“I’m really sorry my choices affected you like that. And it killed me when you wouldn’t talk to me back then.”

“I was so mad at you for being a super-dirty man-whore. I looked up to you my entire life, and then you became someone I didn’t know.”

“It cost me a lot, Stevie. Not just my relationship with you and Mom.”

“I know, and I don’t want to keep dredging up that past and making us wallow in it. I’m just telling you how it impacted me.”

“Well, I think we’re even, now that there’s a video of you making out with one of my teammates.”

I cock a brow. “Not quite the same as a threesome in a hot tub, RJ, and you know it.”

He makes a face. “Let’s never bring up either of those things ever again.”

“Deal.”

We’re both silent for a while before RJ speaks again. “I think when we tried to fix things between us, maybe we swung too far in the opposite direction, especially after Dad passed.”

“I can see that. I just want RJ my brother, not this weird dad-bro hybrid. I love that you have my back, even when I make stupid mistakes, but more than anything I want to feel like we’re equals, not like I’m the kid sister you need to take care of.”

“I can’t promise I won’t be protective, because that’s just me, and if Bishop screws you over, I’ll beat his ass, but I’m going to do my best to just be your brother.”

“You can’t beat his ass.”

“I actually have his permission.”

“Why would he give you permission to do something like that?”

RJ gives me his “come off it” look. “Because he has it bad for you.”

“You really think so?”

“I don’t think, I know. And can we address the fact that you hooked up with the one guy on my team I hate?”

“It’s not a hookup, and you let me move in across the hall from him, so you have no one to blame but yourself.”

“I knew I should’ve moved you into the pool house when I had the chance.”

“Hindsight is such a bitch, isn’t it?” I consider my lack of foresight with Bishop. “The whole team is back?”

“Yeah. Bishop couldn’t get off the plane fast enough.”

“So he’s probably home now?”

“There’s a good chance. You want me to drop you off at the condo?” RJ offers.

I don’t want to make Bishop wait any longer than I already have. “I think home would be a good place for me to go.”

He turns the car around, and I send a message to Pattie and Jules that I’ll have to take a rain check on brunch. It’s time to stop burying my head in the sand.

I send Bishop the message I should have days ago.

CHAPTER 27

UNDERWEAR DECLARATIONS

Bishop

Things I should have done before leaving for a series of away games:

rescheduled my cleaner to come the day before I get home;

done my laundry (or had my cleaner do it);

changed my goddamn bedsheets;

ordered a bunch of shit to prove to Stevie that I’m it for her and she’s it for me, and fuck everyone else and what they think;

shaved my balls.

Things I did before I left for the series of away games: none of the above.

So as much as I want to knock on Stevie’s door and force her to deal with me the second I arrive on the penthouse floor, I have a bunch of shit to take care of.

Nolan is sitting on the couch, watching TV and eating carrots and some kind of dip.

I take in the pigsty that is my apartment. “Nice of you to pick up after yourself while I was gone.”

“I’m taking it you still haven’t talked to Stevie,” he says through a mouthful of chewed-up vegetables.

“Not yet.” I pause and pick up the can sitting on the coffee table, ready to give my brother hell because it’s barely noon and he’s drinking, until I read the label. “Since when do you drink nonalcoholic beer?”

“Uh, since the past week, I guess.” Nolan runs his hands over his thighs, almost like he’s nervous.

“Did something happen while I was away?” Nolan drinks light beer most of the time, and he always balks at me when I get him a six-pack of the fake-out stuff, since he’s really not supposed to drink at all.

“I had an incident a while back.” He chews on a nail.

“What kind of incident?”

“I misplaced my insulin, and Stevie helped me out.”

“What? When the fuck did that happen?” And why the hell didn’t Stevie say anything to me?

“It was during your last away series, before the viral video. I asked her not to say anything because I didn’t want you to worry more than you already do. She took me to urgent care, and we had a talk about me taking better care of myself.”

I motion between us. “You and I have that fucking talk all the damn time.”

He shrugs. “I know. I guess I just never really realized how hard it was on you. Or how selfish I was being until she pointed it out. So I figured it would be a good idea to take better care of myself so I can keep being a pain in your ass for as long as possible.”

I get a tight feeling in my throat. “Right. Okay. Well, that’s good. I’m glad.”

“Yeah.” He nods like a bobblehead.

“I’m always going to be here to make sure you’re taken care of,” I say, because it’s true. “But it sure would be great if you valued your life as much as I do.”

He clears his throat. “I know. I get that. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t live your life because you’re afraid of the way I’m living mine. I realize the best way to make it easier is for me to take my diabetes seriously so you don’t have to worry as much.”

I blink a bunch of times and rub the back of my neck. “That’s really good to hear, Nolan.”

“I figure you’d need me to be around for dating advice eventually.” He grins.

I roll my eyes. “I already told you. I don’t need dating advice.”

“Oh really? Does that mean you’ve fixed things with Stevie?”

“Not yet. I’m about to, though, right after I clean this mess up.” I motion to myself and head for the hall, pausing to squeeze his shoulder as I pass. It’s as sentimental as I’m willing to get with him.

“I love you too, bro!” he calls after me.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, but I smile as I drop my duffel on my bed. At least I have one less thing to be concerned about.

The cleanliness of my apartment is not my first priority, since we can talk at Stevie’s place, but the personal grooming and gift buying need to happen before the door knocking.

I shower, shave all the important parts, and head back out to buy nice things for the woman I want as my girlfriend, hoping that by the end of the day that’s exactly what she’ll be. I buy two hundred dollars’ worth of chocolate and an equally expensive bouquet of flowers. I’d stop and grab a pizza, because it’s kind of our thing, but I’d prefer not to have olive-pineapple breath in case we make out later. Also, my hands are already pretty full.