Stevie turns back to me, standing under the net. “His mother was waiting for him,” she laughs. “How fucking adorable is that?”
“Adorable,” I deadpan, clapping my hands together and asking for the basketball that’s resting on her hip.
“How many do you have left?” She passes the ball, perfectly nailing it in my shooter’s pocket.
After twenty-seven years together and her rebounding for me more times than I could count, my twin sister has it down.
Sinking another shot, I tell her, “Twenty-two.”
She passes it back.
“What’s up? Tired of Zanders already? You ready to move back in?”
“Ha-ha,” my sister says dryly. “Not a chance. I’m obsessed with that guy.”
My lips quirk in a proud smile. Evan Zanders, who I thought was going to be an absolute piece of shit, has turned out to be anything but. He plays professional hockey for Chicago, and my sister met him last year when she was a flight attendant on their team’s plane. Their relationship was under wraps until early this summer, and the past four months have been a nonstop public love fest between the two of them.
Stevie moved in with him, which is thankfully just across the street from my place, and as much as I like to be right, when it comes to Zanders, I’m happy I was completely wrong about the guy. He lights my sister up like I’ve never seen before, allowing her to own who she is with confidence. Hard to hate the guy when he’s the best thing to happen to your favorite person.
And I’m not going to lie, he’s become a good friend of mine as well.
“Well, I’d say he’s equally obsessed with you, if not more so.”
My sister rests the ball on her hip. “I know. Isn’t it great?”
Lightly laughing, I shake my head and clap my hands together, needing the ball back.
There’s no denying I’m a different guy around my sister. I’m the man I was before the fame and fortune. Money has never gone to my head in the way you’d expect it to for a young first-round draft pick, but it has made me more wary and paranoid than most people realize. Stevie is the only person I unequivocally trust with my life and having that freedom, not watching my every turn, allows me a moment to relax. To be myself.
“So, what’s up?” The ball slips through the net with another made shot. “What’s so urgent you had to come down here and rebound for me?”
Stevie doesn’t pass the ball back. Instead, she holds it in front of her with her arms across her chest. “I have a favor to ask.”
I hold my hands out for her pass, but she refuses.
“What is it?”
“Well, you remember how I moved out?”
“Yes, Vee. I’m pretty sure I remember I live alone now.”
“In your huge, beautiful, empty-when-you’re-on-the-road apartment.” Her eyes sparkle.
“And?”
“You know my friend, Indy, right? My old coworker.”
“The chick who showed up at our apartment and sobbed all night, then puked on my shoes in a bar the only other time I met her? Hard to forget.”
“Because she caught her long-term boyfriend with someone else,” she reminds me. “You see, her parents moved to Florida—”
“No.”
“Ryan,” Stevie protests. “I haven’t asked anything yet.”
“I know. And I’m stopping you before you do. You know I’m terrible at saying no to you, so I’m not going to let you even ask the question. She’s not moving in with me.”
“Ry, she has nowhere to go. She got promoted at work, and she’s going to have to give it up if she can’t find a place to live in the city. You know how little we make.”
“You make enough to pay for a place to live.”
“She’s…” My sister hesitates. “She’s going through some financial stuff and can’t afford to live alone here. Chicago is expensive.”
“Then she can find a friend to mooch off. I don’t even know her other than she got cheated on and can’t hold her liquor.”
“Ryan, don’t be like that. You have a huge apartment and you’re on the road for work half the time. Indy travels for work as much as you do. Hockey is the same season as basketball. You’ll barely see each other.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it was one thing when you lived with me. You’re my sister and my best friend, but I don’t want a roommate. You know how sacred my time at home is. End of discussion.” I clap my hands together, needing to get the ball back from my twin so I can finish my daily shots.
Instead, Stevie’s shoulders drop in disappointment before she turns on her heel and heads to the exit, taking my basketball with her.
“Vee, what the hell? I need to finish shooting.”
“You can rebound for yourself then.” She continues towards the exit, not bothering to turn around.
“You can’t be mad at me for saying no.”
“Not mad. Just disappointed. Would it kill you to care about someone or something other than this orange ball?”
“I care about you,” I remind her, but she charges through the double doors leading towards the hallway, dropping the basketball in the corner before she goes.
Fuck.
I try not to give a shit if I disappoint people. Their standards are never as high as the ones I hold for myself. However, my twin sister? Her opinion is the only one I care about besides my own.
I jog after her.
“Vee,” I call out as I open the doors to the hallway. She’s almost to the exit but turns on her heel to face me. “Tell me why I have to do this. Are you really that upset? Why does this matter so much to you?”
“You don’t have to do anything, but she’s my friend. She was my first friend in this city. You know how hard it’s been for me to make friends that weren’t just looking for a way to get closer to you. Well, Indy has been that friend, and if she can’t find a place she can afford, then she’s going to move to Florida so she can stay with her parents. I don’t want her to leave Chicago, and I don’t know how else to help her. The guy she was planning to marry cheated on her and she was the one who had to move out. She needs a win.”
Why does my sister have to pull at my goddamn heartstrings all the time? Someone else could give me this same exact speech and I wouldn’t blink an eye, but with Stevie saying it, my resolve is crumbling, wanting to give her anything she asks for. I’m the reason my sister has had a hard time making real friends, and now she’s giving me an opportunity to make it up to her, even just a little bit.
“I trust her,” she continues. “You can too.”
I care about Stevie’s happiness far more than my own. In fact, I’ve given up on that idea for myself, which causes the next thing to slip out of my mouth.
“To make it clear, I don’t want to do this.”
“I know.”
“There needs to be a move-out date.”
Stevie’s lip twitches as her eyes begin to sparkle.
“I want some sort of makeshift leasing agreement, and she’s paying rent. This is not a free ride.”
“Of course, she will. But could you make it affordable? It’s not like you need the money.”