Page 9 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

“Really?”

“No. I’m fucking done with it. But no one else is going to do it.”

It takes longer than I was expecting for Garrett to notice that I take a right out of the diner instead of a left and then head in the opposite direction of my apartment.

“Sisi, have you forgotten where you live?” he eventually asks.

“Nope.”

“Then where are we going?”

“Surprise.”

When I glance over, I find intrigue written across his face.

It’s another twenty minutes before he gets his answer.

“Oh my god, you haven’t managed to get us appointments,” he breathes when I pull up to a spa hotel he’s been wanting to visit for a while.

“Who has the best sister in the world?”

“Seriously. You have?”

“A girl I trained with recently got a job there. She owed me a favor. I hear they have excellent anti-aging treatments.”

“Ignoring that. You are the best sister in the world. Thank you,” he says, excitedly pulling me in for an awkward one-armed hug.

We have the best afternoon at the spa. The full-body massage was more than needed after the number of boxes I’ve lifted and furniture I’ve moved in the last two weeks.

When we leave, I feel like a whole new woman, and I’m very glad I splurged on a treat for both of us. And of course, the surprises don’t end there.

I don’t say a word about our plans for the evening. Every time Garrett says something, I lie about having boxes to unpack.

It becomes very obvious it’s bullshit when we walk into my new apartment a little while later and he realizes that I’ve pretty much unpacked everything.

“Oh shit, this looks incredible,” he says, his eyes scanning the space. Okay, so it’s a little empty, but I’m gonna have to get used to that, because I can’t afford to fill my apartment with the kind of furniture it deserves right now. “Is there anything left to do?”

“Well…honestly, no, not really.”

“Oooookay. So, we’re just hanging out then?”

“Yeah, I thought we could chill, watch the game, order takeout.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I do have one box to unpack, though,” I confess before disappearing to my bedroom to collect it.

“What’s that?” he asks the second I reappear.

“Open it and find out,” I say, lowering it to his lap.

He narrows his eyes on me for a beat, but his curiosity wins out, and he’s soon flipping open the flaps and gazing inside.

“Sienna,” he breathes when he discovers the tickets for tonight’s game.

“Happy birthday.”

“My birthday is over a month away.”