Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Farren wrinkles her nose. “No thanks. I’m sure there are hundreds of bartending jobs. I’ll get something quick.”
I don’t bother mentioning that Hendrix’s fiancée, Stevie, owns a bar and I could probably hook Farren up with something. I’m not going to make it easy on her. “Two weeks,” I tell her with a stern look. “Have a job by then and you can stay.”
“Easy peasy,” she croons.
Despite my frustrations with her impulsiveness, a part of me is genuinely happy to have her here. Even though I’m four years older than her twenty-three years, we’ve always been close. And maybe that’s why I’m not really bothered by the five-year age gap between me and Tempe. I see so much of my sister’s vitality within her, although I definitely don’t have any brotherly thoughts about Tempe.
Quite the opposite.
“Are you hungry?” I ask and Farren nods. I turn to the fridge, pull out stuff for a quick hoagie. “Want to come to the game tonight? I can snag a ticket.”
“Well, duh,” she says with an eye roll. “There’s never a time I don’t want to see you play.”
A surge of fondness hits me. “I love you too, sis. Give me a second.”
From my phone, I send a quick text to our player services liaison, asking if it’s possible to add another ticket onto the three I requested so that they’re all together. After a bit of back-and-forth, he’s able to get four tickets only three rows off the ice and even provides me with the confirmation number. I, in turn, send it on to Tempe, making a note to send her a more detailed text to let her know about Farren.
Shoving my phone in my pocket, I turn to my sister who’s shoving a handful of potato chips into her mouth. “I added a ticket for you to a group of three I’d already arranged for some friends.”
Farren’s eyes flash with interest. “Are they hot and single guys by any chance?”
“No,” I growl and then add, “And gross. None of my friends should be of interest to you. Actually, it’s my friend Tempe and her younger brother, Cooper, and his friend, Danny.”
“Tempe?” She quirks an eyebrow, and I realize I haven’t told her about any of that yet. “You have a friend who’s a girl but not a girlfriend.”
“Well, that depends how you look at it,” I mutter. “It’s kind of a long story.” I take a deep breath, detailing everything from the fake girlfriend setup to deal with Tansy’s obsession, to Tempe’s unexpected role in all of it, and how it’s sort of evolved. Farren listens, her expressions ranging from amused to incredulous.
“So, let me get this straight,” she starts with her sandwich poised before her mouth. “You’re paying a woman to pretend to be your girlfriend because of Tansy, and now you might actually like her? That’s… kind of romantic, in a twisted sort of way.”
“Wait a minute,” I say, holding up my hand. “Who said I liked her?”
“I did.” She winks. “Because you went to her house and helped her mom and then got her and her brother hockey tickets.”
“That’s just added bonus to her for helping me out.”
“Whatever,” she says dismissively, but then her expression turns calculating. “I’m looking forward to meeting this Tempe. Sounds like a hoot.”
“You behave around her,” I warn, pointing my finger at my little sister.
“Of course I will,” she says, and I don’t believe it for a minute. But ultimately, I know Farren would never do or say anything to put me in a bad light, so I’m not too worried.
Turning my wrist over, I see I’m about five minutes late getting out the door. “I need to go. You good with taking an Uber to the arena?”
“Yup,” she says. “I’ll get settled in and then I want to take a shower to wash off the stink of bus.”
Laughing, I walk around the counter and give her a quick hug. “Glad you’re here.”
“Glad to be here,” she replies, squeezing me back extra hard.
CHAPTER 9
Tempe
I’ve never been to a professional hockey game before, so when the towering glass doors of the arena swing open, ushering us into a wave of noise and bustling crowds, it’s like stepping into another world. The air buzzes with excitement, the amplified voices of fans blending into a chorus of anticipation. Cooper and Danny have been to a game before and they’re trying to act cool, but both are looking around with wide eyes.
We picked up the tickets Rafferty left for us at will call, but before we go to our seats, we decide to walk around the entire arena concourse. The food smells heavenly—hot dogs, pretzels, cinnamon pecans and popcorn. My mouth waters as I haven’t eaten anything other than my standard protein bar for breakfast and half a tuna sandwich at lunch, and yet I can’t decide what to get.