Page 95 of Daring the Hockey Player

I haven't seen Charlotte except for lunch on campus between classes. She texts me daily, asking if there's any steamy news from my hockey boyfriend, and sends me snippets that she finds of him playing hockey online, clips from the game that he played the previous day.

I swear she stalks him more than I do—more than I did, anyway.

But I like seeing the videos of him playing, and when he's back in the city, I want to surprise him and show up at one of his games. And maybe this time, I'll actually wearhisjersey. Although, it is fun to rile him up.

The evening shift at the tea shop is busy, and I'm surprised when Emerson shows up, bringing Bristol with her.

"Is this the Mad Tea place?" Bristol asks with wide eyes. She untangles from my sister's hand and runs around the tea shop glancing at the walls and the Alice in Wonderland-themed décor. Most of it is out of reach except for the children's table that we have situated in the corner, with a mural of a tea party on the wall.

"Yes," Emerson says. "What flavor do you want?" She reads off the descriptions to Bristol as I wait for the two of them to put in an order. It's been busy all day, but the past hour has finally settled down.

I prepare Emerson and Bristol's drinks and can't help but wonder if there's another reason my sister decided to show up where I work. She's never been here before, at least not while I've been working behind the counter.

Emerson doesn't live near campus. It seems like she came out of her way to see me.

"Is that your sister?" Maggie asks. She's working the counter with me today since Samantha bailed on her shift again.

"It is, and her soon-to-be stepdaughter."

"That's sweet. You can take a break and visit with them for a few minutes. The place is quiet. I've got it."

"Thanks," I say, taking off my apron and stepping around to join Emerson and Bristol at a nearby table.

"What are you guys doing here?" I ask.

Bristol gobbles up her tea and chomps on the fruit bits in the drink that she ordered. She has a huge grin on her face. I swear she ordered the sweetest drink on the menu.

"There's a game Friday in town. I can get us seats together if you want to come and support the team."

"That sounds fun. I have work in the afternoon, but it's a night game, right?"

"Yeah, an evening game. You'll have to wear Greyson's jersey if you come."

I can't help but wonder if she heard about the two other incidents where I was wearing an Island Bruisers jersey. I don't bring it up or ask which Greyson I'm supposed to be representing.

"I think I can find one in his dresser."

"You go through your roommate's dresser?" Emerson asks, raising an eyebrow.

Bristol giggles, and I glance at the kid, unsure that she understands what Emerson is talking about.

"I may, at times, borrow a jersey or whatever," I say dismissively.

"Like the one you wore to the party last weekend?" Emerson asks.

Bristol sips her drinks and stares at Emerson with a smug smile. "You borrowed one of Daddy's jerseys."

"I did, and I regret every second," Emerson says.

Bristol is beaming proudly, like she concocted some wicked plan to get Emerson into trouble. I wouldn't put it past a six-year-old to scheme and my sister to fall for it.

"This sounds interesting," I say, waiting for Bristol to elaborate.

Emerson glares at her to keep her mouth shut, and I feel completely left out. "You can tell me later," I whisper to Bristol.

My sister snorts and rolls her eyes. "We're not doing that," Emerson snaps.

Bristol holds out her pinky like she's promising me that she'll tell me later, and we're good. Is that the new meaning of a pinky promise?