Ache For Me: A Hockey Romance (The Banks Sisters Book 1) Read online

  “Mickey’s back home and she wants me to come sleepover.”

  “That’s why you’re not packing any clothes? And what am I, chopped liver?” Keyra narrows her eyes and stands in my doorway.

  “We’re almost the same size, I can just wear something of hers. And you’re welcome to come if you’d like.” The lies just keep piling on. I know damned well there’s no way my ass and tits will fit any into clothing of hers. Keyra knows it too.

  I don’t even know why I’m lying in the first place. I’m a grown ass woman.

  “You need to tread carefully, Kaija. We have enough to worry about right now without you letting an….eternal screw-up mess anything up.” I scrunch my face up, annoyed.

  “That definitely wasn’t written for press-approval, Keyra. Be careful, your privilege is showing through.”

  “She’s a bad influence on you. And it’s bad optics. I can’t keep everything from hitting the stands, you know that.”

  “Who asked you to?”

  She crosses her arms, shaking her head like I’m misbehaving. “See, that’s what I mean. You’re already not acting like yourself.”

  I snap.

  “I might be your baby sister, but I am not a baby. I’ve been supporting myself and never asked for a single handout. Even when I fucked up, I fixed my own mistakes. When are y’all going to let me live?”

  She has this pitying look in her eye, like I just don’t understand. Like she knows so much more than me and is waiting for me to catch up. That’s what happens when you’ve got an overbearing sister and your dad’s from a family of politicians. At least our step-mom Sina just let’s me be.

  Keyra and Michaela have never gotten along. Mickey is Sina’s daughter from her previous marriage, but we’ve always been thick as thieves.

  Well, they did at one point. But I don’t think Keyra ever forgave her for her part in what happened.

  “Listen, I’m just going to go over and I’ll be back tomorrow. You are welcome to stay here.” I just barely manage to keep from rolling my eyes. That would earn me another admonishment.

  “Don’t forget, we have brunch tomorrow.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. It’s literally on the same day every two months. We’ve been doing it for two years now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it.” I can’t help the bitterness creeping into my voice, but per usual, Keyra ignores it. She likes things simple. Even her angry is some weird kind of calm. Eventually, I stopped trying to get a real rise out of her. She’s hard to get to, even though I know family is first to her.

  Except when Michaela is in town. Then, at least I see a little bit of something that might be able to be interpreted as worry or emotion.

  I guess the threat to our little family bubble of bland bliss is the only thing she truly cares about on a deeper level. I used to doubt that I was included in that category.

  “Well, drive safely. Don’t get into any trouble,” she warns, aka Don’t give me any more work to do.

  “I will. See you tomorrow.” I leave and give her a wave, under her still disapproving expression.

  Oh well, I’ve been making my own decisions for a long time now and I’m not going to stop just because Dad’s in the running for mayor.

  When my driver texts me that he’s there, I go outside and hop into the little sedan. The lights in my house go dark.

  Good, if she’s headed to bed, she won’t text me making sure we’re being good little children.

  I hook my phone up to the aux and turn on Bryson Tiller. As the guy follows the GPS route for the location Michaela gave me, I squint as the streetlights become a little more sparse and the area gets a bit more run down.

  What the hell has she gotten into this time?

  6

  Kaija

  I look out of the window at the dark street.

  I’m not scared. But I am slightly worried.

  Mickey’s always been impulsive. Never with bad intentions towards anyone, she’s just…not the best at thinking before she acts sometimes.

  “Do you uh…you want me to wait for you?” Cam, my Uber driver, meets my eyes through the rearview mirror with raised eyebrows.

  My phone pings with a text from Mickey asking where I am, and I shake my head, tucking it into my jacket jeans after I respond.

  “I’ll be fine. Thanks!” I get out and watch him pull away without a second glance.

  Well then.

  There’s a large door in front of me but there’s no handle. I peer at it, passing my hands over the sides and the bottom, but it doesn’t seem to have any type of way to open it.

  Cautiously, I knock.

  “Oh shit!” I jump back when a rectangular eye hole slides open.

  “Uh hi, I’m looking for Michaela?” I say hopefully.

  My phone pings again, and I glance at it.

  It only has a text with one word, “Rubiks.”

  “What kind of cube?” The guy grunts and I glance at my phone again.

  “Uh…Rubiks?”

  The viewer slides shut and I hear a few clinks. The door opens, exposing a dim hallway.

  This would be the part in the scary movie where the black person dies first. Why do I get myself into these situations?

  I walk through, glancing at the guy as he closes the door and stands in front of it, arms crossed and legs wide. He looks exactly like the kind of guy who’d be guarding something sketchy, minus the prison neck tattoo that is. But he’s got the all black and shaved head part down.

  I walk gingerly to the end of the corridor and reach another door. I push it and am immediately blinded by strobe-lights that would cause some issues if anyone were epileptic.

  Music is loud as hell, and everywhere I look, there are people. I wedge myself into a miraculously clear corner and text Mickey. Before I can send it, someone pops in front of me.

  “Took you long enough!” She yells. Mickey’s eyes are bright, almost unnaturally so, and her short hair is tousled sexily. Her svelte shape is just barely covered in a deep blue strapless dress that molds to her toned waist and stops a few inches short of indecent.

  “Mickey, you had me come to a club and didn’t tell me so I could, I don’t know…dress for it?”

  “I knew you’d probably make some excuse to stay at home. And don’t worry, you can get a guy wearing a paper sack.” She pecks me on the cheek and clutches my arm, pulling me with her through the crowd.

  “That’s what I might as well be wearing compared to what you have on.” I complain, following her up a small set of stairs and settling on some couches behind a rope.

  Strobe lights and loud music, mixed with the pungent smell of lust, sweat, and alcohol. Exactly Mickey’s type of place.

  She turns to me and grabs me up in a huge bear hug and I can’t help but smile.

  Mickey was the reason I’d had to get my juvenile record sealed, but she has a good heart. She’s just a wild spirit that doesn’t care for many restraints.

  Imagine the adjustment when her mom married a man all about rules and structure.

  “Hey, Mickey.” She pulls back and surveys me, kissing both my cheeks as she squeezes them in her talon tipped hands.

  “I’m so happy to see you!” She throws an arm around my shoulder, turning me to the two guys that have started stroking each other’s faces. They take a break to wave and wink at me. Well damn.

  “That’s Richie, and the one on the right is Luke, my boyfriend.”

  “Is Richie your boyfriend too?” I ask, slightly impressed. Neither are my cup of tea, but they’re cute in an “I was born privileged and now I like to pretend like I slum it” type of way.

  “He’s our boyfriend,” she winks and I can’t help but giggle. Typical.

  “So what was so important that I had to risk the family wrath to come out here?”

  “Oh please. They’ll get over it.” She scoffs, plopping down on the booth and motioning for me to follow suit. “Anyways, I’ve heard things through the grapevine.”
<
br />   “What grapevine and what have you heard?”

  She turns my chin with one finger towards the end of the bar, and I think she’s about to point out one of the guys sitting there. Instead, she tips my chin up to where there’s a landing overlooking the party crowd. There are two guys talking to each other, facing away from the industrial railing, and I can’t really make out any features except that they both look big. And they’re obviously white. Nothing else.

  “Remember my ex from college?”

  “The football player that you dropped because he wouldn’t have sex with you as early as you wanted? Yeah, it was a conversation that scarred me for life.”

  “Hey, it was a good bonding experience for us. Talking about boys and sex.”

  “I was 15 and hadn’t even kissed a boy.” I remind her.

  “Yeah, well,” she smiles sheepishly, “Big sisters are supposed to guide you with that type of stuff.”

  “I don’t know if you can call you yelling about how he should’ve been grateful you blessed his life with your presence as guidance.”

  She shrugs good-naturedly, a reddish bang falling over her precisely made up eyes. “Yeah, well, I tried.”

  I smile, shaking my head. “You did. So what about him?”

  “Well…I kind of miss him. And I hear you and he have a mutual friend. I need you to get me into his place so I can…persuade him to take me back.”

  It’s important to note that until this very moment, I really didn’t realize just how fucking preposterous my sister could be sometimes.

  I open my mouth, then close it. Open it again, but I can’t really decide what to say. It’s really only something that makes sense to Mickey. Like, normal people can’t go through their lives with even half of the thought process she has and not be locked up somewhere.

  There’s no fucking way.

  “You want me…to…get you into a guy’s place because how many years later, you’ve decided you really miss him? Do you know how little sense that makes? And who is our mutual friend?”

  “A hockey player that I hear you know. Anyways, there’s usually a little after party and your guy is there sometimes. Get him to invite us, then I have an opening.” She moues, clapping her hands together. “Sound good? Oh, and what other hockey player do you know but Harlan Reed?”

  “How do you know I know him?” I narrow my eyes.

  “People talk.” She sips innocently from her straw, not looking at me.

  “Holy hell, is there anyone that Charlie doesn’t talk to in this family?”

  “He just wanted to make sure he has my support or whatever. Since I’m still affiliated with the good ole family, even though I’m Keyra’s black sheep these days.”

  “And you somehow got to talking about me?”

  “Well, he wanted to know how to…get through to you, so to speak. Apparently you have walls up. He mentioned the airport and yanno, things just went from there.”

  “That is exactly why I will never be doing anything with that man. He talks too damn much and he’s looking to build the perfect wife for his run. You know I want nothing to do with those kinds of politics.”

  “When do we have to start doing shit?” She sits back in her seat and crosses her arms.

  “Soon. You know we’ll have to make appearances, even you since you’ve back in town.”

  “I’m stockpiling tequila and weed for my sanity. I’m always willing to share.”

  “How kind of you.” I deadpan, shaking my head. “Harlan and I met once and we’re not on speaking terms. I’m no help there.”

  “What’d you do?” She purses her lips, leaning back into Richie when he snakes an arm around her waist.

  “Excuse me, I never do anything. He was being an asshole.”

  “Why would he be an asshole when you’ve only met once? What reason would he have?” She asks suspiciously and I fidget. “Nuh uh girl, spill.”

  “Uh…” I swipe her drink, taking a hefty sip. “We like, had a brief encounter…on the plane. Possibly indecent…nothing serious.”

  Mickey puts a hand on her exposed cleavage mockingly. “Excuse me? My reformed sister, hooking up with strangers? Oh, my word. Is this pride I feel? He was forearm guy??”

  I roll my eyes. “Yep. And whatever.”

  “Well, you might be in luck.”

  “Why?” I duck down a little. Please don’t let him be here.

  “Because Brandon is coming over here, and I think I can close the deal myself.” She winks and rises from her seat, stepping over me gingerly in her rail thin heels.

  I glance at Richie and Luke, but they don’t seem to mind that their girlfriend is draping her arms over another guy in front of them.

  Too open for me.

  I watch Mickey.

  She’s her animated, lively self. The fun sister. Fearless. Never a care in the world, always living her life to the fullest.

  I’ve envied her more than once. I can’t help my laugh when Brandon relaxes his tense body and wraps his arms around her.

  Magical, my sister.

  She flounces back over to me and grabs my arm. “Alright little sis, off to the after-party we go.” She pecks Luke on the cheek and then Richie, holding their hands as she whispers to them. They just smile and kiss her on the cheeks.

  Most amicable breakup I’ve ever seen, I should take some pointers.

  Not that I’d ever need that advice. Relationships aren’t my thing.

  I should go home to my warm bed, but of course, I can’t make my life too easy.

  After-party it is.

  7

  Harlan

  “You talkin’ a lot of smack for someone with a shit hand.” Dane raises an eyebrow over his cards, daring Hanson to say something.

  “You know something I don’t know? ‘Cause I’m lookin’ at my hand right now and I think you’re in trouble.”

  “Both of you need to shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.” I laugh at Leo’s grumbling, so typical of the hot-tempered Canadian.

  I’ve never heard a sorry spill from his lips, unless it was facetious. And there was that time he apologized to another defensemen for having such an ugly face.

  Yeah, that fight required a shit-ton of stitches.

  “Play your hand or forever hold your peace.” I survey my cards, knowing exactly what I’m going to do. There’s no way I’m gonna lose this hand.

  “Draw two, bitch.” Dane throws his card down, brown eyes flashing with triumph.

  Hanson grumbles as he picks up his cards, then Leo puts down a color change card.

  I fan out my last three cards and plop down my yellow and red 6’s. “UNO, fuckers.”

  They all groan and I pick up the 20s from the middle of the table. “And that was last game, so you suckers need to let me sleep.”

  “Isn’t that your phone ringing?” Hanson picks up the clicker and turns down the speakers. I hear the faint tone of my cell and wonder who’s calling at almost 2am.

  Thought I started dodging that bullet when I got rid of my last fling. I grab up my phone from my nightstand and blink at the screen. One too many beers.

  “Brandon? What the fuck man, you skipped out on us tonight and now you’re harassing me?” I put the phone and speaker and the guys rib him as he laughs.

  “Yeah yeah okay, listen. Little afterparty at my place, the usual. You and the guys come through.”

  “My man, it’s damn near 2am.”

  “Yeah and you know we won’t have time for this shit soon, so get your asses over here and celebrate my birthday with me.”

  “Your birthday isn’t for another month.” Dane scoffs.

  “What can I say, I’m special.” We laugh, and I raise my brow at the guys, while they shrug and nod.

  “Alright man, we’re on our way.”

  Hanson calls for a car since we’ve all been drinking, and I grab a quick shower since the guys came to my place.

  I give a fleeting thought to Kaija when I’m washing, but I guess she�
��s gonna be my one that got away.

  “You sound like an only child.” I tease the brunette in front of me, and she laughs low, looking up at me through long lashes.

  “You can tell so easily?” She walks a little closer, putting herself right between my legs and leaning slightly on one thigh.

  “Just a little bit.” I brush a piece of hair away from her shoulder, getting closer.

  There’s no doubt about what we both want.

  “Harlan Reed.” A woman in a tight fitting blue dress leans against the bar next to me and smiles.

  “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

  “Nope.” She takes her drink from one of the bartenders (because of course Brandon can’t be bothered to mix other peoples drinks or let anyone have free reign of his alcohol).

  “Do you want to get out of here? I drove.” The brunette puts a hand high on my thigh, and I try to remember if she said her name was Jess or Tess. The music was louder then.

  “Actually, he’s spoken for sweetheart, but that guy over there,” The woman points out Dane, “is single and looking.”

  Tess maybe Jess opens her mouth, but the lady steps closer menacingly and puts a possessive hand on my shoulder. “Run along.”

  I guess Tess maybe Jess doesn’t like her odds, and she walks away without a second glance.

  “Call me Mickey.” Blue dress pats my shoulder, friendlier now, and stirs her drink with the small straw.

  “Why the hell did you do that?” I scowl, thumping my beer down on the wood.

  “No need to settle for second best.”

  “And who’s first? You?” She’s attractive, but seems just a little too mercenary for me.

  “I’m spoken for. For the moment.” She laughs, winking. “My sister on the other hand…”

  “You did all that to set me up with your sister?” This woman is off her rocker.

  “Well apparently, you two already know each other pretty well.”

  I shake my head, standing. “I’ll leave you to your word games.”

  I walk away, and she doesn’t stop me. Tess maybe Jess is chatting up Dane, who she’s going to have zero luck with, and I don’t really feel like talking to anyone else now.