Page 79 of Icebound

Nina’s cheeks turn pink under the fluorescent lights, and she waves a casual hand. “We’re just friends. I didn’t realize Rhode was your brother. I gave him a ride once.” She winces, then backtracks. “I mean, in a car. Wait, that’s not better. I didn’t ride him in a car. What I meant was—”

I squeeze her shoulder. “We met a few months ago. We’re friends now.”

Wyn’s eyes narrow on me and yeah, here it comes, the lecture on how Nina’s too young for me. “I didn’t realize you were friends with people I went to school with, Ro. It seems like you two are the friendliest of friends.”

A smile lights up my sister’s face. “Which is great! It’ll be nice to have another girl around because it’s always testosterone overload over here. Speaking of which, I came to find you after the game and tell you what an idiot you are for fighting Cruz. Delay of game penalties at your age? Really, Ro? You know better.”

Nina gasps, grabbing Wyn’s shoulder. “I was thinking the same thing!”

Great, now they’re bonding. Though, I’m a little surprised Wyn’s not lecturing me, and, come to think of it, that Nina knows the meaning of a delay of game penalty. Maybe I’m the only one overthinking the age difference.

“Rhode, there you are!”

My spine goes rigid at that familiar voice.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see Morgan striding down the hallway wearing my Guardians jersey. The man won’t stop showing up to my games, no matter how hard I push him away.

The bright number Thirty is plastered to the navy front. His hair is thick like mine, but while I’ve got a speckle of silver at my temples, he’s gray throughout. I grit my jaw every time I’m forced to look at him because we’ve got the same blue eyes, dimple, and jawline.

I’m the spitting image of Morgan Tremblay—just nineteen years younger.

My father shoves his hands in his jeans pockets and rocks back on his heels the same way I do. “Hey, son. Great game today, though, that fight on the ice looked a bit rough. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” I say with clenched fists, gesturing to Nina. “Morgan, this is Nina, my friend. Nina, this is Morgan Tremblay. My father.”

Their eyes stretch wide, matching each other’s shock, but instead of judgment on my father’s face, there’s a big, genuine smile. Nina looks at me with a question in her eyes, so I nod. I’ve never introduced my family to any of the women I’ve dated, but I don’t mind them meeting Nina.

My father takes her hand, shaking it enthusiastically like he's greeting our general manager. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Nina.”

Her lips curve. “It’s really nice to meet you, too, Mr. Tremblay.”

“Please, call me Morgan. My own son does,” he adds, sounding bitter.

He squeezes her hand, revealing his dimpled grin. While I’ve got one, he has two on each side. That slight difference always puts a smug smile on my face.

“It’s nice to meet someone in my son’s life since he normally doesn’t introduce me to his friends. Wyn and I were heading out to get dinner, but we wanted to stop by after the game to see if you’d like to come. You can join us too, Nina.”

“Sorry, we can’t,” I interject before she can say anything. “I have to take Nina home, and I’ve got a string of away games to prepare for next week.”

“Are you sure?” Nina asks. “I can find a ride home. I don’t mind.”

“No, I want to take you home.” I peer into her hazels behind her glasses, and she nods. Somehow, we’re able to communicate without words.

I’m not sure that’s a good thing.

“Oh. Alright, sure. Maybe next time.” A hint of sadness appears in my father’s eyes, but it’s a reaction I’ve come to expect whenever I turn him away. Every time he flies to Nashville, I’ve got an armory of excuses at the ready. He musters a grin, and I respond with a grimace, a reflex as ingrained in me as dropping down into butterfly.

Morgan nods. “Right. Well, maybe we’ll see you tomorrow for lunch with Wyn? I’m flying back home to Seattle to see your mom on Friday.”

I hitch my gym bag over my shoulder. “Can’t. I’ve got to pack.”

My sister gives me her big, sad eyes that I’ve grown immune to. “Please, Ro? Come with us? It’ll be fun.”

I pull Wyn into a hug, whispering in her ear. “I’ll get lunch with you when I get back, but I’m not going with him. It’s awkward.”

Wyn’s shoulders sink. “Fine, but you know I hate this. I just want all of us to get along.”

I kiss the top of her head. “We’ll do lunch another time. We better head out. It was nice seeing you, Morgan.”