frozen.
“Patty.” I take her arm as recognition strikes. Her father’s teammate, Andrew. I didn’t realize it was Andrew McNab. He won the Art Ross trophy a couple of years in a row for leading scorer. Holy crap.
She looks up at me and I read her anxiety. “Just hold on to my arm. I got you,” I reassure her.
She takes hold of my arm and nods. We enter the large room and I spot her parents and Kevin off to the right. Andrew is on the other side of the room, sitting with some other retired players.
When we reach the table, I pull out a chair for Patty.
“You look pale, sweetie,” her mom notes.
“I feel like crap from the wine last night,” she admits.
Her mom frowns. “I can go grab you some orange juice and the omelets are delicious. You probably just need a good meal.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Patty says.
“I can go grab us some food,” I offer.
“It’s okay, go help yourself,” Mrs. Sanders states.
I look at Patty to make sure she is okay and when she blinks, giving me confirmation, I head over to the buffet. Truth is, I’m starving and bloody confused. I don’t get why Patty is upset about this newfound revelation. So what if we both want each other? I think the cat being out of the bag is a good thing. Although, I do realize I would be facing major fallout if our relationship came to light. I blink as I make my way across the buffet, loading home fries, bacon, and fresh waffles with strawberries and cream on my plate. I’m getting a head of myself; we aren’t in a relationship. Maybe I need to talk to Coach about getting traded off our team. That way Patty could keep her job and we could be together, but if I was living in another city, how would that work?
I’m beginning to understand Patty’s frustration. Our situation sucks.
I return to the table and place my plate down. “Geez, Hayworth, we are still in season. Why are you eating all that crap?” Coach asks, but he’s laughing.
“I love food. And I love dessert. If I see dessert for breakfast, I can’t say no,” I explain.
“He eats dessert all the time, but he works out a lot. He stays in peak shape even with all the junk he eats,” Patty explains as her mother returns with a plate and a glass of orange juice and places it in front of her. “Thanks, Mom.”
Kevin sits at the table a moment later. His plate is covered in a pile of eggs and bacon.
We all eat in silence. Oli stands to welcome his guests and the brunch seems to be pretty uneventful, except for every time I glance at Andrew McNab his gaze is focused on Patty.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
