When had that happened?

So, he brought a couple women home every now and then. That didn’t mean he’d lost all sense of moral righteousness. He broke his man code and slept with his best friend’s sister. He knew it was wrong.

He hadn’t pursued her in some preplanned, heartless scheme like Drew was suggesting, though. Leila had shown up at his door commando, for crying out loud.

Commando.

He was a man, not a saint.

“Fine,” he said slowly, his hand shaking as he set the spatula down, and took off the apron. “You make her feel-better eggs, since obviously I am incapable of doing something nice without it ending in an invitation to my bedroom.”

Drew shoved the apron back at him. “Henrik, I was just making a point.”

“That I am an untrustworthy bastard. Message received.”

“That’s not what I meant. She just doesn’t need another complication in her life right now.”

He knew Drew read the volatile look on his face, because he winced and immediately started backtracking. “Okay, I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

He held up his hands in surrender and threw the apron on the counter. “Don’t worry, this complication is going home.”

“Henrik—”

“No, you had your say.” He grabbed his sweatshirt off the table and headed for the door. He couldn’t help but think about Leila, standing there with that look of desperation and fury on her face that would forever be cemented in his memory. Then he remembered the panties. The panties she left just for him. So he wouldn’t forget.

Drew had it all wrong. Leila wasn’t a mess because of Derek. She wasn’t some heartbroken and vulnerable damsel in distress. She knew exactly what she wanted when she showed up that night. She’d always been that way. Strong. Independent. Something was definitely going on with her, and she needed their help, but keeping him away from her wasn’t what she wanted right now. He had her panties in his room to prove it.

He paused in the doorway, turning around to look back at his brother. “You know, maybe you should ask Leila what she needs instead of just assuming it for her. I heard assuming everything is what shitty brothers do.”

Drew ran a tired hand through his hair. “I never said you were a shitty brother.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He slammed the door as he left, angrier with himself than with Drew. It was his own fault his brother and everyone else thought those things about him.

He abandoned his mother, smothered Drew, and betrayed Austin.

All he had left was Leila. He had to get it right with her.

Only, he had no idea how to do that.

Chapter 6

 

 

LEILA’S THANK YOU

The Midtown skyline was breathtaking, or maybe it was the cool November chill in the air that made it hard for Leila to breathe. She’d crashed at Drew’s apartment for the past two days, confused about how to even begin living her life again. She’d shoved her black bag into the bottom drawer of the night stand in Drew’s guest room, determined to do the same with the memories that filled it. She could avoid reality for a while.

Reality was overrated, except when Henrik Rylander was involved. Then, fantasies had a lot to live up to all of a sudden.

She pulled the oversized shirt she’d stolen from Drew tighter around her shoulders as she pushed her billowing hair away from her eyes. The wind in the city was treacherous, and it instantly caused that familiar homesick pain in her stomach. The wind in Minnesota had a mean bite too. It had been almost a year since she’d been back to St. Paul to see her parents, not because she didn’t miss them, but because Derek would never take the time to go with her, not even in his off-season.

She would go back. Just not yet.

She refused to show up at their house an emotional wreck. They didn’t deserve to have that kind of burden placed on their shoulders. She had to get her life back together.

Find a job. Get an apartment. Be free.

When she finally made it back home, she wanted to do it on her own two feet and prove she didn’t need help.

She almost laughed at the thought as Drew’s shirt fell off her shoulder again. She had to get out of the apartment and at least go buy herself some new clothes. Showing up at Derek’s to retrieve hers was out of the question. She could do that much, she assured herself. Shopping was supposed to be fun.

Then why did such a simple task sound so daunting?

She stood at the corner, waiting for the crosswalk signal. The city bustled and chirped with horns and sirens. Everyone had somewhere to be, and they were in a hurry to get there. When the signal turned, she didn’t move. Instead, she stood there, allowing the cold to bite her cheeks so she could pretend she felt something again. She reached up and touched her nose.

Numb. Just like the rest of her.

A gust of wind blew, bringing her attention and dulling willpower back to the signal. The seconds ticked down, and she only had ten left to decide if she wanted to turn around and go back. She might have done just that if it hadn’t been for the scene she’d walked in on in the kitchen that morning. She could smell the scorched eggs all the way down the hall, and she knew Drew could barely make cereal, let alone attempt an actual meal, so she’d been concerned. Drew dumped the black eggs in the garbage when she walked in, the smoke from the skillet thick in the air. She was surprised by the explanation he gave her.

Henrik made her eggs. Feel-better eggs, no less.

Just as the last seconds ticked away on the signal, she darted across the street, eliciting a few honks from impatient motorists. If it hadn’t been for those eggs, she might have turned around. She needed to talk to Henrik, though, and since he’d apparently left the apartment in a huff, she knew exactly where she’d find him.

The team’s morning skate ended two hours ago, and the gym he and Austin liked to frequent on their off days was a half block down the street. It was common knowledge that the best way for an athlete to work out his issues was with a little hard-earned sweat.

She was disappointed to find he had already been to the gym and gone. The girl at the front desk said she’d missed him by twenty minutes. She found herself on the sidewalk again, looking around, wondering where an upset hockey player might go after a workout, and that was when her eyes fell on the bar across the street.

There was only one other logical step in his routine. After listening to Austin complain about the new training diet they were trying out the previous day, it only made sense that Henrik would do what came naturally to him.

Rebel.

She crossed the street and entered the bar, only to find it empty. She walked up to the bartender, his graying hair thick and polished as he busied himself assembling silverware sets at the counter. “Are you a Rangers fan?” she inquired.

The bartender looked up, his interest piqued. “Do I look like an idiot? I run a bar in New York. Of course I’m a Rangers fan.”

“Good. Then you can tell me if you’ve seen one today.”

The man studied her for a moment, and then smiled. “Any particular reason why a pretty thing like you is looking for one?”

She shot him her most charming smile. “He made me feel-better eggs this morning, and I just wanted to tell him thank you.”

The old man laughed and pointed to the partition that separated the bar from the restaurant in the back. “He’s in his usual spot. Back table to the left.”

“Thanks.” She smiled and made her way through the bar into the restaurant. She found Henrik, leaned back in a chair, his feet stretched out in the seat across from him. He absently watched the TV on the wall and circled his fork in the empty plate of something she was positive wasn’t on his new training diet. He still wore his workout clothes, a Rangers hoodie and a black pair of sweatpants.