Page 59 of Revenge Puck

She scoffs indignantly. “No, I’m not drunk.”

“Is Finley asleep?”

“Of course he is.”

“Then you should keep it down,” I remind her.

I pull out some leftover spaghetti instead and shut the fridge door to finally face her.

Her chocolate eyes narrow at me. “Shouldn't you be in a better mood after winning the first two games of the championship finals on the road?”

Yes, I should. Why don’t I feel good? Oh, right. “I met someone.”

“No kidding,” my sister snorts. “I was wondering when you were going to mention her. Elle is it? You didn’t respond to any of my texts about her!”

“Guess that means you’ve seen all the photos of us?”

“Everyone in the world has seen the photos, Pres. Even Finley.”

“How did he see them?”

She shrugs. “Some kid at preschool told him he saw his uncle on the news. Finley was furious that he didn’t get to miss school to come to the games in North Carolina.”

“There was no reason for him to miss school for just the second game of the series.”

“I know that. But we both wanted to be there in person cheering for you. He wouldn’t have missed school Saturday.”

“It’s too dangerous for the two of you to be wandering all over a strange city alone, being surrounded by Bobcat fans.”

“Well, at least the next two games are home. There isnothingthat will keep us from missing those games.”

“Of course not. Best seats in the house.”

I remove the lid on the storage container and pop the spaghetti into the microwave, punching in the time.

While we wait, Maya says, “So…did you tell Elle the whole history?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you tell her the reason why you try to murder Christian whenever you see his face?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

I lean my back against the counter and shrug. “Because it’s nobody’s business, not even hers.”

“A word of advice, big brother. You can’t have a relationship with a woman if you’re not completely honest with her.”

Good thing Elle and I are not in a relationship. It was just to make Riley jealous, get him off-kilter for the finals. And it worked. Better than we even expected. But I don’t tell my sister all of that. She wouldn’t approve of pretending.

“You already miss her.”

“Why the hell do you assume that?”

“Because you’re moping around after winning back-to-back away games for the championship, stress eating old leftovers! What else could it be?”

“Fine. I miss her. I wish I had invited her up to D.C.”

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