Chapter Twenty-Two

RILEY VAGUELY recalled having some important conversation with Halley in the men’s room, but he didn’t remember it. It might have ended with a handshake or a hug. Not a fistfight, though.

Not a blow job either. That was a bathroom conversation with Ethan—not Halley.

Riley and Ethan spent the day after their win lazing around and watching game highlights on YouTube. Someone had uploaded Ryan’s proposal, and the video had almost as many hits as Riley’s scorpion save. Ethan made them watch the save video four or five times because it got him hot, and Riley ended up getting a blow job out of it.

Then Riley made them watch Ethan’s goal over and over, because Riley loved the way Ethan laughed when his teammates crashed into him to celebrate.

“I wasn’t laughing. I was wheezing,” Ethan protested.

Riley’s favorite part was the little salute Ethan gave his family as he smiled up at them in the stands and flashed the number three.

When some greasy food, a shower, and a few beers made them feel better, Riley showed Ethan the rope he bought on Amazon.com—the kind that was specifically meant to be used to tie people up for sex.

“Where would we be without the Internet?” Ethan was sprawled, panting and naked, on Riley’s bed with red rope still tied to each wrist.

“Still trying to figure out hand jobs?” Riley offered, and Ethan cracked up. Riley thought of all the things he’d fought for and won during the year, and how the tattooed idiot laughing on his bed was maybe his favorite.

IT WAS two days after the Sea Storm’s win, and between the locker-room champagne, the family dinner, and the drunken celebration with his teammates, Riley hadn’t had a chance to talk to his sister. It was time to figure out when the hell she started dating Bennett Halley, because Riley was still not sure how that happened—and if Halley told him in the bathroom, Riley had forgotten already. Being a big brother who was involved in his little sister’s life meant having opinions about who she dated. Or so the handbook, as written by one Ethan Kennedy, suggested.

“I met him after the first practice I went to,” she said, looking a little nervous. “He’s a nice guy, Riley. But that’s not why I want to stay in Jacksonville. I swear.” Riley didn’t think it was, but it was nice to hear her say it. “I like him. I know what it’s like to try and be good enough to live up to someone’s expectations and how it can fuck around with your head. That’s all.” Madison opened the fridge and sighed. “Why do you drink this coconut stuff, Riley? It’s gross.”

“Martin Brodeur drinks it, and you get used to it,” Riley said, as if it were some kind of slogan. “It’s hydrating. And what do you mean, ‘live up to someone’s expectations’?”

“I mean,” Madison said, grabbing one of Ethan’s Pepsis instead and popping the top, “that’s what I’m always doing at home. Mom wants me to be this perfect trophy wife, like the first lady or something. Who knows. She set me up with Seth, you know. My umm… boyfriend.”

Riley raised his eyebrows. “Shouldn’t you maybe not call him that?”

“Okay. My former boyfriend. I’m pretty sure he got the hint that I wasn’t into him when I ran away from our engagement party and left the ring he gave me with his housekeeper.”

Riley raked a hand through his shower-damp hair. “Do you know how that sounds, Madison?”

“What? I left a note. What did you want me to do? Leave a diamond on his doorstep?”

“You couldn’t have told him in person?” Riley asked.

“That sort of defeats the point of running away,” she said, and Riley began to see that stubbornness might just run in their family. “And also, no. He’s very controlling. He would have done something to keep me there.”

“Something like what?” Riley asked, feeling dangerous. He didn’t need a handbook to know that kind of thing wasn’t okay.

Madison gave him a droll look. “Something like a super horrible guilt trip? This isn’t a Gillian Flynn novel, Riles. He wasn’t going to lock me in a garden shed. Anyway, you don’t understand, because you’ve never had to worry about any of this stuff with Mom and Dad.”

Riley gaped at her for a minute. “What? Yeah. Because they pretend I don’t exist, Mads. Do you know the last time I saw our parents was three years ago?”

“Yes. Because it’s the last time I saw you too. That’s what I mean, Riley. You’re lucky. You get to do whatever you want because Caleb is going to take over the business, and you don’t have to.” Madison downed some of her Pepsi. “Even though I’m way smarter than Caleb and also better at math.”

“I get to do whatever I want?” Riley remembered how his parents always treated him with casual neglect and all those lonely trips home in the car. After she learned that Madison hadn’t been kidnapped for ransom his mom hadn’t called again. “They forget I exist, Madison. They don’t care about me, and you think that’s better?”

“Honestly, Riley? Yeah. I do. They didn’t throw a fit when you wanted to play hockey. They just wrote checks and let you do it. When I started ballet, they insisted on going to all the performances and dissected my technique on the way home. When I wanted to join the volleyball team in high school, Mom told me that athletic girls didn’t get asked on dates and I should think about doing pageants instead.” Madison slammed her Pepsi on the counter. “Know what they got me for my eighteenth birthday? A nose job.”

Riley raised his voice. He couldn’t help it. “Know what they got me for my eighteenth birthday? A card signed by Dad’s assistant and a check. The same thing they get me every year.”

“Okay. Well, I got a perfect score on the math part of my SATs. How’s that?” Madison’s eyes gleamed bright. “At Brown I wanted to study business and accounting, but Mom insisted I join a sorority and study French Literature, because I wasn’t going to need a degree anyway. Then she politely suggested I spend less time studying and more time keeping my figure.

“And you? You’re playing hockey in North Florida, doing what you want to do, and there’s not a single goddamn problem with it. You don’t know how jealous I’ve always been of that. And I know it’s not fair. It’s not your fault our parents think of us as investment properties instead of kids. And I know you think it’s worse that you didn’t get any attention, but I’m telling you, the kind of attention they give is not like the Kennedys. Your Kennedys, that is. Maybe growing up in our house is more like the politician Kennedys.”

Riley gave a hollow laugh. “I guess you’re right. I never thought of it that way.” He hadn’t, and he also didn’t know she was that good at math. Or that she’d gone to Brown. Why the fuck didn’t he know his own sister? “I’m sorry, Madison. I should have been a better brother.”

“It’s not like you could have done anything. I mean, Riley, if you’d been a girl? Things would have been so different. I used to be mad about that, and then I realized it was stupid, and I should be glad at least one of us escaped,” she said and shook her head. “I feel really bad for Caleb. He’s probably got it worse than either of us. Did you know he follows all your games? He’s really proud of you. He tells everyone you play hockey. He was really good at baseball, but he never got to play after high school.”

Riley hadn’t seen, or spoken to, his older brother in so long he barely remembered what he looked like. Guilt was an unpleasant coil in the pit of his stomach, especially when he heard his brother was proud of him for his hockey career. It wasn’t surprising that Caleb never said anything to him, though. His family’s motto seemed to be “Keep all your emotions to yourself.”

“I wish things weren’t like this. It’s stupid that we barely know each other. I shouldn’t have lumped you and Caleb in with our parents. I just assumed….” Riley was uncomfortable with the conversation because he was angry at his parents, and he didn’t think he was going to not be anytime soon.

Madison wrapped her arms around herself and looked at the ground. “You just assumed we didn’t want anything to do with you. I know. It’s not like I made an effort either, and I hardly ever see or hear from Caleb that often myself. But Riley, I admire what you’ve done. That’s all. And maybe if you had a little sister tagging along, you wouldn’t have gotten where you are.”

Riley hugged her. “That’s not true. I played every game in the finals knowing you were up there watching, Madison. Maybe I wouldn’t have played so well if you weren’t there.” Riley smiled a little. “Goalies are superstitious. So now you’re going to have to stick around.”

Madison gave a little hiccuping laugh. “Good. Because I’m going to take my CPA exam and open an accounting firm here in Florida. There’s all kinds of rich people around here who need accountants, Riley. Did you know that?”

“I don’t even know how to balance my checkbook,” Riley said, and she giggled even though he wasn’t kidding. “Seriously. Can you do mine?”

“Maybe. I’ll cut you a family rate.” Madison pulled back, and Riley—who understood very well the need to regain one’s personal space—politely stood back and let her. He and his sister were so much alike. “Speaking of family. If you and Ethan get married someday—which by the way you totally should. You two are adorable—does that make me related to his family? Because I love them. Kelsey could totally be a model, but all Maura talked about was how smart she was. And Maura saw someone giving Britt a weird look about her tattoos when we went out to dinner one night in Tulsa, and went on about how they were art and people should get over that whole stigma about them. I bet Maura would have let me be on the volleyball team, keep my old nose, and be an accountant.”

They stared at each other, and then started laughing.

“So now you’re dating Bennett Halley,” Riley said, sighing. “I beat him up once.”

“He told me,” she said. “I like him. Also your team colors go good with my coloring. I’m glad you don’t play for Tulsa. Ugh. That shade of orange is so dated. Seriously. But what’s up with the tornado logo on your uniform? It looks so angry.”

“It has a lot of tornado rage? Maybe the clouds that spawned it were bad parents,” he joked, and she snorted.

“Seriously though, you’re not mad? That I’m moving here? I mean, I should maybe go somewhere by myself, but….” She stopped and looked at him hopefully.

“No. I’m glad,” Riley assured her, because he was. “But you know I’m going to read Halley the riot act. If he hurts your feelings, I’ll kill him.”

“Riley. We’re just talking. It’s not serious yet or anything. That was the first time he kissed me.” Madison blushed. “I think he just got a little caught up in winning.”

“It better be him getting caught up in you being smart and pretty,” Riley growled, but he put his arm around her shoulders. “Fine. I won’t threaten Halley with death for dating you. Only hurting your feelings or making a single inappropriate comment where I can hear it.”

“Geez, Riley,” Madison said, but she looked more than a little pleased.