Chapter 29

Twenty-Nine

Rowan

There's no way.

"You're Conor's sister?" I look at Leigh, but she doesn't say anything. She's fiddling with the sleeves of my sweatshirt, tugging them over her hands and shifting her feet. "Leigh?"

"Why do you keep calling her Leigh?" Conor asks. "Is that some cute fucking nickname you have for her? She hates being called that."

I turn from Conor and back to her. "Your name isn't Leigh?"

I step back, and finally her guilty gaze drifts up to mine. Wetness coats her beautiful caramel eyes. The pain I see there shouldn't cut me, especially right now when I'm the one who was made to look like a fool.

"It's Kyleigh. I?—"

"Ky, what the fuck? I don't understand," Conor says. "Why are you with him?"

"Excuse me," I say, stepping up to him. "Is there something wrong with me?"

He puts his hand up in my face as if this isn't my business, but between him and his sister. "Um, yeah. The fact that you're using her for sex."

I balk. "You have no fucking clue what you're talking about."

"Hey, guys." Henry dips his head into our little trio. "I have a kid over here. Can we cool it with the f-word?"

I groan in frustration. "Why did you lie?" I want to ask her a million more questions, but I'm trying to stay calm because people are starting to come out of their apartments.

"At first…I didn't…he was in Florida." She points at Conor.

"That's not an excuse." My arms fly up at my sides.

"Did you know who he was when you met him?" Conor asks, interrupting my line of questioning.

"Hey, you'll get your turn. Right now, I get to ask the questions."

"Like hell." Conor steps in front of me.

I'm not usually a physical guy outside of the rink, but I fucking cared about this woman. And she's been lying to me this entire time.

"You know what?" I put up my hands and step back. "Have at it. I'm done."

"Wait!" Leigh or Kyleigh or whatever fuck her name is steps forward, but Conor blocks her from getting to me.

"He's not worth it. This is exactly why I made you promise to never get with one of my friends or teammates. They're all looking for nothing more than a quick fuck."

"Hello!" Henry shouts.

"Guys, we're causing a scene, and phones are starting to come out." Tweetie lowers his head into our widespread huddle.

"She wasn't that," I say because I'm an idiot who can't stop himself. "I mean…" Oh fuck it. I can't right now.

All this time I thought she wanted to tell me something, I never thought it was that she was Conor Nilsen's sister and that she'd been lying to me since the moment we met. Fuck, it hurts.

"So, here's the deal." A fireman who seems to be the chief comes over to us. When he takes off his gloves, his silver wedding ring shines under the streetlights. His name tag reads Bianco. He looks strong, and with the way he's built, I bet he models for those firefighter calendars or is auctioned off every year for some fundraiser. He takes in Tweetie, then looks at Conor, me, and Henry last. "Falcons?"

"Yeah," Henry says.

He rocks back and glances at the security gate. "You all live upstairs?"

"We do," Tweetie says, crossing his arms.

"Well, the fire is out. We're pretty sure it was electrical, but the water damage is extensive on the ground level. The sprinkler system was working, so it minimized any fire or smoke damage from extending beyond the bar. We called the owner and told them it's boarded up for the night, but that they can get back inside in a few days. You're all free to go up to your places."

"Thank you, firefighter," Bodhi says, staring up at the man as if he's a hero.

Chief Bianco squats and glances over at another firefighter, gesturing for something. "What's your name?"

"Bodhi," he says. "Is it fun to be a fireman?"

The tension dissipates from watching Bodhi be so amazed.

"It's a lot of fun, but a lot of hard work. Do you want to be a fireman one day?" Chief Bianco asks.

"Maybe." He looks at Henry behind him. "Or a hockey player."

Chief Bianco laughs, and the other firefighter comes over and hands him a plastic firefighter hat. Chief Bianco puts it on Bodhi's head. "Here you go. You can be Firefighter Bodhi for as long as you want."

Bodhi's mouth falls open, and he turns back to Henry. "Dad! Look!"

"Say thank you," Henry says, nodding toward the chief.

Bodhi whips back around. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." The chief chuckles. "I know this was an inconvenience, but it could've been a lot worse."

He nods then walks away, heading over to an EMT standing by the ambulance and talking with a police officer. It's late and maybe I'm just tired, but I swear they all resemble one another.

"Come on, Fireman Bodhi, your bed is missing you." Henry takes Bodhi's hand and heads toward the building.

Tweetie stands idle between us, but surprisingly says nothing and follows after Henry and Bodhi.

"I'm taking you home," Conor says to his sister. I have no idea what to call her at this point.

"I'm not a child." She ignores him and walks over to me. "Can we talk?"

I blow out a breath and glance over to see people with their phones out. "Let's just go upstairs."

I step back and hold my arm out for her to go first. She walks by me. Conor tries to cut in front of me, but I slide in right behind her.

The three of us walk up the stairs and enter my condo. I wait for her to walk in, but I should've known Conor would follow. I'm not even sure I want to be alone with her right now. I'm upset and hurt, but anger simmers just below the surface from the embarrassment she's caused.

She turns around and faces her brother. "Conor, can you please just go?"

He crosses his arms and widens his stance as though he's waiting for a fight or trying to intimidate me. "I'm taking you home."

She picks up her clothes from the floor and goes into the bathroom. "You're not."

The door to the bathroom closes, which leaves me alone with Conor.

Not wanting this to leak into the locker room, I figure it's better to handle this with him now. "I didn't know she was your sister, got it?"

"Now you do. So, I guess the question is, what're you gonna do about it?"

I've never seen this side of Conor before. Sure, maybe directed at someone else. He had a pretty big rift in college with this Trent guy who played for our biggest rival. Maybe at a bar once or twice when words would get thrown around in a drunken brawl, but he's usually pretty calm and level-headed.

As for what I'm going to do, I have no damn clue. As mad as I am at her, I'm still gut-punched seeing the aftermath of her secret coming out. I want an explanation, but at the same time, I don't care what she has to say. She lied. My head is everywhere and nowhere, and I need to step away from the situation and sort out my feelings before I can sit down and talk this out with her.

"Just let her go, man," he whispers, and I wonder if he sees it in my face that I don't know what to do. "She's in the worst time of her life right now. She's confused and not acting like herself. She's using you to escape her reality. I mean, she's talking about buying a bar for fuck's sake."

It's like he took out a dagger and sliced me, quick and clean right down the center of my chest. Maybe I don't know the real Leigh, or Kyleigh. He would know, wouldn't he? God, that word. Use. It guts me.

The bathroom door flies open before I can ask him any questions about what he just said. Kyleigh's dressed in her shorts and T-shirt, and my stomach sinks as she hands me my T-shirt and hoodie all folded up.

"I'd like to explain," she says.

My jaw clenches. I'm not ready to have this conversation with her yet. "I think you should go home."

The wetness that filled her eyes overflows, and a tear cascades down her cheek, then another one. "But?—"

"Let Conor take you. I need time to think this over. It's a lot."

She reaches out, and I step back, her arm dropping to her side. Her mouth falls open, and the pain etched in her features unfurls something inside me that I can't navigate at this moment.

"Okay." She walks to the door, and Conor opens it, waiting for her to leave first. I don't even bother watching her go. I don't want to bear witness to it if it's the last time she'll ever leave my apartment. "I'm sorry, Rowan. I really am. I think I just got caught up in…us."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

The door shuts with a click that echoes throughout my empty place. I bring the clothes in my hand up to my nose, smelling our scents mixed together.

Fuck that.

I dump them in my hamper and sit on the edge of my bed for a second before I stand by my window and watch her get in an Uber, then I bolt out of the apartment. I can't stand to be haunted by her memory in my space.