Page 4 of Say Yes to the Nemesis

We’re both grinning now, falling back into the easy rhythm that’s carried us through college. Through the NHL draft, my hockey career, and Jay’s Instagram influencer business blowing up. This is what I’m going to miss most about the next two months. This kind of normal. No scripts, no cameras, no producers asking me to dig deeper into my feelings for the sake of good television.

I have the impression that asking “What feelings?” will not exactly get me a gold star from the producers.

A familiar voice cuts through my thoughts like a white-hot knife through butter. “Are you talking about me?”

I look up and there she is. Wren Rustin, in all her schlubby glory. Oversized cardigan that probably belongs to someone twice her size, jeans that could fit another person in there with her, and those thick-rimmed glasses that make her look like she’s cosplaying a librarian. But even buried under all that fabric, there’s no hiding the fact that she’s pretty. Flame-red hair that falls in waves around her face and those ridiculous green eyes that are currently narrowing at me with suspicion.

And fuck me, but I can’t help thinking about Lake Lanier. Our annual group trip where she shows up in some tiny bikini that makes it impossible to look anywhere else. Not that I shouldbe thinking about that. Not that I want to be thinking about that. But the brain wants what the brain wants, and apparently my brain wants to remember exactly what Wren Rustin looks like in a swimsuit.

It shouldn’t matter that she’s pretty. That she grew up and got sharp-tongued and sharp-eyed. That she hates me. But it does. And I hate that.

“Wren,” Jay says, sliding over to make room for her in the booth. “Perfect timing.”

“Is it?” She settles next to her brother, her eyes still fixed on me. “Because Ryan looks like he just swallowed something unpleasant.”

“That’s just my natural reaction to your presence,” I say. I have no defense other than that poking the dragon is apparently hardwired into my DNA.

Scratch that. I’m a giant teddy bear to everyone else. But with Wren, messing with her is just too much fun.

Her lips curve upward. “How sweet. You have all the charm of a pit viper.”

“And you’re still exactly as tall as I remember,” I shoot back. “What are you, five two? Five three on a good day?”

“Five four, thank you very much. And you’re still exactly as observant as ever. Really putting that college education to good use.”

“Cut it out.” Jay snorts. “You know, it’s weird. Wren’s shy around literally everyone except you.”

I’m not sure how to feel about that, so I volley back a joke.

“That’s because her hatred overcomes her natural personality defects,” I say.

“My natural personality defects?” Wren’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s rich coming from someone whose personality is basically ‘hockey stick with legs.’”

“At least I have a personality. You spend most of your time hiding behind books and computers.”

“I prefer the term ‘selectively social.’ Not all of us can survive on pure ego and protein powder.”

Jay looks between us like he’s watching a tennis match. “This is actually kind of entertaining.”

“Glad we can provide you with quality programming,” I say. Then I turn back to Wren. “So, your brother tells me you’re going to be working on my show.”

Something flickers across her face. “It’s not your show. You’re just the guy they’re paying to look pretty and say scripted things.”

“Right. Well, maybe the producers will give you the really important job of fetching my bagels and being my personal assistant. You know, something that matches your skill set.”

Her face goes pale, and for a second, I think I’ve actually crossed a line. “I’m going to try to stay as far away from you as possible, actually.”

“Good. That works for both of us.”

Jay motions to Wren to let him out. She gets up and he stands up, tossing a twenty on the table. Wren sits down across from me again, eyeing me with uncertainty. We’re not usually alone together. Is that what she is thinking?

I’m certainly not forcing her to be here. The door is right there.

Jay says, “Okay, children, I’m going to leave you two to your mutual destruction. Early morning tomorrow.” He looks at me seriously. “Take care of her, Ryan.”

Great. Just what I need. Jay’s little sister reporting back to her big brother every time I get within ten feet of a bikini. Or a cocktail. Or literally anything that could be construed as inappropriate behavior.

“I’m pretty sure she’ll tase me if I get out of line.”