Page 34 of Hot Shot
“Yeah, your mom is the best woman I know.”
His words have me laughing and nostalgia rolls through me.
This used to be us.
Banter and jokes and having a good time.
I hope it’s a good sign.
I hope Bran can forgive himself for all that’s happened because the more time I spend with him, the more he opens up, the more I realize I don’t need to. If I ever did.
My feelings for Bran have always been complicated. For a while he was like another younger brother, annoying as hell and one I had to compete with on the ice. Then somewhere around the time he hit his senior year of high school, something changed.
Maybe nothing really changed, maybe I just opened my eyes and saw him as more than a competitor. Saw him outside of being my brothers’ friend. Somewhere in there, he became my friend.
His second year of college cemented our relationship. His struggle to cope with his mom’s death sent him into a spiral and I was the closest in our family to his location.
Since I’d left home, it was the only time we had lived in the same city.
We spent more time together that year than we had the rest of our lives put together.
“Hey.” Bran’s hand lands on mine. “You okay?”
“Yes. Sorry. Just thinking.”
“About what a great date you’re on, I hope.”
“Oh, this is a date? I thought—” His hand squeezing mine cuts me off.
“I said I wouldn’t push and I won’t. That was a joke. A bad one I guess.”
“Not a bad one. And we can call it a date.”
“You’re going to be my boss. How does that work? Dating the boss?
“No clue. We don’t have any rules about dating within the org. It would be pretty hypocritical of us with Oakley and Walker.”
“True. How—” He’s interrupted by Marg delivering our drinks.
“Your food will be out in a minute. Can I get you anything else?”
“No. I’m good. Blake?”
“I’m good too. Thanks, Marg.”
“You’re welcome. Just holler if you think of something I can get you.” Her words are accompanied by a look of yearning sent in Bran’s direction.
“You really do have an admirer,” I say when we’re alone again.
“I don’t know what to do about that. It’s easy when she delivers the groceries. I pay her and shut the door.”
“You do not shut the door in her face!”
“Not in her face…” He visibly cringes. “Okay, maybe in her face.Shit.”
Laughing, I reach for my iced tea and take a sip. “I’m sure she doesn’t see it that way. Not with the way she’s still looking at you.”
“I’ve discovered I can’t influence other people’s minds.”
