Page 5 of Unrivaled

They were all each other had, so they always spent the holiday together. But Jess had given up so much for him—Grady could suck it up for one year. “So I’ll find something else to do. I’m a grown man. You don’t have to take care of me forever.”

“Shut up, I do too. You’re just a baby.”

“Come on.” She never asked for anything. After fifteen years, maybe she could finally get some closure. “What do I have to do for you to be okay with going?”

Jess rattled the ice cubes in her glass of vodka soda. “God, I don’t know. Fall in love and go spend Christmas with your boyfriend’s family?”

Grady snorted. “You don’t ask for much.” Jess had opinions about his love life—or lack of one.

But a strange light had come into her eyes—the one she got when she was about to snipe the puck off his stick and embarrass him in front of all his friends—and she speared him with a sharp look. “Actually….”

Oh God. Had he given her some kind of horrible idea? “Why am I suddenly afraid?”

“I’ll make you a deal.” She sipped the last of her drink. The slurp of it echoed through her straw. “I’ll go on one condition—you have to try online dating.”

She probably thought he’d push back on that the way he’d been doing for years. But honestly, Grady didn’t even think twice about it. If this was what it took for Jess to do something for herself, it was the easiest decision he’d ever made. He held out his hand. “Deal.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“No take-backs.”

“I’m going to make you tell me about the dates.”

He could just lie to her. He wouldn’t, though, except as a last resort. She was the only family he had left. “I would expect nothing less.”

Jess eyed him with suspicion, but she finally shook his hand. “Okay.” But when the handshake ended, she left her palm out. “Now give me your phone so I can download the app.”

Despite the fact that Jess was even worse with tech than he was, Grady didn’t argue.

“That went better than I thought,” Jess said a few minutes later, when a server had brought them another round. “I was worried about it. I wanted to break it to you now instead of, like, before a game that actually counted for something.” She paused. “Although maybe you should be careful of those baby Germans. Didn’t Europe get runner-up last time?”

“That was, like, eight years ago,” Grady said, but he’d forgotten about Kirschbaum and his Hart trophy. Team Europe was absolutely capable of kicking their ass.

Jess patted his shoulder. “It’s okay. I played Olympic hockey, remember? I know the only thing that matters is beating Canada.”

Grady allowed himself a small smile. “You were never tempted to marry one of them?” There was a strong legacy of American and Canadian female hockey players marrying each other. More recently, a few male couples had joined them.

“Eh.” Jess waggled her hand back and forth, playing along. “Neverseriously.” Then she propped her chin on her hand and said, “Have you?”

“Fuck no.” He laughed at the idea. “As a breed, we are horrible, gross, overly competitive assholes. Why would I saddle myself with that?”

She crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward. “Whatisyour type, then, baby brother? Since you have such strong opinions on the topic.” She was eyeing his phone again, like she wanted to start filling out his dating profile right now.

The million-dollar question. “I don’t know, someone nice?”

For some reason that set Jess into peals of laughter.

“What?” He hunched his shoulders. It wasn’t that funny. Just because he wanted to come home from a road trip to some physical affection, someone who was easy to be around, someone he could let his guard down and relax with. What was wrong with that?

“Grades, I mean this with all the love in my heart.” She reached across the table and took his hand. “Butyou’rean overcompetitive asshole. What nice guy is going to sign up for you?”

Grady pulled his hand back. “Wow. Thanks for the support, sis.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I get that you don’t want every day to be a battle. Just… I don’t know.Niceis all you can come up with? I’m not saying go date someone who hates your guts and kicks puppies, but that sounds….”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Kind of a low bar?” she suggested. “Boring? Like, you don’t want a doormat, Grades. You like a challenge.”

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