Destiny on Ice (Boys of Winter #1)(69)

I quickly look away.

When I venture a glance over at her, her eyes are wide and her mouth is agape.

“Don’t say a word,” I warn.

Of course, that doesn’t stop Lainey.

“Holy crap, Aubrey, Whiskey Eyes is a hockey player, isn’t he? He must’ve been your client. What’d you say your guy’s name was? Brent, right? What’s his last name? I’m so Googling him once you’re in that shower.”

“No, don’t,” I plead.

And that confirms it for my sister. “Oh my God, you fell for your client. I knew it was bound to happen. I’m right, aren’t I?”

I sigh because, really, wait till she hears the rest. Like the part where she and I were at Brent’s party the day before I met him.

For now, though, I stick with, “That’s the short version, but yes, you’re right. I fell for a damn freaking client.”

The room’s filling with steam, so she points to the shower and says, “Get in there. I’ll put some clean clothes on the counter. But after you’re dressed you are so telling me every detail.”

I shouldn’t divulge anything, but I don’t care anymore. “Okay,” I agree. “We’ll talk when I’m done.”

When I emerge from the shower, there’s a pair of skinny jeans, a black tank with spaghetti straps, and a plaid button-down shirt waiting for me on the counter. The clothes are neatly stacked, and they’re in Al’s fuzzy green lap. Lainey has one of his long green arms positioned high in the air, like he’s waving at me.

It’s a silly but sweet gesture that brings a much-needed smile to my lips.

I blow-dry my hair and dress in the clothes Lainey set out. I even put in my contacts. Though they’re extended-wear, I haven’t worn them in days. I’ve been living in my glasses.

Finally feeling much better, and certainly much cleaner, I head down to the living room.

My sister, bless her heart, has cracked open a bottle of wine. I’m going to need some in order to tell her the whole Brent story.

“Here,” she says, holding out a full wineglass to me by the stem. “I poured one for you, already.”

“Thanks,” I reply.

I take the glass and sit down next to Lainey on the sofa. Her legs are curled up under her, so I follow suit. This is how we’ve hunkered down a million times, ready to dish. Only this time Lainey is one step ahead of me. She has her laptop open, and when I lean in to take a peek I see there’s a team pic of Brent filling the screen.

She taps the screen. “So it seems you’ve been holding out on me big-time, haven’t you? Brent Oliver is gorgeous, yes. And he was your client, yes. But there’s more. You never told me Whiskey Eyes is freaking Sunflower Eyes!”

“Um…” I take a small sip of wine. “I couldn’t say anything, remember?”

Lainey shakes her head. “Wow, still…the same guy from the party ends up being your client. That’s crazy. What are the odds of that happening?”

“Extremely low, I’m sure.”

“You must’ve died when you first saw him.”

“You don’t even know the half of it, Lainey.”

“Good thing he didn’t recognize you. You were so drunk that night.”

“Uh, who said he didn’t recognize me?” I mumble.

“What? How could that be? You never talked to him, at least not when I was there. Did you meet him before your Uber got there that night?”

Taking another tiny sip of wine, I smile to myself.

“Aubrey,” Lainey begins in her best warning tone. “What are you not telling me?”

I cock my head and roll my eyes up to the ceiling. Tapping my chin, I say all evasive-like, “Oh, I don’t know. I may have neglected to mention that I never left that night. And I may have kind of ended up in Brent’s bed.”

“Holy shit!” Her eyes, same turquoise color as mine, widen. “You slept with Sunflower Eyes that night?”

“No,” I clarify. “I passed out drunk in his bed and just happened to wake up next to him.”

“That must’ve been a sight,” Lainey says, chuckling. “Did you fall in love right then and there?”

“Hardly,” I scoff, recalling the encounter. “We kind of hated each other at first.” I can’t help but smile when I add, “I thought he had stolen my panties and called him out for being a sick pervert and a pig. He didn’t appreciate that very much.”

“How romantic,” my sister says dryly. “I can see how that all led to love.”

I throw a pillow at her. “You’re such a bitch.”

“And you’re such a slut.”

I laugh. “With him, you bet I am. Or…was.”

Her expression turns serious. “Seriously, Aubrey, what happened between you two? Why’d you break it off with him?”

“I’ll tell you everything, but first—” I pick up the bottle and swish around the pinot noir. “—I think we need more wine.”





By the time the pinot noir is empty, Lainey knows everything.

“There has to be a way for you to be together,” she says wistfully.

My sister, the romantic.