A Favor for a Favor

by Hunting, Helena

  “It’s raining and I forgot an umbrella; my clothes got soaked.” I want to jam my hands in my pockets, but I don’t have any. “Can we talk?”

  “I was hoping we could.”

  “Here? Or should we go to your place?” Since I didn’t read the note stuck to the door, I’m unsure if my brother is still home or not.

  “My place works.” Stevie takes a few backward steps toward her apartment, and I follow. It isn’t until we’re inside her place that I realize I probably should’ve put on pants, but I’m here now, and I don’t want to leave again.

  She reaches for a hoodie hanging from a hook at the front door. But I cover her hand with mine. “You don’t need to do that.”

  “So we’re going to have our relationship talk half-dressed?”

  “Seems like our best conversations take place like this, don’t you think?” Am I trying to lighten the mood? Definitely. Deflect? Also a yes.

  She doesn’t make another move to cover up, though, so maybe she agrees.

  “I’m sorry,” we say at the same time.

  At what is likely my confused expression, she adds, “It wasn’t fair of me to stay silent for an entire week.”

  “You needed time.” I give her words from last Sunday back to her. I generally deal with stuff as soon as it happens, but I get that girls are different, and it was a pretty messed-up situation. My not dealing with it wasn’t all that helpful either. “And I should’ve addressed the video or found a way to manage it, but I generally tend to ignore social media stuff, which probably wasn’t the smartest move in this case. At least that’s what everyone’s been telling me.” I really wish I had pockets to jam my thumbs in, but my lack of pants makes that impossible. “I’m not really used to everyone giving a shit about my personal life.”

  “Me either. Usually that’s my brother’s thing, not mine.”

  “But I should’ve done something instead of nothing. I just . . . I didn’t know what. And you wouldn’t talk to me. So going on record that I wanted you to be my girlfriend but that I wasn’t sure if you were still interested seemed pretty weak. Not that this is any better. I have flowers and chocolate for you, which, when I say it out loud, also sounds pretty damn weak too.” I run a hand through my hair. “Shit. Maybe I really do need some lessons in dating, like Nolan said. Maybe I should’ve put myself on the line more? I could’ve made a video or something declaring my feelings for you.” I wish I would’ve thought to do this sooner. It might’ve cleared shit up a lot faster.

  Stevie bites her lip and peeks up at me from under her lashes. “I don’t need you to combat a video with a video, Bishop.”

  “Okay. I won’t do that, then.” I’m kind of relieved about that. I hate interviews in general, and I have zero practice making declaration videos. “I wish we could do over the morning after, though, or even when I kissed you. It would’ve been better if that had been just ours.”

  “Me too. I mean, I wish I’d reacted differently the morning after too.” Stevie twists her fingers together. “I really haven’t been fair to you, Bishop.”

  “Uh, okay?” I fully expected that I would have to get down on my knees and grovel, or at least apologize several times in succession for not dealing with the video or pushing her to talk. Most of the time I’m not invested enough to do the groveling part. This time it’s different, though. “Can you expand on that?”

  “Come sit with me.” She links our fingers and leads me toward the couch. I settle into the corner, and she takes the cushion beside mine, keeping our fingers twined still. “I’ve spent the past decade hiding who my brother is, not taking into account how his fame affects anyone but me, and by doing that, I forced myself into a box, and all the people I care about along with me, including you.”

  “I get it, though, why you wouldn’t want to put yourself at risk like that. I mean, I have to deal with the press and social media, but I can pay someone to manage that stuff for me, where you can’t.”

  “I appreciate that you understand my position, but I don’t want you to make excuses for me.” She tips her head to the side. “I actually liked that you were one of my brother’s teammates. It meant I didn’t have to worry about you wanting to be around me for any other reason than I was helping you. And you hated each other, so for me that was another win, because you weren’t with me all the time because you wanted to get in with him. It had nothing to do with RJ at all, and I didn’t want to share that with anyone.”

  “But then I came to that event with you,” I supply.

  She nods. “I should’ve expected all the attention, but instead I buried my head in the sand like I always do. I fooled myself into believing it would be like every other night we were together, and that’s my fault. I shouldn’t have made you hide along with me. If I’d chilled out about it, then maybe the first thing on social media with the two of us wouldn’t have been a stupid viral video that everyone freaked out over, including me.”

  “If I’d made a move before that night, there might not be a viral video.” I feel like I need to take some of the blame for this.

  “You were trying to follow your coach’s orders.” Stevie smiles softly and sighs. “So I’m sorry for the way I reacted, for not being able to handle it, and for telling you I needed time to think and then not responding to your message right away, but I had a lot of emotional baggage to unpack.”

  “And now that you’ve unpacked it, how do you feel about everything?”

  “Like I wish I would’ve handled things differently in the first place.”

  “Sort of like how I wish I hadn’t been such an asshole when you first moved in.” I give her a half smile.

  “The boner-killer insult was pretty unforgettable.”

  “I was in a mood.” I lift our clasped hands and press my lips to her knuckle.

  “So rare for you.”

  “The boner-killer comment was bullshit anyway, and you know it.” I lean in closer, fingering a lock of pale-lavender hair. “This past week without you was awful. I hated it. I hated not talking to you, not having you up my ass about workouts, not seeing your face, even if it was on a stupid tiny screen.”

  “I hated all of those things too.”

  “I can deal with away games as long as I have you when I get back.”

  “To stretch you out?”

  I roll my eyes, which I realize is usually her reaction, not mine. “Can you ever not be pithy?”

  She cringes. “It might be my defense mechanism.”

  “Turn it off for a second, ’kay?”

  “Sorry.” She presses her lips together.

  “I want to be the olive to your pineapple.” I smooth my thumb along the edge of her jaw, and she tips her head back: an unconscious reaction, I’m sure, but it says everything words can’t. For so many reasons we probably shouldn’t fit together, but we do.

  She laughs. “I told you it would grow on you.”

  “I’ll never openly admit I like it, though.” I cup her face in my palms and dip down and brush my lips over hers. “My whole world is better with you in it, Stevie.”

  “Mine too.”

  “I want to take you on dates, in public places. I just want to be with you.”

  She exhales a shuddery breath and whispers, “I want the same.”

  “I don’t want to have to hide how I feel about you anymore.”

  “Me either.”

  I grab her by the waist and shift her so she’s straddling my lap. There are a million way more romantic ways I could do this, and I consider running across the hall to get the flowers and chocolate, but we’re here, and mostly naked, and I’m thinking this is a pretty convenient setup, so the flowers can wait.

  “I want to tell you something important.”

  “Okay.” She laces her fingers behind my neck.

  “I love you.”

  Her eyes are soft and a little watery. “I love you too, Shippy.”

  “I want to hate that nickname, but coming from you it’s not so bad.�
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  “It probably helps that I’m mostly undressed and sitting on top of your hard-on.”

  “Probably.”

  She presses her lips to mine, and we spend the next two hours showing each other how we feel with actions and not a whole lot of words—except some dirty ones.

  CHAPTER 28

  DISGUISE NOT NEEDED

  Stevie

  One week later

  “Please tell me you don’t go to all this trouble for every game.” I’m currently at a spa getting pampered. Spas and pampering have never been my thing. Having someone do my hair, makeup, and nails is excessively indulgent—but it might grow on me.

  “Depends on where we are in the season. For playoff games I go all out, but regular season no,” Violet says. An aesthetician is currently bent over her hand, affixing a jewel and a tiny Seattle team decal to her nail. I think that would drive me bonkers, but she seems to love it. “Back when Alex was on the ice, I used to get my beaver BeDazzled for special games.”

  “Your beaver?”

  She motions below the waist.

  “Seriously?” She’s not laughing, so I have to assume she either has a great deadpan or she really has BeDazzled her lady bits.

  “Oh yeah, and if you’re not too vigorous about the business, it’ll last a week or so. They do that here, if you’re interested.”

  She’s definitely serious. “Uh, I think I’ll pass.”

  Violet smiles and nods knowingly. “Probably smart since this is your coming-out party, and I’m assuming that boyfriend of yours is going to want to get down and dirty later. Save the beaver-dazzling for a time when he can really appreciate it.”

  I’ve decided I really like Violet, despite the fact that most conversations with her leave me blushing.

  After three hours at the spa, we head back to Lainey’s to get ready. I dyed my hair again last week: a pale aqua that gradually brightens at the tips. This will be my first official game as Bishop’s girlfriend, and to say he’s excited about it would be one hell of an understatement.

  I change into jeans and a hoodie with Bishop’s name and number on the back—I’m not giving up comfort just because my hair, nails, and makeup have been done. Lainey wears her jersey, but the back of hers reads MRS. BOWMAN, which is super cute.

  My brother has a driver named George who’s available for events like this, so once we’re all dressed and ready, we head to the arena. We don’t have to go through the same doors as everyone else, and there’s a box reserved for us, although if we want to sit in the prime seats, we can do that too. I decided I should rip the bandage right off, so we’re behind the bench, close to the ice.

  The urge to hide under my hood is strong, but we settle into our seats, other girlfriends and wives taking up the ones around us. I’ve met most of these women thanks to Violet’s “movie club.” In reality, it’s mostly an excuse to get together when the guys are away, eating snacks, drinking, and hanging out while we talk through movies, or pausing and rewinding scenes when the heroes are shirtless. So far the theme seems to be superhero movies. Regardless, it’s been fun.

  As I sit there absorbing the excitement of the fans and taking in this amazing group of women who support and love these men, I realize that I’ve missed out on a lot over the last few years. “I should’ve come to a game sooner.”

  Lainey squeezes my hand. “It’s okay that you weren’t ready until now. Sometimes we need to take baby steps. I only started sitting behind the bench at the end of last season, so the fact that you’re jumping right in with both feet is a good thing. And we can pretend for RJ’s sake that he’s the reason you’re really here.” She gives me a wink.

  The volume of the crowd rises to a frenzied pitch when Seattle takes the ice. I sit up straighter, clapping and whistling along with everyone else. Bishop skates across the rink, expression serious, which is pretty typical, until RJ elbows him in the side and nods in our direction.

  Bishop’s gaze follows his, and he scans the arena, and that serious expression turns into a huge grin when he finds me. I can feel my cheeks heat when he winks in my direction, but he doesn’t do anything to overtly draw attention my way.

  “Oh my God, look at how smitten that boy is. I am so glad I put bets on tonight’s game as your coming out,” Violet says to me, grinning widely.

  “Is that what the hair and nails and stuff was about?” I ask.

  “Just trying to be helpful. You know, I called it at the preseason party. I knew Winslow would have a girlfriend in our ranks before long, and here you are.” She seems all proud of herself, like she’s the reason we’re together.

  Lainey leans forward so she can address Violet. “Didn’t you want me to introduce Stevie to Kingston?”

  “Oh my God, seriously?” I snort-laugh. “As if.” Kingston is a really nice guy, but I’ve never met anyone so straightlaced in my entire life. He looks like he should go door to door and canvass people to join his new religion. “Besides, King’s had a girlfriend forever.”

  “That’s beside the point. I was trying to get a rise out of Bishop, and it worked: he and RJ got all snippy with each other, and I knew something was going on there.” Violet rubs her baby belly and smiles. “And I was right. Maybe I’m part psychic.”

  “Or maybe you already knew that Stevie and Bishop were neighbors, since you’re married to the team coach,” Lainey offers.

  “It’s more fun to pretend I have psychic powers.”

  Violet’s attention shifts to the right, and she waves enthusiastically, blowing a kiss in the direction of the bench.

  The team coach, her husband, sends a wink her way as the rest of the team shuffles down the bench. Once Bishop is seated, he turns and makes the “I heart you” gesture, which gets him a ribbing from the teammate next to him and an eye roll from my brother.

  My heart is all light and fluttery in my chest, at least until the game starts. I’d forgotten how exciting it can be to watch live hockey. It makes me miss my dad, and I have a moment of sadness over the fact that I’ve lost out on so many opportunities to see my brother play, mostly because of my own fears, which I’m beginning to see weren’t all that logical.

  The game is amazing, especially when Bishop scores a goal in the second period, giving them the lead, and RJ scores in the third. Seattle ends up winning the game 4–2. We wait for the crowds to clear before we leave the arena and head to the restaurant to celebrate with the team.

  Highlights from the game and interviews play out on TVs above the bar, but the sound is off. Bishop appears on the screen, his serious expression shifting to a smile when he answers one of their questions and winks at the screen. I’ll have to watch that later, when we’re home.

  We’re there for a good half hour before the team shows up, and despite the fact that the back room of the restaurant is reserved for them, there are a huge number of fans clamoring for their attention.

  Bishop doesn’t blatantly ignore the fans, but he’s obviously distracted as he scans the crowds, failing to smile for the pictures people keep snapping. He only grins when he spots me from across the room. Someone is in the middle of saying something to him, and he walks away.

  I shake my head, laughing as he bulldozes through people to get to me. When he reaches me, he wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me until my feet no longer touch the ground. “Did you hear me dedicate my first goal of the season to you, bae?” he mumbles in my ear, lips moving to my neck.

  “What?”

  He sets me back on my feet and runs his fingers through my hair. “When they were interviewing me, I told them my first goal belonged to you.”

  “You did not.”

  “I did.” His smile falters. “Is that okay?”

  I place a reassuring palm on his cheek and smile up at him. “Of course it’s okay, but I had nothing to do with that goal. It was all you.”

  “You being here helped. I want you at all my home games from now on. That’s totally reasonable, right?”

  “
I’ll see what I can do.” I tug on his tie. “Come here.”

  When our lips are an inch apart, he tugs my hood up.

  “You don’t need to do that. I don’t mind if people know I’m yours and you’re mine.”

  He grins. “Good to know, but I’m not planning to keep it PG, so I thought we could use a little cover.”

  He holds the edges of my hoodie and kisses me. I don’t care that people are watching or that they’re probably taking pictures. We only come up for air because of the catcalls and the shouts to get a room.

  “Stop manhandling my sister, Winslow!” RJ claps him on the shoulder.

  Bishop tucks me protectively against him. “I was saying hi to my girlfriend.”

  I push against his chest, and he releases me, his expression reflecting his worry. I put it there, along with my brother’s uncertainty, so I do the one thing I can think of to help ease their fear that this is all too much for me. “Lainey, can you take a picture of us?”

  “Of course.”

  I pass her my phone, and my brother shifts away, but I grab him by the sleeve. “I want one with both of my favorite hockey players.”

  He seems surprised at first, but then his face lights up, and I know that this has been a long time coming and that it’s exactly what we need to help bring us closer together, like we used to be.

  I push my hood back and run my fingers through my hair to smooth it out, then smile while Lainey snaps pictures of me first with RJ, then sandwiched between them, and finally just me and Bishop. And then I spend the rest of the evening enjoying time with the people I love the most, wondering why the heck it took me so long to realize that who I am doesn’t change at all, regardless of who I’m dating or who my brother is.

  EPILOGUE

  BAE, FOREVER

  Stevie

  Eight months later

  “Bishop? Are you almost ready to go?” I call out as I load food and some random gifts for Kody into a tote bin. His birthday was over two months ago, but I have a hard time not buying something cute if I see it. It’s my job as his aunt to spoil the hell out of him. Besides, Bishop was with me when we went party shopping, and the second I see something I like, he always tosses it in the cart. If I try to return it to the shelf, he threatens to make a scene.