Page 92 of No Rhyme or Roughing
I hadn’t realized Teddy was so like me, so cynical about romance. He always hid behind his smiles and charm, pretending nothing got to him.
I’d been wrong about a lot.
Jameson was stayingat a hotel near the arena under the name Lee Adama. He’d always loved his space shows.
At the front desk, I had them call up to his room. He came down moments later, arms spread wide. I ran into them, burying my face in his chest.
“Am I a horrible person?” I mumbled into the fabric of his shirt.
He gently pushed me back, holding me at arm’s length to study my face. “Never. But you need a drink.”
“It’s not even noon.”
“That’s why Bloody Marys exist.” He pulled the brim of his ball cap lower over his face and led me to the hotel bar.
The bar was nearly empty, but Jameson always preferred to avoid recognition. I slid onto a stool while he ordered himself a drink. I stuck with water.
We sat in silence for a while. I busied myself folding the wrapper from my paper straw into a caterpillar. Using the straw, I dripped water onto it, but it didn’t move.
“Can’t even do that right,” I muttered.
Jameson nudged me with his elbow. “Too much water. Watch.” He executed the trick perfectly, the wrapper writhing a bit before dying.
“Show-off.”
He shrugged. “Some of us are good at everything.”
I shoved him playfully. He barely moved, but his back shook with laughter. “I’ve missed you,” he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
“So much so that you hooked up with one of the dancers before I even left?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Babe, we both knew we were just using each other. Ienjoyed your company, but you never wanted anything real from me.”
“What even is this ‘real’ you speak of?”
“Hmm… I don’t know. Maybe trusting someone enough to dance in front of a crowd during a hockey game.”
“Shut up. You talked to Teddy.”
“He thinks this Ryan guy is in love with you.”
“Ryder.”
“I know.” He grinned. “Wanted to see how fast you’d correct me.”
“Is he?” he asked.
“Is he what?”
“In love with you?”
“Maybe?” I threw my hands up in defeat. “How should I know? I don’t want him to be.”
“Poor guy.” Jameson shook his head. “I pity the fool who makes you care about them.”
“I’ve known him my entire life. Of course I care.”
“That’s not what I meant.” His smirk was irritating, but he wasn’t my brother, so yelling at him wasn’t an option.
