Page 32 of Daring the Hockey Player

"You don't have to take care of me, Em."

"I do. You're not twenty-one yet. One glass of wine. I'm not about to corrupt my little sister."

I don't have to glance at Jasper because I can feel his gaze burning me. "So, how old are you, little sister?" Jasper quips.

I exhale a heavy breath. "Is the pie done? I can take it out of the oven for you." Anything to avoid this conversation about my age because I don't want my sister to find out about me drinking at Blue Line or, worse, that I have a fake ID.

Kyler joins me over at the oven. The timer hasn't gone off yet. It reads fifteen minutes, and it's counting down. "It still has more time," he says.

He leans back against the cabinets, folding his arms across his chest, an amused grin on his face. He lowers his voice while Jasper is still reeling about me being under twenty-one.

"I know you prank-called me last night," Kyler says. There's a smug look on his face, proud that he figured it out. "I just can't ascertain as to why." He glances from me to his younger brother, Jasper.

My voice falters as I speak. "I don't know what you're talking about." I don't sound sure in my response, and I feel even less confident as I glance at Jasper, hoping that he might save me from this conversation. Because it just went from bad to worse for me.

Anxiety creeps into my stomach, setting the butterflies free. My fingers tremble, and I shove them into the corners of my pockets like I'm relaxed, but I feel anything but calm.

"I'm not upset, just curious," Kyler says, perhaps sensing my hesitation.

Although, I'm confident that anyone glancing at me can read that I'm not comfortable with this conversation.

Jasper strolls across the kitchen and meets my stare. His brow pinches as he steps forward, and I hope that he's going to rescue me from this onslaught of questions and looming drama that I don't want to face.

"You're in college. Let me guess, twenty?"

I press my lips together. "That's right," I say.

There's a knowing smirk on his face, but he doesn't tattle on me to Emerson. "We'll have to take you out when you turn twenty-one and celebrate," Jasper says.

"Of course," Emerson chimes and stalks across the kitchen, throwing her arm around my shoulder. "You'll have to try different cocktails and figure out what you like. I'll even hold your hair back for you."

"I'll pass on the vomiting." I elbow her in the ribs. "Some sister you are, letting me drink to excess."

"I'm a great sister," Emerson quips. "I'm letting you have a glass of wine with dessert."

"An actual glass, or are you giving me a sip?" I know the way my sister works. She makes it sound like she's doing me this grand gesture, but she'll give me the equivalent of a tasting you might get at a winery.

"You're twenty. When you become an adult like the rest of us, you can drink as much as you want." Emerson hugs me before shuffling over to Kyler. He wraps an arm around her waist, and I roll my eyes, more at Emerson than the two of them.

I'm happy for them, but I'm annoyed at her.

Jasper clears his throat, his gaze on me. "I remember having to wait until I was twenty-one to drink."

"You're full of shit," Kyler says. "I remember getting a couple of prank calls from you while you were trashed at some seedy bar down the street from your place."

Jasper rests a hand on his chest. "I would never do that."

"Bullshit," Kyler mutters with a laugh.

"Boys," Emerson says, glancing between them. "No fighting in the house. You save that for the ice."

"We're not fighting, babe," Kyler says and drops a kiss on Emerson's lips. "I'm just telling my little brother how it is."

"Little?" Jasper raises an eyebrow at Kyler.

I swear there's about to be a fight, and while it sounds in good spirits, knowing that they're two hockey players, it could easily turn into something fierce.

"I think the pie is ready," I say, glancing at the clock. It's counting down the last minute, and Emerson grabs the plates and forks while Kyler pulls the dessert from the oven and lets it cool for a few minutes.