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“Last time we had dinner with you, you said you were just friends.”
I nod, feeling my lips quirk. “That was true.”
“And now?”
My smile is no longer containable. “Now we’re dating.”
She doesn’t respond and when I glance in her direction, she’s already staring at me, her whole face lit up like I just gave her the best news of her life. “Anna.”
“What?” I ask, still beaming.
“That’s a huge deal! What the hell, when did that start? God, tell me everything!”
I tuck my hands between my knees, leaning forward to crane my neck down the ice where Rhys is fighting to defend the puck near their goal. My excitement soars as I watch my brother do what he does best. He passes it up the ice to one of the wingers and I sit back now that it’s no longer in close jeopardy.
“I really like him,” I say, picking up the conversation with Micky again.
She watches me closer than she does Rhys, I can feel it on the side of my face. Not judgmental, just curious and elated for me. “Is it serious?”
I press my lips together and give a subtle nod. My eyes meet hers. “I really like him, Micky.”
“Yeah?”
“I think I might be falling for him. We’ve been friends for a few months, going on dates, but now it’s getting serious. Do you think it’s too soon?”
She shakes her head. “Does he treat you well?”
I nod, grinning like an idiot. “He’s so cool.”
“And he knows about your sobriety, and is respectful of that?”
“Very much so.” He knows more than I’ve told you or my brother. I let out a small breath. “He treats me like I’m . . . I don’t know. Like I’m magical. Even after telling him about my past and my addiction, he didn’t look at me any different. He takes me exactly as I am.”
“Of course, he does, Anna. You’re wonderful.”
Her words create a ball of emotion in my throat. I swallow it down. “Don’t make me cry, I’m wearing the good mascara tonight,” I say. I gingerly swipe over my cheeks and she chuckles, helping to ensure my makeup is still in place.
“When are you planning on telling Rhys?” she asks, sweeping a strand of hair away from my face, in an almost maternal way.
“I’d like to tell him tonight. I was hoping seeing him in the stands first will ease him into it.”
“He already likes Casper, you know.”
I nod. “He likes Casper as his tattoo artist. He doesn’t really know Casper as his little sister’s boyfriend. You know how Rhys can be, you saw how he was after I told him that Casper and I texted daily.”
She sighs. “True. I can work on that, though.”
“That would be hugely helpful,” I say with relief. “Thank you. Also . . . I was thinking of inviting him to Thanksgiving. So if you can maybe ease him into that . . . I’d be forever grateful.”
Micky can get Rhys to do anything. However, I want my brother to have enough faith in me to accept him without Micky’s intervention—to trust that I know who is good for me, and approve of Casper.
My ears feel warm, and sure enough, a tall man in my peripheral steps down to the front row, and I’m beaming before I even glance up.
I’m really glad he came.
There’s a sensation of wholeness when he shows up while I’m spending time with my family. Two things important to me, overlapping in a beautiful way.
He looks slightly out of place with his dark clothes, sleeves pushed up, and tattoos covering every exposed bit of skin starting below his ears, disappearing under his shirt, and coming out of his sleeves, spreading to his fingertips. His six-seven hot-as-hell appearance also catches a few glances.
