Page 9 of No Rhyme or Roughing
There were only two people in my life I’d showcase—Mom and Teddy. I liked to keep them in my head, in my heart. I didn’t need pictures to remember the importance of my small family. Dad died when I was little, but I had no memories of him. It had always just been Mom, my brother, and the Valentines.
Sydy.
The girl currently lying down on her brother’s couch.
That wasn’t right. I grabbed my pillow off the bed and shuffled into the hall. The place was huge, with three bedrooms and two living rooms. It spanned three bamboo floors and included every luxury. Basically, a guylike me didn’t belong in Alameda, let alone a house like this.
Down on the main floor, I entered the living room, careful to keep my steps light in case she was asleep. Sydney lay on her stomach, blonde hair shielding her face. She wore baggy pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt with holes along the hem. Thank God for that.
“Is someone there?” Her voice was so soft it startled me.
I cleared my throat. “I… uh…”
Shifting onto her back, she pushed light strands of hair out of her face and reached for the lamp to turn it on. All traces of makeup had been washed away, and for the first time, I saw hints of the little girl I’d known. Not in a creepy way, but a familiar one. It immediately put me at ease.
“Comfortable?” I asked.
She grimaced then shrugged. “I’m okay.”
“It’s good to see you again, Sydney.” I lowered myself onto the admittedly terrible couch, taking care to maintain a respectable distance between us. “You can take my room.” I gestured to the pillow I still held. “That’s what I came out here to say. I didn’t like the idea of you sleeping on the couch.”
She studied me for a moment that stretched far too long. “Some things never change.”
“What does that mean?”
She shrugged again, like she had more to say but decided against it. That wasn’t the Sydy I’d known. She’d been outspoken, loud, and boisterous. Not this quiet ghost.
I shrugged, reminding myself a lot of time had passed. “I’m still an asshole.”
Her laughter filled the space between us. “No. You never were that.”
I wasn’t known as the nicest guy on the team or with fans, but I was honest and reliable. I knew how to motivate my teammates and make our fans believe in false hopes. Over the years of disappointment in my career, all I’d wanted was to play hockey. Since Sam, relationships felt like distractions unless they were with my team. Friendships were too much work if I hadn’t known the person already—like Teddy.
Maybe that was why the guys deferred to me even before I got the C. Sure, when I first signed with the team, it was only because Mr. Mac, the team’s owner, called. As my father’s oldest friend, the one who’d taken me under his wing young, there was no denying the man. Or maybe they knew hockey was all I had, so it got every part of me.
“Did I lose you?” A tentative smile played on her lips.
A thought occurred to me. “Did Teddy see your car tonight?” I’d checked it when I got home. The damage was minor, but noticeable.
One shoulder lifted. “You know how observant he is.”
As in, not at all.
I laughed. “He wouldn’t notice a dancing gorilla if it jumped on the ice. We could screw right here on this couch in front of him, and he’d—” My voice trailed off as she met my gaze. A rosy color spread across her cheeks.
I coughed, looking away.
“Sorry.” I winced. “I forgot who you were for a moment. I think I’m just tired. I need some sleep. Early skate tomorrow after the loss.” Lies. All lies. I couldn’t stop yearning to hear her soft voice say something meaningful, anything more than this casual politeness she’d adopted.
She jumped to her feet. “Oh, I’m keeping you up. Are you sure I can take your room?”
“Are you trying to talk me out of it? I’m being chivalrous here.”
She laughed softly. “Thank you. I’ll walk away now before I end up turning you down. It. Turningitdown.” She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath.
It was all I could do not to laugh at her. Was she nervous, or was this who she’d become?
She pressed her lips together, holding back further words, gave me one final look, and turned toward the stairs.
